Rinkmates: A steamy Hockey Romance (The Mates series Book 1)

The first thing I think about after we win is Liora.

And I see her waiting there for me with the other family members of the players, and we stupidly grin at each other. Oh, I could get used to this.

Behind me, I hear Colton whisper to Jayce. “Do you see how he’s looking at her?”

“Yeah,” Jayce whispers back.

I’m tempted to ask about how I look, but she’s heading my way, and I can’t help but feel giddy because I get to kiss her again. I want to take her to every game, spending every day together outside, just to play the perfect fake couple—it’s becoming a fun game.Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

Just as Jayce says, “Yeah, like he’s in love,” Coach whisks me away to the other side. Away from her. And I can’t describe the disappointment that washes over me.

He’s babbling away, excited as Christmas Eve about me not acting out. I truly believe it’s because of Liora. Because of that friendly face behind the glass that grounds me, makes me believe that I’m worth it to be here. It’s not my parents. It’s me who brought me here.

“Riley, my boy! That was some game you played out there!” Coach exclaims, slapping me on the back.

I turn my head to search for her, but the crowd is already between us, her eyes on me as I mouth a Sorry. “The way you kept your cool, even when Houston was trying to get you fucked again…I’m proud of you, son.”

I nod, my eyes still locked on her. Damn. She is so pretty in my jersey. “Thanks, Coach, glad you’re happy for once.”

Coach follows my gaze and chuckles. “Ah, young love. I remember those days.” I want to say it’s not love because fuck that word is heavy, but he just barrels on like a freight train. “We need to focus on the media now. They’re waiting for you.”

I tell him that I need to see her first, but he just shakes his head and pulls me toward the media section. “We need you to discuss that heated moment with Houston and the way you turned that game, boy.”

I look at Liora, feeling so disappointed and wave goodbye to her. I know she needs to go because they have to go back to practice. She has an insane schedule. This show needs every second she can give. But damn, it’s going to be days until I can see her again. Our team is staying in Boston for another game against the Bears before heading home to prepare for two more matches against them in New York.

But duty calls, and I know I have to put on my game face for the cameras. So, I’m giving interviews to local radio stations and sports journalists. They’re all asking about our strategy, how we managed to weave through the opposing team’s defenses like the rink was ours. I answer their questions on autopilot.

After the interviews, we have a press conference. It’s me, Jayce, Colton, Derek, and Shane, all sitting up there to discuss our plans all over again. The interviewers fire off questions, and I do my best to answer.

“What adjustments did you make from the last game?” one of them asks.

I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. “We watched a lot of tape,” I say. “We studied our opponents, looked for weaknesses in their strategy, and then we adjusted our own game plan accordingly.”

Jayce nods beside me. “Coach really drilled us on the importance of adaptability,” he adds. “We knew we couldn’t just rely on the same old tricks. We had to be ready to change things up at a moment’s notice.”

As we talk, I can feel the energy in the room shifting. The reporters are hanging on our every word, eager to get a glimpse into the mind of a winning team. But then, the reporters’ questions shift, and suddenly, they’re asking about that moment—the one where Liora was banging on the glass, crying out my name, trying to pull me back from the brink.

“It seemed like an important moment,” one reporter says. “Does it make a difference, knowing there’s someone watching who loves you?”

I pause, considering the question.

I’ve always told them that my family watches from home, that they’re too busy with their business to come to the games in person. But the truth is, they don’t really care about me. They only care about the numbers, the stats, the wins and losses.

My relationship with my dad is so fucked up that he only communicates with me through Ethan. He updates him on all the opportunities I’ve missed and what I should be focusing on next.

“It makes all the difference in the world,” I say finally, my voice rough.

As the words leave my mouth, I am taken aback by how true they are.

Having someone out there cheering for me feels different. “Knowing that she’s there, that she believes in me…it gives me a strength I never knew I had.”

The reporters keep pushing, asking more questions about Liora, about our relationship, asking me if I can describe her a little.

“Well, let’s just say, since she’s come into my life, I have an unhealthy number of dead plants in my apartment, because she likes to save what others think is rotten.” That thought makes my stomach twist. I suddenly feel like something rotten she’s ready to heal too.

Although there would be so much to add, like her dancing through my kitchen to silly songs or the moment when I discovered she showers with PAW Patrol shampoo. The moment I got addicted to that smell on her. I’m glad when Coach says that we’re not here to discuss my horizontal mambos but rather our gameplay, I can’t help but laugh out loud.

It’s about time to do that mambo. I shit on the consequences. I’m ready to go full in and just hope I’m not about to ruin it. Because if someone was ever worth getting hurt over, it’s her.

Play-offs are hella different from the regular season. Unless you get a sweep and end a series early, there definitely isn’t time to have a bunch of practices. There is a ton more video review than the regular season as we try to figure out how to counter what the other teams are doing. We’re staying in the hotel, having a bit of general calisthenics and massages to keep our muscles activated. Free ice time is important—it’s wild what it can do to your head. Coach just emphasized no partying until the play-offs are done. Since we actually have a chance at the Cup, we behave for once.

That and my little blonde monster is why I don’t have girls in my hotel room like last year. Instead, I lie in my hotel bed and text Liora because I really miss her.

Hey. I delete that again. What should I text her? Stop acting like a teenager. Just text.

Riley: What are you doing?

Much to my surprise she immediately texts back with a photo of the dance studio. It shows Aiden with two dance teachers.

Bladezilla: Aiden is learning how to lift me in this new routine. I’m just watching and texting with Mom until it’s safe enough for me to try.

Riley: How long have you been training? Starting to worry you’re overdoing it.

Bladezilla: Five hours.

Riley: You should take a break.

Bladezilla: What are you up to? Practicing your victory dance with the Cup?

Riley: Nah, just had a spa day.

Bladezilla: Sounds fun.

Riley: Sitting in a sauna with twelve naked dudes scratching their asses isn’t, trust me.

Bladezilla: A man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.

Riley: I’m bored. Send me something beautiful.

Bladezilla: *Sends photo of the night sky*

Riley: How about you turn that phone around?

Bladezilla: I’m not sending you a photo of me.

Riley: Why not? Not asking for nudes.

Bladezilla: I’m working, Riley.

Riley: Makes it more fun. Here, I’ll go first.

Bladezilla: You’re not sending nudes!

Riley: *Sends selfie lying back, winking*

Bladezilla: *Sends a photo, looking serious*

Riley: Love that look. Feels like home.

Bladezilla: Gotta go, they’re about to lift me up.

Riley: They need three people to lift you? I could do it with one finger.

Bladezilla: They’re spotting me. Safety first.

Riley: Good luck. If they break anything, I’m coming after them.

Riley: Will you watch the game tomorrow?

Bladezilla: Only if you win.

Riley: Of course, we’ll knock ’em out.