Heated Rivalry, page 1
Heated Rivalry
MM Hockey Romance
J.M. Jackie
Copyright © June 15th, 2024 J.M. Jackie All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Cover design by: J.M. Jackie
Printed in Toronto Ontario
Contents
1. Faceoff in the Spotlight
2. Blades and Sparks
3. The Battle Begins
4. Penalty Box Passion
5. Under the Arena Lights
6. Between the Pipes of Love
7. Puck Drops and Hearts Follow
8. Breakaway Desires
9. The Coach’s Dilemma
10. Feuding Hearts
11. Clash of the Titans
12. On Thin Ice
13. Offside Secrets
14. Power Play of the Heart
15. Road Tripping Romance
16. All-Star Attraction
17. Destructive Desire
18. Love in the Playoffs
19. Heart and Home
20. Rebound and Redemption
Other Works
About the Author
1
Faceoff in the Spotlight
Devon Black
Northgate University, Michigan, 2014
Standing at the base of the stairs, I checked the time for the fifteenth time, trying not to curse. The tension builds in my temple, like a subtle but insistent pressure, as if a tiny knot were forming, gradually intensifying the ache. “Marcy, let’s go!”
“I’m almost ready!” she called, and I gritted my teeth. We were already running ten minutes late, and any more delays and I’d miss the first practice of the season.
“Let’s go, Marcy, or else you won’t get a treat after school.”
“What treat?” She walked downstairs, carrying her backpack, wearing nothing but her pyjamas. Black wild curls tumbled down her shoulders, and I rushed over to quickly comb her hair and fix her clothes. Her bright tawny beige skin stood out in the light while her enormous eyes stared up at me.
“I told you to get dressed,” I hissed at her.
“I want to wear my pyjamas. All the other kids are.”
“Put on your clothes now!”
“But, Dad, everyone else—”
“I said now, Marcy! And don’t come down again without your clothes on.” Her chin wobbled, but she ran back upstairs to change.
“Don’t forget Marcy has ballet after school!” my mom yelled just as Marcy ran back downstairs.
“Okay!” I said, hurrying my daughter out the door to ensure we wouldn’t be late. I got her seated in the back seat of my crappy 2003 Honda minivan and raced down the freeway like a bat out of hell. Tires squealing, I pulled into the parking lot of her school and walked her to the front, ready to flee, but one teacher spotted me.
“Oh, Mr. Black, I’m so glad you’re here. Do you have a moment to speak?”
“I’m running late, sorry.”
“It won’t take much time. You see, Marcy’s ballet class hasn’t been paid yet, and—”
“I’ll get to it when I can, but I really can’t be late.” I knelt in front of Marcy and kissed her cheeks. “Be good. Don’t cause trouble.” She nodded, but her gaze was sad. I didn’t have time to think about it as I rushed off, and then, with growing horror, saw all the other kids arriving in their pyjamas.
Today was Pajama Day. Fucking hell. Running a hand over my three-day stubble, I snarled, revving up the engine and burning rubber as I sped off to university. I’d make it up to her later. Right now, I was running late to practice.
***
Bursting through the double doors, I hurried into the locker room just as the guys were heading onto the ice.
“Devon, you’re late!” one guy called. I flipped him off and then quickly stripped from my clothes and got into my gear. I took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar rich scent of the metal rink filling my nostrils. An icy wind slapped at my cheeks as I took center stage in front of the team, while Coach Leroy stood off to the side, his gaze unyielding.
Things had changed at Northgate University since Grayson left. I regained my position as team captain, but it came with a whole new set of responsibilities. Most of the guys would graduate this year, just like me, and the state nationals were looming. We had to make this the best game of the season.
“Listen up, Frost Vipers! We’ve got a game coming up in three weeks, and we’ve got to crush it,” I said, locking eyes with each player. “We can win this, but only if we keep it together! Remember our motto: On the ice, We Strike Twice!”
