| �Watch it, Murls,� Brielle muttered under her breath, watching the scrimmage from her spot perched on top of the boards in front of the bench. She watched Matt�s head drop to look at the puck at the end of his stick. Within a matter of seconds, before Brielle could barely blink, Steve had checked him into the boards, sending his helmet flying off of his head. Matt sat on the ice, looking around, clearly stunned as Steve stole and passed the puck to Kris, who started skating it toward his goal. Before Steve joined Kris, he held out his gloved hand to help Matt up. �Don�t ever take your eyes off your man when you get the puck in a corner,� Steve said. �Things like that happen.� Matt nodded his head and skated with Steve to the other end of the ice, leaving him to join Brielle at the bench, letting Toby take his place as a wing for his scrimmage team. Brielle smiled as Matt skated toward her, wiping the sweat from his brow. �Never saw it coming, eh?� she asked. Matt shook his head no and jumped to sit on the boards next to Brielle. �Now I know why he�s been in the NHL for damn near nine years,� he commented, taking off his gloves and placing them on the boards between himself and Brielle. Brielle glanced across the arena. �Yeah,� she said. �That�s my big brother.� �You must be proud,� Matt commented, tossing his left glove from hand to hand. Brielle smiled. �You have no idea. Hell, I don�t think he even knows how proud of him I am.� Brielle watched Steve let a slap shot go, and watched it fly right above Jean Sebastien Aubin�s shoulder. �That�s his strongest shot, a slap shot. He hardly ever misses a slap shot.� �Neither do you, I hear,� Matt commented, grabbing a nearby water bottle and taking a large gulp. Brielle frowned and looked at Matt. �Whaddya mean by that?� she asked, suspicious of Matt�s intentions. Matt looked at her and grinned. �A little birdie told me that you have a mean slap shot, and that you�ve had it since you were twelve.� Brielle�s eyes widened as she watched Matt fix his vision on Meloche, who was digging a puck from a corner, battling with Tom for control. After he was sure that she saw who he was looking at, he turned back to her and smiled. By the time his vision met hers, Matt could practically see the steam coming from Brielle�s ears. �I�ve had a mean slap shot since I was seven,� Brielle growled, picking up her gloves and putting them on. �Need a demonstration?� she asked, jumping down from the boards and grabbing her stick. Murley laughed. �Sure, Ellie,� Matt said, grabbing a puck and tossing it onto the ice in front of Brielle. He jumped down off the boards, and by the time he had grabbed his gloves and turned around to follow Brielle to the open net, she was already on the blue line, winding up for a slap shot. The shot went in the goal, hitting the back of the net with a crack that was heard throughout the arena. The men on the other side of the ice turned to look at Brielle skating toward the net to retrieve the puck. The scrimmage immediately stopped, and all eyes turned to the assistant coach. Steve stood behind the AHL team, watching their reactions to Brielle�s dead on slap shot. Brielle leaned over, grabbed the puck and turned around to see the team staring at her, their mouths gaping open. �What?� she asked, dropping the puck back on the ice and skating it down the ice. �Since when could you shoot like that?� Toby asked, looking from Brielle to the puck at the end of her stick and back. Brielle laughed. �Since I was seven. Right, Stevie?� Steve smiled. �Yep.� �Bullshit,� Meloche mumbled under his breath. �Hey Brielle, are we about done? I have things to do,� he said louder, shifting from foot to foot. Brielle nodded, and said, �Yeah, you can leave whenever you want to.� Steve had heard Eric mutter, and followed him off the ice without saying a word. When they were in the tunnel leading to the dressing room, Steve coughed to get Eric�s attention. Eric heard him and looked over his shoulder. �Hey man,� he said, turning around quickly. He knew that Steve was going to question him, and he wasn�t in the mood for a game of twenty questions. �Hey,� Steve replied. As soon as they got to the dressing room, Steve decided to cut to the point just as Eric was sitting down on the bench, removing his helmet and shaking out his hair. �So you didn�t tell anyone that you remember my sister?