Cross blades, p.1
Cross Blades, page 1
Cross Blades
MM Hockey Romance
J.M. Jackie
Copyright © March 30th, 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, 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 City
2. Puck Drop and Chemistry Sparks
3. The Rivalry Begins
4. Hat Trick of Surprises
5. Penalty for Love
6. Locker Room Secrets
7. Skating on Thin Ice
8. In the Spotlight
9. Power Play Passion
10. Breakaway Hearts
11. The Coach's Dilemma
12. Face to Face with Destiny
13. Double Overtime
14. A Night in the Penalty Box
15. All-Star Allure
16. The Road Trip of Love
17. On Thin Ice
18. Offside Confessions
19. Shootout for the Heart
20. A Home Game for Two
21. Love in the Time of Playoffs
22. Rebound and Redemption
23. Hat Trick of Emotions
Other Works
Author’s Note
1
Faceoff in the City
Evans Mulroney
Detroit Michigan 2013
Do or do not, there is no try . Yoda’s voice rang in my ear, and I forced another smile as a horde of people came flying at me. Meet my parents, she said. It’ll be fun, she said. Yeah, right.
Now, I was drenched in sweat at an extravagant Indian wedding, desperately trying not to forget the names of the endless stream of people she kept introducing me to. The air pulsed with the electrifying beats of Bollywood music, wrapping around the room in a vibrant, intoxicating melody.
I found myself engulfed in a sea of colorful saris, caught in the whirlwind of streamers hanging from the ceiling. On the dancefloor, bodies moved in sync with the rhythm, a kaleidoscope of twirling colors and infectious energy. Amidst the crowd, I even spotted Zara’s grandmother, hips gyrating with wild abandon.
For an outsider, the experience was overwhelming. But the sight of Zara, her face illuminated with sheer joy, her hazel eyes glistening with laughter as she danced with her cousins, made it all worthwhile. A playful hand slithered over my shoulder, and I recognized Zara’s younger brother, Harpreet.
“Come on, white boy, let’s see what you can do!” he called out, shimmying his shoulders and twisting his wrists in invitation. I laughed and shrugged before following him onto the dancefloor and busting out my white boy moves, amusing everyone around me. Damn, this was fun. The atmosphere was infectious, and I found myself swept up in the moment. Zara’s mother, Jasmeet, pulled me into a dance beside her, and we started really tearing it up, unleashing a whirlwind of moves, a fusion of traditional steps and modern grooves.
Sweat clung to my skin as I lost myself in the music, the pulsating beats guiding my footsteps. The room was a blur of flashing lights, the rhythm of the music syncing with my heartbeat. I had so much to drink that, by the end, I didn’t even know whose wedding it was anymore.
“Having fun?” Zara bounced into my arms; her tiny frame dwarfed by my sheer size. “You should have called me over!”
I laughed, encircling her narrow waist and kissing her on the lips. Zara shied away because her parents were nearby, but her eyes sparked, instantly making my cock harden in my slacks. “Yeah, you’re here now,” I replied, trying not to fist the fabric of Zara’s bright green sari. It flowed like a cascade of emerald water, rippling with every step she took, as if it were a vibrant river winding its way through a lush forest.
“Tease.” She shoved at my chest. Then she was off with her cousins again, disappearing like a flash of color amidst a sea of flowers.
“Another drink?” Harpreet spoke, already pouring what was left of a bottle of champagne into a flute. “Last call.”
“You said that five hours ago!” I laughed, shaking my head, when he offered it to me. “I’m so drunk, I think I’m going to puke.”
“Puke over there then. This carpet is worth more than your life,” Harpreet said, draining the flute in one go. “Damn, that’s the good stuff!”
I raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Wow, Harpreet, I thought we were friends. Threatening my life over a carpet? That’s just cold.”
“Oh, I’m your friend, alright. Your friend who appreciates the value of a good carpet,” he replied, pointing to the luxurious floor covering beneath our feet.