“On the ice, We Strike Twice!” they roared back.
“Now, let’s play!” I shouted. Vaulting down the rink, my heart hammered as Luke took his first shot, and I intercepted. My skates sliced through the ice with precision, as if I were born for this moment. We executed a fast, coordinated play. Everyone knew it was go hard or go home. I had no intention of letting my team go slack on my watch. On the ice, I locked eyes with Luke, the tension palpable between us as we faced off. The puck dropped, and we were in motion.
With swift, calculated moves, I weaved through the opposition, my skates slicing across the ice like blades. Vaulted down the ice, moving faster than a bullet as I intercepted Frank, who was too slow, and then weaved past Liam before passing the puck to Dustin, who lined up and took a shot.
“You’re off your game guys! Keep it moving!” I shouted, trying to keep the momentum up. Skating backward, I received a pinpoint pass from Jake, one of our most reliable forwards. I wound up for the shot, with my stick poised to strike.
Fuck, I loved this game. The seconds felt like hours. Carter’s focus was unyielding, but he couldn’t anticipate my next move. With a quick flick of my wrist, I released the puck with precision. It soared through the air, a streak of determination, and found its mark in the back of the net.
Yes! I pumped my first and kept going. We had several hours left and I wasn’t going to go easy on these guys.
Coach Leroy blew his whistle sharply, and the entire team gathered around him on the ice. “Alright, listen up, team. We’re going to run the 2-1-2 offensive play in the next period. Luke, you’ll take the lead on this one, and Carter, be ready to back him up.” He spoke in a calm, measured tone, but it was his eyes that unnerved most people. They were sleek and intense, like glossy beads that seemed to bore into your soul. He stood tall and lean, like a scarecrow, his frame wiry and angular. His nose was hawkish like a beak. Coach Leroy’s demeanor was a stark contrast to his physical appearance, always composed and in control.
Coach continued, “Remember, the key to this play is maintaining control of the puck and using the space wisely. We’ve practiced this countless times, so let’s execute it perfectly. Stay focused, give it your all, and let’s bring home a win, team. Hurry up and get into formation. A word, Devon?”
I groaned mentally but followed him to the benches. Coach Leroy wasted no more time. “What happened this morning? You were supposed to come in early and practice with Carter and Luke. I need you guys on you A game once state nationals hit.”
“I know it’s just shit with Marcy. Sorry.”
Coach Leroy fixed me with a hard look. “You said you could do both.”
My breath caught. I stared at him like I’d been slapped. Ever since Marcy was born, I have been juggling both school and hockey and trying to make sense of having my life turned upside down. “And I can—”
“Devon, you’re the best player I’ve got on this team, but you’ll be my worst if you let your personal issues get the best of you. Make a choice. I know it sounds harsh, and I pray God doesn’t strike me down for saying this, but you really need to decide what your life is going to be like in the future. Very few people turn into legends, and I believe you are one of the few.” Coach placed his hand on my shoulder and then blew his whistle again. “Get your head in the game or get off my ice.”
I felt each word like the slash of a whip. I nodded, skating back onto the ice and into formation. Carter’s pale green eyes found mine, and I shook my head. There wasn’t time to explain. Coach was right. I needed to decide and God willing, for Marcy’s sake, it had to be the right one.
***
“Hey man, are you good?” Carter asked, his broad shoulders leaning against the lockers as I peeled off my sweaty jersey. Practice had been brutal. Coach had us running three plays with me at the center. I knew I had great potential, but his words stabbed at my heart. Going pro meant giving up Marcy. Time spent with her travelling all over and playing the game I loved. I knew a lot of guys did the same thing, but few were my age. How did they do it? How did they cope with it?
Every time I thought of leaving her, bile surged hot and thick in my throat. I couldn’t do it. Not yet, especially since Amhara hadn’t figured her shit out yet. I didn’t want Marcy to grow up thinking I chose hockey over her.
