Ty and his group took the bench while the next went in. It was hard to sit the bench when he always wanted to be out there playing.
They were getting more shots on goal than Vancouver. They should be kicking their asses, but they’d been sluggish in the first period and Vancouver had pounced on them. Stupid. Now they were paying for it. They needed two more goals in or they were going to lose a game they needed to win. He looked at the clock—eight minutes left.
“Czenzcho is sluggish tonight,” he said to Eddie and Victor as they waited in the box for their turn. Tyler had read about Vancouver’s star defender recovering from a bout of the flu. He’d noticed it was slowing him down. “If we lean on him, double team him, we can get a shot past him and score these two goals.”
Eddie nodded.
“We will do that,” Victor said as if the goals they needed were already a foregone conclusion.
“Good. Pass it on and let’s get the job done.”
After Vancouver incurred a penalty for cross checking, they had the power play and now it was their chance to strike. Victor went after Czenzcho with a fury, Eddie right with him. Tyler circled back, crowding the goal, muscling in with the other defender, just waiting for the opportunity to slide the puck into the net.
Victor got the puck and shot it his way but it was deflected by the defender. Eddie was on it, slamming Czenzcho and scooping up the puck and taking the shot on goal. It was deflected by the goalie but the rebound hit air and dropped.
Ty was right there and sailed it into the net for the score.
They were tied, and the adrenaline hit a fever pitch.
Two minutes later, Eddie slid one in between the goalie’s legs on a two-man breakaway, and that was all she wrote.
Damn satisfying comeback. They’d worked their asses off for this win, and they’d really needed it. They’d lost three out of four on this road trip, and that just flat-out sucked. Tyler was drained and ready to get back on home ice again. Maybe it would help their mojo.
He hit the showers, shoving his head under the steaming hot water to tune out the sound of celebration from his teammates. Not that he didn’t want to take part—he would. Later. Right now he needed to be in his head, thinking about what the hell was wrong with his play the last few games.
He’d done everything right. Hell, they all had. But something wasn’t clicking. He just didn’t know what wasn’t working. Their shots on goal were above average, but they were being outscored and it pissed him off. He couldn’t blame the defense or their goalie, because they won or lost as a team.
He was going to have to study the game films to figure it out. In the meantime, he’d take tonight’s win as a turnaround, be damn glad they were grabbing a flight home, and that he had a couple days off to regroup before a stretch of home games.
He grabbed the soap and scrubbed down, his thoughts moving to Jenna.
He hadn’t seen her since the not-so-subtle brush-off she’d given him that night after they’d gone to the club.
Something about singing had bothered her. He didn’t know what kind of demons she wrestled with, but he knew about needing distance and time alone to think, so he hadn’t pressed it. But he’d missed her, which kind of surprised him. He enjoyed being with her, but he’d figured it was just a fun thing to do—that she was a fun thing to do to pass the time while he was hanging out at the bar.
She wasn’t like a lot of the women he usually dated. She was complex and interesting, and he wondered about her beyond the sex part of their relationship to what she thought and how she felt about things.
He turned off the shower and dragged his fingers through his hair.
Yeah, he couldn’t wait to get back home.
But this time, he was going to play a different kind of game.
“TWO MARGARITAS, ONE WITH EXTRA SALT. ONE BLOODY Mary, one Dewar’s neat, one dirty martini, and three Budweiser drafts.”
Jenna nodded and hustled to fill the waitress’s order, while at the same time sliding two bottles of beer across the bar to her regulars and cashing out a customer who was headed home.
It had been like this since happy hour started.
Work was hell. Hockey had been on every damn night, and the Ice had been traveling, which meant the televisions at the bar had been turned on to the games. She’d been forced to endure Ty’s face and body on multiple screens.
Even worse, she’d felt miserable when they’d dropped the first three games. Try as she might to ignore the games while she tended to her customers, their groans and curses made her look up and see just how badly the Ice had played. And because the media loved to focus in on despair, she’d seen close-up shots of Tyler’s dejected face—along with the other players.
By the end of game three, the frustration and anger had shown on his face, and her stomach had been in knots. She wished it had been a home game so he and the other guys could have come to the bar after for some solace.
All she could think about was how she had dumped him and run like hell that night. He’d been so nice to her, so encouraging about her singing, and she’d only thought of herself. And when he’d needed her she hadn’t even had the courage to pick up the phone and offer verbal support.
Thank God they’d won that fourth game, in an amazing come-from-behind victory, too. The entire third period had been nail-bitingly exuberant. She hoped it was an amazing turnaround and they’d hop on a winning streak with the start of their home games.
Yeah, and what if they hadn’t won? What if they’d lost the entire road trip? What would she have done then?
Nothing.
Some friend she was. Though she was more than a friend, wasn’t she? And that was the problem she’d been wrestling with, and why she continued to hold herself back, why she hadn’t picked up her cell phone and called or texted him. Their relationship was in some kind of limbo. She wasn’t his girlfriend, but she was more than just a friend to him.
She had no idea what to do.
Yeah, right, Jenna. You’re so afraid of getting involved with him that you’ve reined yourself in, refusing to show Ty that you might actually care about him.
She was such a coward. In more than one way.
Disgusted with herself, she tossed the wipe-down rag in the bin and refused to face her own failings. Thankfully the bar was busy and she lost herself in work, but thoughts of Ty kept creeping in despite her best efforts to shove them aside.
She was going to have to face up to it—to him—and deal. There would be no more hiding.
It was an off night, so she fully expected him and the other guys to show up here. They’d all receive moral support from the patrons in her bar, and maybe she’d have a free minute to pull him aside and talk to him.