“Fine. No puking on the carpet,” I said, trying to sound serious but failing as another fit of laughter escaped me. “But seriously, I think I’ve had enough to drink. My legs feel like jelly, and I’m pretty sure I forgot my own name a few minutes ago.”
Harpreet clapped me on the back, nearly causing me to stumble. “Nonsense! The night is young, my friend! Besides, you haven’t truly experienced an Indian wedding until you’ve danced until your legs turn to jelly and you can’t remember your own name. It’s a rite of passage.”
“Nah, I think I need some fresh air,” I said, feeling like the floor was unsteady beneath my feet.
“I’ll come with you,” Harpreet replied, and together we walked outside into the crisp, wintry air. As we stepped out of the sprawling wedding hall, the wintry breeze slapped against my face, awakening my senses. Away from the chaos, the night was wrapped in a quiet, serene ambiance, the darkness broken only by the warm glow of scattered lamps.
It felt like stepping into a snow globe. The air was crisp and pure, carrying a faint scent of alluring spices that hung tantalizingly around us. Harpreet took out a package of cigarettes, his cropped black hair swaying in the wind, and his green kurta pajama bright against the night.
“I’ll quit tomorrow, I promise,” he said, almost defensively, knowing well that the promise was as fragile as smoke dissipating in the wind.
I laughed at his feigned optimism, though I declined his offer of a cigarette.
“So, have you decided yet? Word on the streets is you're ready to go pro,” his voice carrying a hint of curiosity beneath the winter night’s quiet. The question hung in the air, as loaded as the scent of spices. Clearing my throat, I thought back to what had happened earlier with Zara’s father. We’ve only been dating for a few months, things weren’t serious at all, but it seemed to Zara and her family that they were, and by the end of dinner, I felt like they were all waiting for me to decide what would happen to our relationship if I went pro for the NHL.
A decision I had no fucking clue how to make. “Ah, well—I’m not sure. Zara’s great. Everything is great. I’m not sure what else there is to say. Once I’m done with school, we’ll see where it goes.”
“But you’ll be graduating next year,” Harpreet pressed on with an annoying smirk. “My friend, one thing you should know is that Zara isn’t someone who will wait around. Trust me. If you aren’t serious, she’ll be gone with the wind.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I laughed, but it felt hollow. Zara and I hadn’t even really talked about what was going to happen next...
“Alright,” Harpreet said, flicking his cigarette away. “Your funeral. I’ll see you inside.”
Watching him disappear into the building, I sagged against the brick wall, silently wishing the night would end. I was dead tired, and I still had to drop Zara off at her dorm room before heading back to my own. Taking out my phone, I scrolled through the text messages before pausing on Alex’s name.
The last message I sent was left on read, as were several others I sent during the week. Sighing through my nose, I tapped out another text to my best friend, hoping he’d have the decency to respond this time.
What are you up to? I texted and pressed send, the pang in my chest spreading.
Ever since Zara and I started dating four months ago, I've noticed his entire attitude has changed. He withdrew and kept to himself most days, which wouldn’t be unusual except I kept getting the feeling he was trying to shut me out. Scrolling through my emails, I landed on the last one I received from a scout at the game a few nights ago.
Fuck, that shit was crazy. Jayden had played his fucking heart out, Grayson too, and it literally put our team on the fucking map. I heard Jayden and Grayson had been scooped up and soon they’d have their pick of going directly pro.
It was unreal to think back to where we started, to where we were now. Skimming over the email, my heart raced with anticipation. Several scouts had expressed interest in me, not too surprising considering I was in the NCAA Division I at the University of Michigan. Coach was highly optimistic about my potential to go pro and join one of the AHL (American Hockey League) teams, with the Grand Rapids Griffins being the closest option. However, I understood that this was all speculative. My future depended on the choices I made and the opportunities I would receive. It was possible that I might even get drafted directly into the NHL like Jayden and Grayson, but that decision was still to be made.
