Spite Crush (Rock Hard #2)

Chapter Thirteen

~Kellen~

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I asked Naomi as I followed her up the back stairs to the suite level of the arena. “And to Zak.”

“I like when powerful people are indebted to me,” she teased. “Someday I’ll be single and forty and when I need viable sperm, one of you can pay me back.”

“Wow.” I chuckled as I shook my head. “It must be nice to have your whole life planned out in your head like that.”

“Honestly,” she said, motioning for me to follow her down an empty hallway before pushing open one of the doors and stepping inside. “Zak is my friend. Which makes you my friend. And friends help each other.”

I followed her into the suite, closing the door behind us before looking around. There was a television on one wall over a fully stocked bar, two sofas, a table and chairs and a wall of glass doors leading out into private seating over the arena.

“If you keep the lights off and stay inside, no one is going to know you’re here. It’s the owner’s suite so no one but staff has access, and I’ve made sure that no one will come in.” She reached out and rested a hand on my shoulder. “Does Zak know you’re here?”

“No. And I don’t want him to know,” I answered stiffly. I was still mad at him for ignoring my text messages. “I want him to focus on the game. ”

Naomi had told me what she and Zak talked about after I called her for help getting into the game unnoticed. And honestly, I was glad that he had someone to talk to about all of this.

How both of us had managed to choose a reporter to keep our secrets was a mystery that may never be solved. But she seemed like a good friend and if Zak trusted her then I figured I could trust her, too.

“Do you remember how to get back down to the player’s lot?” she asked, already heading back for the door. “Do you have a ride back to the resort?”

“Yeah,” I assured her. “I hired a car to wait down there for me. Thank you for getting me here.”

“Thanks for your sperm.” She gave me a wide grin and slipped out before I could respond.

Not that I even knew what to say to something like that.

I turned on the television and grabbed a beer before settling onto one of the sofas to watch the pregame commentary. I didn’t hate hockey as much I thought, but I still wasn’t interested enough to keep up with anything other than Zak. So I figured it might be good if I learned something about why tonight’s game was so important to the Inferno.

“With the Cobras snapping their win streak last week,” the man on television said, his smile so unnaturally white I wondered if they were capped or just full-on dentures. “Tonight’s game will clinch a playoff berth for one of these teams.”

“That’s right, Tom,” the other announcer continued. “This is a huge game for Inferno captain Zak Dempsey and his team. It would be the first playoff run in thirty years for the franchise.”

Even though I was still kind of pissed at Zak for ignoring me, I couldn’t help thinking again that he was kind of incredible. Here he was, on the verge of making the playoffs for his team, and he hadn’t been boastful about it at all. Hadn’t bragged or vented. He’d acted as if it were no big deal at all.

Then again, I didn’t even know what we were to each other. We weren’t exactly friends, certainly weren’t partners, weren’t even really dating. We just…got off together.

It wasn’t that I needed, or even necessarily wanted, a label. But it still felt as if we were something . And it was hard enough for my brain to function through clearly defined human roles. The ambiguity around me and Zak was frustrating.

Hell, I still didn’t know if I was going to tell him I was in town because I wasn’t sure if he even wanted me there. Though I was pretty sure he’d be glad. At least, he would be if they won. If they lost, he might be embarrassed that I’d made the trip just to watch them miss the playoffs by a single game.

The lights outside the box went out, replaced by flashing spotlights that danced across the ice as the Inferno players were announced, followed by the Cobras, who obviously got much louder cheers from their home fans.

I left the television on for the commentary, since from this height I couldn’t really see much of the action down on the ice. It might have been better if I moved to the box seats outside the windows, but I didn’t want to risk being seen, no matter how unlikely that would be.

By the end of the first period, the score was zero to zero and I was bored out of my mind. Zak had gotten two penalties and while I was sure he’d had some choice words to share, whatever he’d said on the ice had apparently been too vulgar for national television. Other than that, it had just been a group of guys skating back and forth.

I was pretty sure I was never going to be a fan of the game .

The second period remained zero to zero and I spent most of it playing a game on my phone. For a little while I actually considered leaving, but I’d flown all this way and if the Inferno managed to win, I didn’t want to miss it.

So, I forced myself to pay attention to the third period. Watching every single time the puck was stopped by each goalie. Watching every penalty play out. Watching the teams get more and more agitated, which lead to them getting more and more violent with each other. It seemed as if every other minute gloves and fists were flying out on the ice.

As the clock ticked down toward the end of the third period, I got a sinking feeling in my stomach that the game was about to go into overtime and I’d be forced to sit through even more of this.

But then, the voices of the announcers got really high pitched as they described Zak breaking free from the Cobra defenders and racing alone toward the goal .

I stood up and placed my face against the glass, watching the lone white jersey speed across the rink.

Zak slammed his stick forward, sending the puck across the ice where it slid over the goal line and bounced off the bottom back bar to score the game winning goal just as the buzzer sounded.

The disappointed roar of the Las Vegas crowd filled the stadium as the members of the Inferno crashed into Zak in a massive team hug.

The Inferno were going to the playoffs .

And Zak Dempsey had taken them there.

I couldn’t stop smiling as I slipped out of the suite toward the stairs, hoping to get out before the players started flooding their private lot toward whatever misery-drowning they had planned for the evening.

As my driver fought his way through traffic back toward the highway, I debated whether or not to let Zak know I was in town. He was going to be busy celebrating their victory with his team and I didn’t want to interfere with that .

But I also didn’t want to get on a plane and regret not seeing him while I was there. So I fired off a text and figured I’d let him decide where he wanted to spend his evening.

Kellen

Nice win, jackass.

If you get bored drinking with the team tonight, stop by and say hi.

Westin Resort Room 1124.