� Eric hesitated before answering. �No, I didn�t,� he said, looking from the floor to Steve. �Does she even remember me?� he asked. Steve snorted. �Of course she does,� he said, sitting down on a bench in front of Eric. �You have no idea� She cried for about a week after that game, you know.� Eric was genuinely surprised. �She did?� Steve laughed. �Of course she did. You were her best friend. Why else do you think she moved to Anaheim with me when she was seventeen?� �That was five years later,� Eric argued, not getting Steve�s point. �Yeah, it was. But she was still kinda hung up over it. She didn�t want to even be in the same city as you anymore, that�s why she conned our parents into letting her move with me.� Steve paused while Eric took in what he had just said. �She missed you, you know.� �She did?� �Yeah.� Steve stood up, and walked toward the door. Someone was sure to come looking for him sooner or later, and he intended on beating whoever it was to the punch. �She missed you up until about last year, when she started dating the idiot she calls her ex-boyfriend. Hell, even then, I�m sure she still missed you.� Eric frowned as Steve walked out of the room. �And just between us, I think she still does miss you,� Steve called over his shoulder as he was walking down the hallway. Eric took his time shedding his equipment and clothes; he intended on jumping in the spa for a few minutes to relax his sore muscles before he went home to change and meet his teammates at Brews Brothers. He threw on a pair of shorts and grabbed a towel before heading to the room where the spa was kept. As he was walking down the hall toward the spa, he noticed Steve walking toward him. �Do you miss her?� he asked, just as Eric put his hand on the door knob. Eric opened the door halfway. He heard the spa going, but completely dismissed it; one of the guys must have been in there and forgot to turn it off, as usual. Eric paused for a moment, before saying, �Yeah, I do miss her.� He opened the door, not giving Steve a chance to reply, and turned to walk in the room. He froze when he saw who was occupying the spa. �Who do you miss?� Brielle asked, her face not displaying any clear emotion. Eric stood frozen in his spot, wondering what to say. He knew that Brielle knew the answer, and he couldn�t figure out why he was still hiding everything. �Who?� Brielle repeated, immediately biting the corner of her bottom lip after her question. She had done this since she was eleven; it was a sign that she was about to cry unless she was told the truth. Throwing caution to the wind, Eric forced his arm to shut the door and forced his feet to move him across the room, sitting down on the side of the spa. �You,� he said, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat and looked Brielle in the eye. �I�m done playing around. Elle, why are we fighting so much?� Brielle was blinking back tears at this point. �You and Steve are the only ones who call me Elle,� she said, staring at her reflection in the water. She looked up to Eric. �I don�t know why we�re fighting so much.� �Elle, I�m sorry about that game�� �We were just kids, it was stupid�� �But I still shouldn�t have said those things�� �I shouldn�t have said that thing about the NHL�� Brielle and Eric stopped talking at the same time. �Are we friends again?� Eric asked. Brielle smiled. �Yeah, I think we are.� Eric grinned. �Good.� He paused while Brielle smiled. �Can I still call you short?� �No!� Brielle said, laughing. �I�m not that much shorter than you are.� �Yes you are, you�re like five inches shorter than I am.� Brielle snorted. �Yeah, in skates, maybe.� She laughed while Eric stuck his tongue out at her. �Did you wanna get in here?� she asked, finally noticing that Eric was wearing shorts and held a towel. �Yeah, but I�ll just get changed, I don�t-� �Meloche, you know very well that there�s enough room for two in here,� Brielle said, rolling her eyes. �Wouldn�t Army mind?� Eric asked, raising an eyebrow. �Why?� Brielle asked. �We�re not doing anything, just get in the damn spa.� �If you insist,� Eric said, dropping the towel and stepping into the spa to sit opposite Brielle. |
 |
|
|
|