I went back to my message to Alex and saw that it was read. Bastard. I thought, slipping my phone back into my pocket. If he doesn’t want to talk, why not just say so?
But why do I feel like things are different this time?
“Hey!” Zara’s voice startled me out of my thoughts. “I was looking for you,” she said, walking over to me. The bright green sari Zara wore seemed to have a life of its own, twirling and twining like a vibrant emerald serpent, accentuating her every movement. Shit, I must be drunker than I thought. Black eyeliner made her hazel eyes look smoky as she wrapped her arms around my neck. “Come back inside. They’re about to cut the cake.”
“Babe, I’ve got to go. I have practice at five am tomorrow,” I responded and kissed her pout. “I’ll make it up to you later, I promise.”
“No,” she whined, pressing up against me. I felt her perky breasts beneath the fine fabric of her dress, and my cock thickened. Zara always knew how to get me going. Licking my dry lips, I leaned closer to her, hands braced against her waist.
“Yeah? What are you going to do to make me stay?” I said, my voice husky.
Her eyes flashed with wicked delight, and her mouth curled into a smile. Looking left and then right, Zara tugged my hand and led me to the back of the wedding convention center, where the lights were dim. She shoved me against the wall and then, descending upon me, captured my lips in a heated kiss that got me hard in seconds. I groaned. My large hand came up to her breasts, kneading the fabric as her mounds filled my palms. “Fuck,” I hissed, and our lips met with a renewed urgency.
The scent of her perfume made me go dizzy with desire. I could taste our shared breath, and feel the thud of our combined desire as I pulled back to attack her beautiful, long neck. Zara’s skin was bronze, washed into the golden light of the street lamps as I sucked on a spot along her collarbone. Groping blindly, I kissed the top swell of her breasts, nuzzling my face deeper, wishing like hell I could tear this off and take her brown pebbled nipple into my mouth.
“Shit—I want you to fuck me, baby,” she whispered. “You looked so fucking hot tonight. Who knew white boys looked amazing in kurta pajamas?”
I laughed breathlessly and fisted her long hair. Zara’s lips were flushed red, and her eyes were vibrant, pulsating hazel that made her heart stop. God, she is breathtaking. “I knew it. You are only with me to get into my pants.”
She giggled. “You caught me. Now take them off Evans before I lose my patience.”
I love it when she gets bossy. It’s so fucking hot. Growling low in my throat, I kissed her again. Her lips were soft, almost silken, and pillowy against my own. I could feel the soft tickle of her breath beneath my nose, my fingers carding through her hair as we breathed each other in. Fuck, I was ready to go, and if Zara didn’t find a secluded place for us, I’d take her right here and now.
“Aheem,” a voice cleared their throat, and we jumped apart. Harpreet stood there with his arms crossed and his foot tapping.
“Shit!” Zara cursed, righting her sari. “What are you doing watching us, you creep?”
“Mom’s looking for you,” Harpreet said, his eyes narrowing into pinpricks. “You’ve got roughly ten seconds to get in there before Harleen pops a blood vessel in her head over one of her bridesmaids going MIA.”
“Crap,” Zara sighed and turned to me. “Call me when you get home. And don’t drive drunk. I called your sister to come get you, and she should be here soon.”
Disappointment panged through me. “You don’t want me to stop by your dorm?”
Zara’s mouth kinked. “Not tonight, baby. This won’t be ending until the wee hours and you’ve got practice tomorrow. Text me when you get in. We’ll talk soon, I promise.” She sealed it with a kiss and then flounced off with Harpreet in tow.
Damn. My cock was pulsating in my slacks and I sighed, knowing it was probably going to be another night with just my hand. Checking the time on my phone, I realized I had one missed call from my sister and a text saying she was waiting in the parking lot. That was quick.
