Delayed Penalty Part 14

Play came to a halt at center ice when the number forty-two Blackhawk got into it with one of the Canucks.

Evan was on the bench, his face red, shouting his own spew of words at the two, apparently upset.

"Those two are always at it," Callie said, motioning to Remy Carson, left wingman for our team.

Look at me. Our team?

Evan jumped over the boards and back on the ice, my eyes glued to him.

"Ahem..." Callie cleared her throat, and I looked over at her sheepishly. "You're watching his hips, aren't you?"

Turning my head, I tried to focus back on the game. I could feel her staring at me as I watched Evan on the ice. It was making me really uncomfortable, and the thought of maybe kicking something or asking those guys in the green jumpsuits to distract her looked pretty good. I did none of that and decided to just tell the truth.

"What? No...yes...is that bad?" I didn't bother to argue.

"No." She smiled, bringing her drink to her lips. "Evan's got moves," she said flippantly, shrugging as if she hadn't said the one thing that could get me to blush.

There was a lot to be said about attending a live hockey game. You could actually hear the sights and sounds, but you could also feel the skates grating against the ice, the sticks hacking at the puck, the hard checks into the boards, the grunts from the players, whistles, yelling, shoving, and chirping-all part of the game experience.

I loved watching Evan. He was quick, but any time I caught a glimpse of him with his hair wildly sticking out past his helmet, wet from the exertion, and his cheeks flushed, I was hooked. I would be a hockey fan for life now.

"f.u.c.k!" Callie shook her head, raising her drink. "He's not watching Kolten."

I looked up to see Evan pause across the ice, up against the boards, the puck on his stick, watching Remy to his right. Kolten, a player on the Canucks, was coming right at him. I cringed when Evan was checked against the board and knocked off his feet.

Leo skated by as Evan got to his feet and appeared to say something to him. I could see Evan's jaw set in determination and a fire burning in his eyes as he shot up the ice again behind that Kolten guy.

Leo had the puck again, tearing up the right side of the ice before faking left and firing a shot at the upper left of the net. He brought his hand to the sky, pumping the air twice, before his team was all over him.

The foghorn went off, the crowd shouted, and I couldn't stop myself from cheering when Evan, Leo, and Remy got together, hugging as the stadium blared with "Chelsea Dagger."

The game was close the rest of that period when the Canucks scored to tie it.

When they came out for the second period, it was clear that the guys were getting more and more aggressive. The occasional hand in the face or slamming against the boards was no longer tolerated and answered with an even harder hit down ice or the occasional brawl.

Having never been to a game, I had no idea what to expect, but Callie was there to walk me through it all.

"Evan is usually pretty aggressive out there. Leo is the instigator, along with Remy, but Evan cleans up their messes. But..." She held up her drink. "...if they get personal with Evan, Leo will get physical."

I heard what she said and watched with just as much attention. Sure enough, when that Canucks player, Kolten, got chirpy again and b.u.mped Evan, muttering a string of what looked like lewd remarks, Leo shoved him hard into one of his teammates. When the linesman called him on it, Leo grinned. "What? He tripped."

The guy tried to land a punch on Leo, only to be shoved back by Evan.

I wasn't sure what he said back to Leo, but Leo stuck his gloved hand in his face. "You think I meant to hit you? f.u.c.k you. You'd know if I f.u.c.king hit you." Evan, who was still beside Leo, gave the guy a face full of his glove and was called for roughing.

Callie and I both laughed, having heard that over the screaming fans. She then had a full ten minute conversation with me about what icing meant.

"Evan's hand-eye coordination is impressive for a defenseman," Callie said. Evan was to our left balancing a puck on the end of his stick. "Sam was always working with him on that when he was a kid."

"Did you know Evan when he was a kid?"

"No. I met him last year, but he's told me a lot about his dad."

The screaming around me brought us back to the game as the Blackhawks scored again. This time it was Remy with an a.s.sist from Leo.

The entire display of athleticism was quick, fast, and even brutal at times. It was an entirely different side to Evan. I watched in awe as he poked at the puck and other players' sticks trying to gain control. He was pus.h.i.+ng and b.u.mping into other players, slamming them against the boards.

Just when I would catch sight of him, he'd be gone again. This time he twisted in an impressive pivoting maneuver. Leo gained the possession and started skating backward with the same speed they carried in the forward motion.

During the intermission between the second and third periods, Callie was trying to figure out how to get me into the bar later. Evan had briefly mentioned they usually headed to a bar called The Fifty/50. I was eighteen. That wasn't happening.

