Wanting The Winger

WANTING THE WINGER JACOB CHANCE Copyright © 2023 by Jacob Chance All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. This novel is a work of fiction. While reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to people either living or deceased, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental and not intended by the author. Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are only used for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Cover design by Black Widow Designs Edited and Proofread by Ink Machine Editing This book contains mature content. DEDICATION If you know me, you know this dedication is long overdue… To bacon for providing me with energy, inspiration, and moral support through every book I’ve written. I can’t wait for our next collaboration. CONTENTS 1. Darius 2. Evie 3. Evie 4. Darius 5. Darius 6. Evie 7. Evie 8. Darius 9. Evie 10. Evie 11. Darius 12. Darius 13. Evie 14. Darius 15. Evie 16. Darius 17. Evie 18. Darius 19. Evie 20. Darius 21. Evie 22. Darius 23. Evie Epilogue Changing The Player Prologue Chapter One Acknowledgments About the Author CHAPTER 1 DARIUS Adrenaline coursing through every muscle in my body, I race for the puck speeding across the ice. My stick barely makes contact when a player from the opposing team leans in with his shoulder and body checks me into the boards. I don’t have time to think about the pain caused by the bone-rattling hit as the two of us fight for control of the puck. Hockey sticks and skates crash together as we lock up. My helmet bangs off the plexiglass as we battle for the small black disc as though we’re fighting for our lives. I finally manage to knock it free and shake off my opponent, but he’s close as I race toward the goal. I pass the puck off to my teammate Kaiden. He fires at the net with no hesitation and the power of a small cannon, all the while making it look effortless. The crowd shouts, jumping from their seats, as the goal lamp lights and Kaiden raises his stick in the air. Skating over, I wrap an arm around his neck. “Great shot.” “Hey, you set it up perfectly for me.” He’s quick to share the credit. With only five seconds left on the game clock and our team up by two, it’s safe to say we’re walking away with a win. When the clock hits zero, my teammates and I celebrate briefly before we head to the locker room. * * * “Great game, boys,” Coach Carling calls out, gaining our attention inside our team’s locker room. “It was a solid win and you all played hard. Take tonight to soak in this victory and then we’re moving on to the next game.” The entire team choruses the second half of the sentence along with him. A man of few words, our coach says the same thing after every win, so it’s not a surprise. The only time his speech changes is if we lose, and when that happens, there isn’t a single one of us who isn’t affected by the disapproval in his tone or gaze. He may not say much, but he commands a deep respect from his players. We go to battle on every sheet of ice for him as much as we do for ourselves and our teammates. “Coyotes, how do we feel about our win?” Kaiden, who is our team captain, asks. The entire team choruses back, “Ooooh, yeah!” We all disperse, moving to the edges of the familiar space, revealing a giant white Charleston Coyotes logo in the center of the black matted floor. My teammates begin to take off their skates and gear. I sit down next to Kaiden on the built-in wooden bench that wraps around three sides of the large room. “That last goal was a thing of beauty.” I slap him on the back. “Thanks,” he replies. “But like I said before, you’re the one who set it up for me.” “You both played a part,” Ryder, another of our teammates, agrees from next to me. “It sure feels great to get the win against the Thunder. I fucking hate that team.” I nod. “Yeah, me too. Talk about a bunch of dirty players.” “The refs have selective sight when it comes to them,” Kaiden adds. “I don’t get it. We can’t get away with half of what they do. What are we doing wrong?” Ryder asks as his fingers rapidly unlace each skate. “Our record is better than theirs, so I guess we’re doing some things right,” I say, tugging my sweat-soaked jersey over my head. “We just need to focus on ourselves and keep the level of our play up. That’s all we can control. If we play our best, we’re unbeatable,” Kaiden reminds us. He has a way of focusing on what matters, which is why he’s the leader of our team. I finish removing my gear and skates and take a quick shower. Once I’ve dried off and am dressed, I head to meet my parents, as I do after every home game. The room where they wait is designated for our team’s family and friends and, as always, it’s filled to capacity. My mom holds her arms out to me. “Agóri mou.” My boy. I’m twenty-six years old and she still calls me that. “Mom.” I wrap her in my arms and squeeze. And