“Hey.” Carter nudged my arm when I didn’t respond. “Are you okay?”
“Fine, shit’s just crazy right now.”
“It’s about to get worse,” Carter said, then passed me his phone. “You made the Dean’s List.”
“No fucking way!” I grabbed his phone. “Magna
Carter laughed as I read the document several times over, feeling my heart expand to the point of pain. Fuck, I had spent so many late-night hours studying for my Sports Medicine Degree and it had finally paid off.
Carter clapped me on the back. “Want to celebrate? I’ve got a shot with your name all over it.”
Fuck, I’d love to, but then I realized Marcy had ballet after school today and I didn’t want to be late to pick up after everything that happened this morning. “Raincheck? Marcy has ballet.”
“Bring her,” Carter said, his lips pulling into a wiry smile. “We can get you actually wasted, and her chocolate wasted. In moderation of course.”
“Laugh it up, Williams,” I said, shoving his shoulder as he chuckled. Carter ran a hand through his buzzed hair, and his pale green eyes flickered back up to mine. My throat went dry when our eyes met, and I forced myself to look away. Fuck, I needed to get laid. It had been months since I got off. Most of the guys on the team were straight except for Carter and Luke, but they were my closest friends. I wasn’t too keen on picking someone up from the club because of what had happened last time.
Carter rubbed his muscular arm, drawing my eyes back to all that smooth expanse of corded flesh. He was a big burly guy, just my type with light brown facial hair. He kept his hair buzzed, but it made his pale green eyes burn bright. We’ve been friends since junior year, and he was one of the people to help me after I went through an identity crisis after I slept with Marcy’s mom, before realizing that I was gay. Marcy knew I liked men. I never wanted to keep that from her.
Even her mom, Amhara, knew and was fully supportive of my choices.
“Or…” Carter drawled, keeping his voice low, “We can go back to that club again. What’s it called? Stud or something?”
“The names of these gay bars get worse and worse. I swear the next one will be called Pixie Dust, or some shit.”
“Or Glow Stick,” Carter said, and we both laughed. “But seriously, man, we should go. It’s been a while.”
It had. My dick was getting hard just thinking about it. “Nah, sorry man. I’ll pass.”
Carter shrugged, and I hated blowing him off so much. I knew he was eager to lose his virginity like I did the year prior, but some things were worth the wait. Besides, Carter deserved more than some back alleyway fuck.
“Want to grab some breakfast?” I asked, grabbing my backpack from my locker. I didn’t have class for another hour; it was still early in the morning since practice started around eight-thirty and ended at ten. I slipped into my Northgate red and white varsity jacket. It felt like wrapping myself in a warm cocoon. The fabric against my skin was sturdy, the material thick and warm over my arms.
“Lead the way,” Carter said. He quickly grabbed his stuff and together we left. Striding through the halls of the school, I waved to the people I knew and stopped to talk to a few others. Carter was used to me talking to so many people. As captain of the hockey team, I made it my business to talk to people on and off the team; it helped to build good relationships. To me, it was more than just a game. It was a lifestyle.
Being the team captain meant that in every aspect I represented the Frost Vipers, meaning I had to put my best foot forward. We found a spot near the back of the cafeteria, a few of the other guys were nearby, and we set our trays down. My phone buzzed in my pocket. Taking it out, I saw Amhara’s name flash on the screen.
Running late, but I’ll be there when Marcy gets out of Ballet, the text message read.
Shit. Was it her time to take Marcy already?
Sure. I texted her back and then slipped my phone back into my pocket, wondering how I was going to make it up to Marcy. Taking out my tuna fish sandwich, I took a bite trying to wince at the bland taste. I should go shopping. I was sick of tuna fish sandwiches and I’m sure Mary was too.
“So.” Carter leaned in close. “Do you remember what happened with the Mountainview Mavericks a few years ago?”