Zara was always thinking ahead, and it was one reason why I liked her so much. She knew I had practice tomorrow, and that hockey was important to me, and she even made arrangements for me to get home safely. If that wasn’t the perfect girlfriend, then I didn’t know what was. Striding towards the front entrance, I saw Kateryna’s sleek black BMW in the parking lot, her high beams flashing as if trying to tell me to hurry the fuck up. Rolling my eyes, I walked over to the car, my long legs eating up the distance between us. I unlocked the door and got in, my nose wrinkling at the obnoxious floral spray of perfume Kateryna seemed to bathe her car in.
“What’s up, loser?” Kateryna said by way of greeting, her bright blue eyes turning to me. “So, just how drunk are you that you had your girlfriend texting me to pick you up instead of an Uber driver?”
“Not drunk enough,” I muttered and then leaned back in the seat. “Just drop me off at the frat house. I’ve got practice tomorrow, pumpkinhead.”
“This is the thanks I get for driving your drunk ass home,” Kateryna muttered, using one hand to tug on her messy blond updo. “You’re lucky I had practice in the area or else you’d be walking home.”
Ah, siblings. Can’t live with them and can’t live without them. “Shut up. Your voice is making my head hurt.”
Kateryna scowled at me but kept her eyes on the road. “I have no idea what she sees in you, anyway. Zara is way out of your league.”
I yawned, ignoring her. Kateryna could be grumpy when it was past her bedtime. I knew she was doing me a solid favor by not forcing me to take an Uber. “So, how was practice?”
Her face lit up immediately. Kateryna also played for Michigan University but on the women’s junior hockey team. “Well,” she began, stretching the word out for effect, “practice was pretty good. I finally nailed that slapshot I've been working on. Top right corner, no goalie in the world could've stopped it!”
“Impressive. But let's not forget who taught you that move.”
Kateryna scowled, hating the reminder that she used to follow me everywhere and beg me to teach her how to play hockey. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. But can you dangle through defensemen like I can?”
I snorted a laugh. “Dangle through defensemen? You might need a GPS to find your way around them. Remember that time you got stuck behind the net for five minutes?”
Kateryna rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up. That was just a strategic pause to let you catch your breath. I didn't want to embarrass you.”
I chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Strategic pause? More like a scenic route to nowhere. And speaking of embarrassing, you still owe me for that last shootout. My five-hole goal had you seeing stars.”
“Beginner's luck, dear brother. Let's see if you can repeat it when it counts.”
“Remember that time you mistook the referee for a teammate and passed him the puck?” I teased. “That shit was fucking gold.”
“Why don’t you stick your head up your ass and see how far you get?” Kateryna shot back.
“Ouch,” I said, feigning hurt. “Touchy.”
“At least I don't mix up my teammates during line changes. You practically handed the opponent the puck on a silver platter.”
I laughed and pinched her chubby cheek. Kateryna slapped my hand away and before I could blink, she was pulling up to my house on campus. Stretching my limbs, I yawned again and cracked my neck. “See you later, pumpkinhead. I won’t tip you because your Uber services were horrible. One star rating for sure.”
“Shut up and get out,” Kateryna laughed, pushing my arm. I kissed her cheek. “Night, bro.”
“Thanks. Drive safe,” I said as I climbed out of the vehicle.
Watching her pull away from the curb, I shivered against the cold. I’d forgotten my coat at the wedding, far too drunk to remember to bring it. Instead, I hugged my arms to my chest as I turned and walked back to the frat house. The night deepened, and a profound silence blanketed everything as I walked up the stone steps into the house. Everyone was asleep and the world outside hushed to a whisper, with only occasional rustlings breaking the stillness. Opening my bedroom door, I tugged off my shirt and tossed it aside, then my slacks and loafer shoes. I’d have the clothes dry-cleaned tomorrow. I flopped on the bed face first, a wave of dizziness coming over me before sleep yanked me under.
