I’m trying my best to stay out of my head and enjoy the day for the good time it’s meant to be. JD is already gushing over the clickbait we turned the save streak challenge into, and she seems to have forgiven me for my post against Bishop. Why can’t I shake off the anxiety of being compared to Ryan?
Outside of us both taking part as shooters in the save streak challenge, we don’t even directly compete against each other.
A part of me wishes I could get away with calling Mels, because she always has a way of making everything—winning the Cup, the pressure I feel about trying to prove myself outside of being Ryan Donnelly’s bother, all the bullshit—fade away.
Even now, as I lean against the boards in front of one of the team benches, I can’t help but think of my girl.
JD has Jake’s Optimus Prime goalie mask propped on top of her head like a hat while the two of them canoodle over the half wall, my sister staying safely off the ice.
The two of them have been hashtag couple goals since college, and with Mels I finally feel like I’ve found my shot at it.
Ryan and Wade are hanging with the lovebirds while Tucker and Cali—an honorary member of the BTU Alumni contingent—are joking around with Sean and Carlee about my little brother’s goal. The two youngins have been among the family members allowed on the ice since Ryan’s first All-Star appearance his rookie season.
“I still can’t believe you weren’t the one to score on Jake, Tuck.” Carlee lives for taunting her brother’s best friend.
“I was taking it easy on him, Car.” Tucker holds out a fist to bump. The way my fuckboy of a friend completely melts for the kids has always been one of my favorite things to witness.
“Don’t let him lie to you, babe. None of them bring it like me.” Sean thumps his chest twice then throws out his arms.
“How does Mom put up with your ego?” Ryan pulls Sean into a headlock and ruffles his hair.
“She was well practiced after dealing with yours for years.”
“Burn!” Tucker cries, stretching out his arm for another fist bump, the two of them blowing it up at the end.
“You ever worry about what he’ll be like once he surpasses all of us in his career?” Jake asks me as he leans around Cali.
“Honestly”—I look over to where Sean and Carlee are laughing together—“if Carlee wasn’t in his life, I’d be afraid he’d turn out like Tuck.”
“Hey!” Tuck shoves me to the side.
“What?” I hold my hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying that kid has every ounce of game and swagger we have—as much as all of us put together. Combine that with how promising of a hockey player he’s proving to be, and homeboy will slay it with the girls.”
“Truth.” Tucker agrees. “He will be crushing pussy.”
“Tucker!” JD yells, and Jake reaches out to slap him upside the head.
“Sorry, Blondie.”
“You better be, BB3.”
“He totally will though.” Cali’s whisper isn’t as quiet as he thinks, and now he’s the one being smacked.
“I swear the twins are more mature than all of you.” JD pulls out her phone to take some behind-the-scenes footage to use on our social media accounts.
Tuck has been in rare form after winning the day’s first event—fastest skater. I’m waiting for premier passer, my first event.
The Zamboni has already finished resurfacing the ice, and we’re just waiting for coordinators to finish setting up.
There are three parts to the challenge. First, I get ten pucks to successfully pass from behind the net to three plastic hockey player cutouts in front of it.
Next, I have to get a puck in four different mini nets. The size of the net isn’t the challenging part; it’s having to bounce the puck over a plastic barrier in front of it that’s tough.
Finally, I have to hit four of the five targets set up at the opposite end of the rink when they are lit, with the targets changing every three seconds. The player who completes all three in the least amount of time is the winner.
I’ve won this event both times I’ve competed in it, and I’m not looking to have that change. The title I would like to get back is hardest shot. Fucking Nate Bishop stole it from me last year.
The lights inside the arena dim, and everyone not competing in the premier passer challenge exits the ice to sit on the team benches. They announce all the players in the order they will compete, my teeth snapping together when I hear them call Bishop’s name right before mine as the last competitor.
The tension in my jaw only intensifies when Bishop is the only one who manages to come close to my time from last year of one minute ten seconds.
“Sure you can handle this, Donnelly? Or are you going to need your little brother to come out and take care of this one for you too?” Bishop says as we pass each other on the ice.
I deserve a medal for not engaging with him.
“Or maybe we should have your sister try. I’d even be willing to teach her the proper way to handle a stick.”
Sonofabitch.
I go from Bruce Banner to the Hulk in zero seconds flat. My stick clatters on the ice and my gloves bounce in opposite directions as I toss them down with a flick of my wrist. I surge forward, grab him by the front of his sweater, and haul him inches from my face.
I’m seething, full-on raging at this asshole.
“I dare you to say something else about JD.” I move in even closer, our noses brushing.
Hatred burns in his eyes as he glares at me. Well, join the club, motherfucker. The feeling is more than mutual.
I couldn’t tell you why I never mentioned anything about the shit he’s spewed through the years. Maybe it’s because she’s my twin and I feel like it’s my responsibility, or maybe I’m just trying to keep the peace and keep everyone out of jail. Who knows.
I release my grip, shoving him away hard enough that we both glide backward.
“Buckle up, buttercup, and watch what an Olympic-level player can do.”
I give him a wink as I take my own dig.
I may have my hang-ups about being compared to Ryan, but I sure as shit know I’m better than Nate Bishop.
Time to fucking prove it.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
THE BIG HAMMER: *picture of sweet potato fries*
BROADWAY BABY: Do I even want to ask?
THE BIG HAMMER: They’re sweet potato fries.
BROADWAY BABY: Yes, I can see that, All-Star. But why are you sending me a picture of them?
THE BIG HAMMER: I wanted you to know I miss you and I’m thinking about you, my little sweet potato.
BROADWAY BABY: *GIF of girl rolling her eyes*
THE BIG HAMMER: *boomerang of Jase winking*
BROADWAY BABY: Dammit!
THE BIG HAMMER: Hehe.
BROADWAY BABY: OMG. Did you really just type hehe?
THE BIG HAMMER: Don’t hate.