"I'm only eighteen."

Callie must have known. "It doesn't matter when you show up with the Blackhawks."

At the start of the third period, Callie explained a few plays I didn't understand.

"Watch, O'Brien will put in Mase. He knows how to work guys like Ressen back in the crease and make 'em play the pipes."

Ah yes, more hockey lingo.

Mentally, I was constantly taking notes on all the terms. I could see myself throwing out hockey slang the next game like I actually understood it. The thought made me smile thinking about how proud Sam would be.

Callie knew her s.h.i.+t, though. I was thoroughly impressed with her knowledge of the sport.

Sure enough, they put Evan in, and he scored within a minute for the Hawks.

Watching him celebrate the goal was adorable. The horn sounded, the same goal song played, and Evan leaned back, his weight all on his left foot, and he raised his right knee, bending his arm at the elbow and pulling it toward his body in a celebratory move, his stick raised in the air.

Much of the third period was spent with Evan in the penalty box from either roughing or boarding, and then finally a ten minute major for fighting that Kolten player near the board on the opposite side of us. I couldn't see much of the fight, but heard the screaming and knew what was happening.

A few fans s.h.i.+fted, and I was able to get a better view of them fighting. Seeing Evan so wild and aggressive was not what I expected. It was a huge turn on. My breath was practically panting.

Nice. He's fighting, and you're turned on.

Evan sprang forward again after violent jabs flew back and forth between the two of them when Evan caught hold of Kolten's jersey, and his next blow landed solidly on his face, snapping his face back and drawing blood. The refs finally stepped in and pulled them apart. Evan was still simmering, though he didn't fight the refs as they restrained his hands, leading him to the penalty box.

He seemed agitated when he was in the penalty box, mostly because he was in there and the Canucks scored again. Each goal from the Canucks was met with quiet groans as the crowd seemed to pretend nothing happened. Their good plays were met with booing and their mistakes with cheers that would light the entire place up.

The game ended in overtime with Leo capturing the final goal, extending their wins to 43-16. I only knew this from Callie. She was an expert when it came to that s.h.i.+t, and though Evan had told me she was a diehard fan, I truly had no idea until being around her tonight.

"It usually takes the boys a while to get to the bar." Callie reached for my hand, tugging me along. "Evan said we could meet them there."

"But I'm not twenty-one..."

"Doesn't matter." We moved quickly through the crowd, my hand linked with Callie's again. "They won't ask."

Thirty minutes later I was inside my first bar, underage and freaking out that any minute some overly large bouncer was going to come kick me out.

Callie was chatty and giving me the lowdown on all the players I had seen, most of which she had slept with. I hadn't asked, but I had a feeling she and Evan had slept together at one time. "So are all the guys in here some kind of athlete?" Most of them looked like they had money, and not just any kind of money; it was I-could-buy-this-bar-tonight money.

"Yeah." Callie shrugged. "Mostly. But you'll never get them to say, especially the hockey players."

"Why's that?"

"Hockey players never admit to strangers they're a hockey player."

"How do you know who is then?"

"Just look for the ones who talk bulls.h.i.+t."

I had to laugh. I understood what she was saying completely. They were goofy and full of themselves, but also secretive. "Why won't they admit they're hockey players?"

"They don't want to be treated differently. No athlete does. When they're here...they're having a good time."

Our talk continued, but I could barely concentrate on her. My eyes darted everywhere, not wanting to be caught off guard when Evan came in.

When I did see Evan come in, he was holding back a little, his hands in the pockets of his suit pants, his hair wet from his post-game shower, making it slightly darker.

The guys surrounded us, Leo and Remy hugging Callie, along with two other players I didn't know, but remembered their faces from the game. They quickly shot off different directions, finding privacy in the corners.

Evan stepped forward, his arm around my shoulder as Leo and Remy talked about their recent road trip. He looked down at the gla.s.s in my hand, smiled, and then nodded to the bartender who handed him what appeared to be a beer.

When he lowered his head and whispered words meant only for me, my pulse went crazy. "You look pretty."

Laughter from behind caused me to look back at the boys. Evan stayed beside me, the warmth of his body comforting as it always was.

"Her neighbors know my name," Remy said, winking at me. I noticed his tattoos right away. His forearms were covered in black markings I found incredibly interesting. Evan had some of the same markings on his own forearms, as did Leo. I had a feeling it was another one of their bonds they all seemed to have with one another.

Evan scrunched his eyebrows at Remy, trying not to laugh at his teammates, but you could tell his friendly banter was normal behavior.

