Page 128 of Hockey Boy
“I can’t wait to marry you,” I whisper against her mouth.
Hers tips up in a smile. “You catching feelings for me, Hockey Boy?”
I bite her lip and murmur, “Something like that.”
Ten minutes in, it’s clear that this is going to be a bad night. First off, her parents have gone with a black and silver color scheme. Not even remotely Lennox’s style.
Second, Ryder and his band are set up on the stage. It appears Jackson Kennedy will stop at nothing to push that man on his daughter, even two days before her wedding.
Ruthless.
My blood heats, and I break into a sweat as I work to tamp down the pressure building inside me.
When Sara appears out of nowhere, screaming “Bitch, it’s almost your birthday,” I guide Lennox toward her best friend, grateful to have a few minutes to stew without ruining Lennox’s night.
“Ready for tomorrow?” Brooks asks as the girls disappear into a throng on the dance floor.
The happiness radiating off her helps ease the pounding of my heart.
Tomorrow, we play New York for the first time since my fight with Vincent Lukov. He didn’t end up with a breathing tube like I’d have liked, so he’s slated to play. That means there’ll be drama. It’s all he knows. After our last altercation, one would think that rather than professionalathletes paid to win a game, we’re Roman fighters meant to fight to the death.
I’d win. There’s no question.
Without taking my eyes off Lennox, I promise, “I’ll be fine.”
“That’s not what I was asking.”
Irritation runs up my spine. How the hell is he so calm all the time? The Lukovs didn’t just fuck with me. Our uncle fucked with him too.
“I could ask you the same thing.” I turn and study his reaction. I want him to get angry. For his heart to beat wildly out of his chest like mine does.
Am I really the only one of us Langfields who has to live with these overwhelming swells of emotion?
Sure, my brothers have snapped before. But in general, they remain steady under pressure. I, on the other hand, handle it by getting loud. By singing. Anything that keeps me from having to feel the buzzing within my body that makes me want to jump out of my own skin.
Brooks turns his attention to the dance floor. “If he lays a hand on you, then yeah, I’ll be ready.”
My throat gets tight. I was not expecting that kind of response. “I can fight my own battles.”
He squeezes my shoulder. “But you shouldn’t have to. Your future father-in-law is headed our way, though, so tell me—you fighting this one on your own, or am I sticking by your side?”
I flex my hands, then button my jacket, feigning cool even as my heart takes off again. “I’m good.”
With a terse nod, Brooks heads to the bar where our brothers and their wives have congregated.
On the dance floor, Lennox is laughing and smiling with Hannah, Sara, and Ava. It eases my mind a little to know she’s having a good time. I can handle her asshole father, so long as she’s smiling.
As he approaches, I turn my attention to him. His blondish hair is slicked back, and his black tuxedo is impeccable. Everything about him screams money and misery.
The complete opposite of his daughter.
“Enjoying yourself?” he mumbles, rather than giving me a true greeting.
“Of course. My fiancée is smiling. That’s all I need.”
With a grunt, he shoves his hands into his pockets. “She won’t be your fiancée for long.”
I can’t help but smirk. “True. Soon, she’ll be my wife.” I pull at the sleeve of my tuxedo jacket, exposing the face of my Rolex. It’s Bolts blue, of course. Langfield Blue, as Beckett likes to call it. “In approximately thirty-six hours.”