They were friends, she’d tell him. They’d had some fun, but it was time for her to pull back and remind him that’s all it was going to be between them. She’d already gotten too close and allowed herself to get emotional about him, to feel bad when he lost. For the love of God, she’d been watching hockey, had been invested in the outcome of the games.
That couldn’t happen. Her life—her future—was here at the bar. She might not have any control over that, but she could control who she fell for, and it wouldn’t be for someone who played sports.
The loud cheers alerted her to the front door, where Eddie, Victor, and a few other Ice players had walked in. It was so crowded she couldn’t see everyone, and she was so swamped she couldn’t get away to greet them until an hour later when she pulled Renee behind the bar and took a break.
She hadn’t seen Ty, but then again Riley’s was wall-to-wall people and the guys were playing pool at one of the tables in the far corner of the bar, out of her line of sight. Now she circled the bar, visiting with her customers, stopping at all the tables to ask everyone how their night was going. She stayed a little longer with the regulars because she knew them, and many knew her mom and dad so they asked how her dad was faring after his surgery last year.
It took her almost an hour to make her way over to the pool tables, where she had to put up with flirting from some of her regular guys. It was always harmless fun, because they all had her back and treated her like a sister. But her gaze skirted to the Ice players at the far end of the pool room.
She didn’t see Ty. Maybe he was off talking to someone in another area of the bar.
She finally extricated herself from the group of guys and made her way to the Ice players, sliding in between Eddie and Victor.
“I see you finally won a game.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Oh, man. It was a great game, too. Did you watch, Jenna?”
She patted him on the back. “Don’t I always? You really pulled that one out of the trash bin. It wasn’t looking good before that.”
“I know. We were on a nose dive, but we’re going to kick ass now that we’re back on the home ice.”
The sound of cheers went up all around them, and the players lifted their beers to salute the fans.
Jenna hovered around and chatted with them awhile, but Ty didn’t make an appearance. Finally, she had no choice but to ask.
“So, where’s your other best player tonight?”
“Ty? He didn’t come. Said he had other stuff to do.”
“Oh.”
“Or some one to do,” Victor said with a knowing smirk, and the guys laughed.
“Enjoy your night. Next round is on me.”
She left to the sound of cheers again and shook her head, waving at the guys, but her stomach clenched.
He didn’t come tonight. Other stuff to do.
What kind of stuff?
She relieved Renee and went back behind the bar, grabbing empty beer bottles and slamming them into the recycle bin with decided satisfaction.
So what if he had a date tonight? She’d made it clear they had no future together. They’d had sex only a couple times, and she’d totally blown him off that last night they had together. What had she expected, that he’d come running back to her and beg for more of the same treatment?
Yeah, right. Men love that.
Except that’s exactly what she’d expected. She’d been so smug and so sure of herself, certain he’d be back no matter how she treated him.
Only he wasn’t back, and now that he wasn’t, she missed him. She missed how he smelled, she missed how he felt, and she missed his sexy grin. She missed talking to him.
So what are you going to do about that, Jenna?
Normally she’d do nothing. She never chased a guy.
But she wasn’t finished with Ty just yet.
SIXTEEN
TY HAD HIS FEET UP ON THE SOFA, THE GAME CON-troller resting on his stomach as he stalked the enemy.
“Yeah, you bastard. You can run, but you can’t hide, because I know exactly where you are.”
He was as quiet as a rolling storm cloud as he snuck up behind his target, not even hesitating as he drew his knife and slit the enemy’s throat. Blood spurted from his victim’s neck and he fell to the ground.
He laughed as kill points rolled up against his online opponent.
“Kicked your ass, Warlord.” Whoever Warlord was. Probably some twelve year old who had no business playing a game this violent, but hey, he wasn’t the kid’s parent. He tossed the game controller on the sofa and stood, raking his fingers through his hair.
That game was so disgusting. Yet strangely addicting. If he ever had kids he wasn’t going to let them anywhere near video games. He was going to drag their butts out of the house as soon as they could walk and make them play sports.
Yeah, right. He’d probably sit side by side with them on the sofa and play those same violent war games with them.
Or, God forbid, he’d have girls and he’d end up playing some games that had to do with rainbow ponies. Or Barbie. Or something Disney related.
Yikes. Though the thought of a little girl with a long ponytail kicking around a soccer ball or becoming a skater like him—figure skater, though—didn’t horrify him as much as it would have a few years ago.
What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn’t going to get married, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to have kids.
Not anytime soon. No, not ever. The thought of screwing up some kid’s life the way his parents had done to him? No. He wouldn’t be responsible for that.
His cell phone rang and he frowned. He had no idea what time it was, but he knew it was late. He grabbed the phone, surprised to see Jenna’s number come up.
“Hey,” he said after punching the button.
“Hey yourself. I know, it’s really late. Were you asleep?”
He laughed. “Uh, no.”
“Are you on a date?”
Leave it to Jenna to be direct. “No. Are you?”
“Of course not. I had to work tonight.”
He looked at his phone. It was only midnight. “Shouldn’t you still be at work?”
“Yes. But I want to see you. Are you at home?”
He smiled. “Sure. Come on over.”
“Be right there.”
Interesting. And crap, his place was a cyclone. Gear in his living room, cans everywhere, and he was pretty sure the place smelled like gym socks. He did a quick pick up and vacuum, then sprayed with that stuff that took the odor out of the house. Hopefully it removed natural guy-stink.
By the time Jenna rang his doorbell, he had jumped in the shower and managed to pull on a pair of sweats and a clean T-shirt.
She looked great and he couldn’t help but feel a punch to the gut seeing her at his front door.
“Hi. Come in.”
She stepped inside. She smelled good, like she’d just sprayed on something that smelled wild and musky. He wanted to get closer and bury his nose in her neck to investigate that scent a little more, but he resisted the urge since he had no idea what she was doing here.