“Fuck you,” she seethes just as the whistle is blown.
When Coach comes up beside us, we don’t break our intense stare-off as he says, “Well, apparently, there is some animosity here. And yeah, I like it. I like the drive and the fighting for your position shit, but yeah, this is not the place for a screaming match.”
“Yeah, well, when you’re fighting with a girl, there is no other way of talking out your issues other than screaming,” I say, and her eyes slit even more.
“Well, you would know, being the biggest bitch on the ice,” she says, and I swear, why did I want to fuck her again?
Chuckling, Coach shakes his head. “Well, I guess you two will be doing laps for the rest of practice. Burn off some steam. Go,” he says and then blows the whistle, but we don’t move.
I’m not moving until she does, but then I can see she isn’t going to move until I do.
“You’re so intent on beating me, yeah?”
“Oh, there is no contest,” she snaps back, and the fire in her eyes has me feeling all kinds of ways.
“Laps!” Coach yells, and I actually do jump. “Now!”
Tearing my gaze from hers, I turn and start my laps. I know they are to cool me down, but of course, she tries to pass me, and then all of a sudden, we are racing.
I know.
It’s downright pitiful, but what can I say?
I can’t let her beat me.
When practice is over, though, I wish I had just let her beat me because I basically crawl into the locker room, lying across the bench.
Laughing, Markus says, “Man, Moore is gonna make you work for that spot, huh, Jay?”
“Fuck off, Markus,” I grumble, closing my eyes.
Markus then taps my back as Shane says, “She’s giving you a run for that money though. She’s a fast little shit.”
“For sure, she’s good too,” Kuntz says and I nod.
“Too good,” I say in agreement, shaking my head.
“Who would have thunk it?” Blomqvist says. “A girl, that good.”
“She isn’t a girl,” I decide. “She’s a hybrid.”
“Fuck you,” I hear her say then, and I wave my hand.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter as I watch her little pink toes walk by.
Brat. But even if she is, I get up and crawl to the shower door to make sure no one goes in. It’s been three days, and everyone’s been pretty compliant, except for McCarthy. He bitches every day about it, but no one is going in there while she’s in there.
“She didn’t beat you, don’t worry,” Jace says from my left, and I nod.
“Thanks, but she almost did.”
“Oh yeah,” he agrees. “If Coach wouldn’t have blown that whistle, she would have.”
I know, but before I can say that, McCarthy is running his mouth.
“Are you doing this to impress her, Sinclair?”
Shaking my head, I let a breath out of my nose. “I don’t try to impress anyone but scouts.”