"Nice," Leo said, looking for details and taking Callie's beer from her. "Was she hot?"

Evan let out a sigh and motioned to Remy. "Ami, this is Remy Carson, right wing for the Chicago Blackhawks." Remy had to be at least six foot four and was a wall of pure muscle. I probably would have found him intimidating if not for his smile and flirty grin, complete with dimples. His eyes were a syrup color and filled with more mischief than someone who was only twenty-four needed to have. His hair was dark, shaved down almost to a buzz cut that blended into a scruff that appeared to be neatly groomed.

"Remy..." Evan knocked his fist against his shoulder. "...this is Ami."

"I know," Remy teased, ruffling Evan's wet hair. Though he tried to glare at him, I could see that Remy was a good friend of Evan's. "So you're the girl that's got Mase staying away from the puck bunnies, eh?"

"Yeah, I guess." I had to laugh when I felt Evan tense beside me.

"Dude, come on." Evan swatted at Remy, the guys standing behind us started laughing.

"Oh relax," Remy offered with a lighthearted smirk. "I was only teasing."

"You want my d.i.c.k, don't you?" Leo said, licking the side of Callie's face.

Callie rolled her eyes and turned the other way.

"And that's Leo...but you've met him."

Instead of giving me a h.e.l.lo wave, Leo wrapped his arms around me in a big bear hug. "Nice to see you again," he said as though he was trying to be polite, but wanted to say something so much worse. I think Evan's glare kept him in check.

The next few hours were filled with laughter and the behavior of a close-knit group of guys who truly loved to pick on each other. Based on the stories Evan had told me, I shouldn't have been surprised when they welcomed me into their group just like his family had.

It wasn't long before I was recruited by Remy to try and get Leo as he tried to make a move on Cage without him knowing. Remy loved to act like he was in on whatever prank Leo had planned and then twist it to his advantage.

"What do you usually drink?" I asked Evan.

"Beer," he answered, only to have Leo shout, "s.e.x on the beach!" throughout the bar.

Evan hung his head. "One f.u.c.king time I ordered that. One time." He took a drink of his beer, and I watched him. Even drinking beer was s.e.xy. Playing hockey, flirting, stealthy stares, this guy had it all down. Imagine what else he could do...because I did. Frequently.

"And you'll never live it down," Remy reminded him, his eyes wandering toward a blonde in tight jeans who pa.s.sed by him.

Everyone chatted happily, mostly about the game, energized by their win. It was interesting to hear about the other side of the game, what the guys went through.

I was amazed, but not surprised at how comfortable I was around all these guys. When I would talk, they listened and responded, seemingly interested in what I had to say.

Food arrived, and Evan had his arm slung over the back of my chair, relaxing. Callie noticed and winked as she sat on Leo's lap. I had asked her if they were dating, but she said no, they occasionally f.u.c.ked. Her words not mine, but she wasn't dating any one person. I had a feeling she was just as much of a player as the rest of the guys on the team. But she was cool with it.

"Who are those guys?" I asked, motioning to the crowd surrounding two of the players on his team. The taller one with dark hair had two or three girls on his arms and smiled at us.

Evan looked over his shoulder at them and rolled his eyes. "Dave Keller and Jimmy Null."

"They seem to attract quite the crowd."

"Yeah, they do," Evan said, finding my hand under the table. "You're not friends with them?"

"I'm friends with them, but it's disgusting the way they treat some of those girls," Evan muttered, watching Leo who was now strangely crawling across the bar on his hands and knees. "It's disrespectful. You remember me telling you about Dave, right? The guy I lived with last year?" I nodded. Evan tipped his head to the guy. "That's him."

I had to smile at the tone in Evan's voice, clearly displaying his distaste for treating girls that way. I looked over at Dave again.

"Everyone has this image of a professional athlete, that we're all a bunch of womanizing p.r.i.c.ks. Not all of us are. Some are good."

"Leo seems like a great guy," I teased, knowing he'd react.

He raised his eyebrows. "Don't let him brainwash you."

Just as I was about to say something else, that Dave guy came over with two other teammates, I a.s.sumed. Evan smiled up at Dave and pointed to me. "Dave, this is Ami."

Callie, who was still seated across from us got up and walked away. Dave gave her a look and then rolled his eyes, his attention back on me.

Dave gave me a nod. "Hey, glad you're okay there. Evan was pretty worried about you."

Evan gave an eye roll, as if to play it down, but I knew. "Come on, man, lay off."

Dave laughed, pus.h.i.+ng against his shoulder playfully. "I'm teasing, buddy."