My heart slammed against my ribcage at the memory of the team. Fuck, that had been the biggest mistake of my life, and it haunted me to this day. The sandwich turned into a rock in my throat, but I swallowed it down, avoiding Carter’s piercing gaze. “What of it?”
“Turns out that guy you hurt made a full recovery,” Carter said. “I was keeping tabs on it, so I think you’re in the clear, man.”
I didn’t know what to say. I should have been thankful, but a part of me still felt guilty. The Mountainview Mavericks was a rival hockey team we played against during my junior year. It was a few years after Marcy was born, but Amhara was trying to figure out a schedule that worked for both of us before mentioning a custody agreement. The minute she said that I lost my shit. I thought she was trying to keep Marcy away from me. Anger had burst through me, vibrating through my skin like a live wire and by the time we geared up to play, I wanted to kill something.
Unfortunately, some poor sucker on the Mountainview Mavericks had gotten the brunt of my anger when I accidentally slammed into him during a game, almost shattering his fucking knee. Later on, I tried to find the guy too, but he disappeared. I never knew what happened to him, but hearing this news made me feel slightly better.
“If you find out who he is, let me know. I still feel like a jackass after everything that happened.”
“No worries, man. I’ve got you.” Carter said, then went back to eating his lunch. I finished up my sandwich, and I realized I had to be in class in fifteen minutes. Crumbling the wrapper, I tossed it into the garbage and stood.
“All right, I’m out of here. I’ll see you at practice next week,” I said, bumping his fist and heading out. There was a strange commotion at the door. Several girls were squealing and staring up at a large man that towered over the rest. Huh. Maybe some celebrity? I shrugged and weaved my way through the crowd, ready to get this day over with.
2
Blades and Sparks
Devon Black
I raced to Marcy’s school with only two seconds to spare. The class ran later than I expected, and I was now dreadfully late for picking up Marcy and dropping her off at her ballet session. I hurried inside the building, scanning the room until I spotted her sitting on a plastic chair, her tiny legs swinging.
“Daddy!” Marcy exclaimed as she saw me and dashed over. I gathered her in my arms, making sure I had all her things with me. just then the same teacher from this morning cornered me.
“Ah! Mr. Black, one moment, please—”
“I’m so sorry I’m running late. Call me later. I promise I’ll make the payment,” I blurted out, nearly fleeing out the door with Marcy in my arms. I quickly settled her into her car seat in the back of the car and rushed off to her ballet session.
“How was your day, sweetheart?” I asked her as we drove.
“It was okay,” Marcy replied, unusually quiet.
“Look, I’m sorry you missed Pajama Day, and to make it up to you, we can grab McDonald’s later.”
Marcy perked up immediately. “Okay!”
“Your mom is picking you up at the house later. Don’t forget.”
“I won’t, Daddy!”
After Marcy’s ballet session, I took her to McDonald’s and treated her to a Happy Meal, then headed home. When we walked in, my mom was busy in the kitchen, and Marcy rushed over to kiss her on the cheek. “Why does my grandbaby smell like cheap fries and cornstarch?” my mom asked with a hint of criticism in her voice.
“That’s because I fed her that,” I responded, my irritation evident. My mom grumbled under her breath, and I headed out to the van to grab my hockey gear.
I went into the laundry room to wash some of my clothes and then heard the doorbell ring. Marcy ran to answer it, and I quickly followed, stopping her from opening the door.
“What did I say about opening the door for strangers?” I reminded her.
“Daddy, Mom isn’t a stranger.”
“It doesn’t matter. Wait for me to open the door,” I insisted, shaking my head. I opened the door to find Amhara standing there, a broad smile on her face.
“Hello!” Marcy jumped into her mother’s arms and squealed with delight as Amhara swung her around. Black wild curls tumbled down Amhara’s back as she hugged Marcy and kissed her cheek. Her Ethiopian dark skin was a mesmerizing bronze, glowing in the fading light as she set Marcy down.
