Leo and Remy both noticed; their heads kept turning to watch when we heard the commotion. One of the guys had shoved Callie, and I wasn't standing for that.
I took the end of my stick and hit it against the boards, scowling at the guy. He looked up, stunned, holding his hands up, and then flipped me off. Well played. What he didn't see was the security guard behind him.
That game was horrible. Not only were the fans distracting us, but we played poorly and for no reason. It was the start of the playoffs and we weren't starting off good.
Granger, a player known for his aggression and dirty hits, had it out for Leo all night. He finally got him near Nashville's goal. It was a chip shot right at the crease and knocked Leo out cold. Remy and I both went after Granger for that one.
That wasn't the way we wanted to start off the series, and every guy on that team understood that. We had something to prove, and goddamn it if we weren't going to prove it.
To try and ease our frustrations about the loss we headed to the bar.
"Hey, man," Remy nudged me. "Pay attention." I looked over to the group in the back. They were standing around a high top table listening to their left wing, Trey Swartz, tell a joke when Ami walked by from having used the bathroom. They must have made a few crude remarks because she raised her hand to flip Trey off and then spun around, making her way back over to us. Her scowl told me she wasn't pleased, and fuck if I wasn't livid instantly.
If he touched her, I would fucking kill him. That was just who I was at that point. They still hadn't found the guy, and every time someone looked at her, I wondered. When I'd been drinking, that wondering twisted on me and I was ready to defend her.
Hockey players were notorious for bar fights. It seemed the aggression on the ice had a tendency to carry over. I wasn't an exception, but I liked to start them, and then everyone else got involved.
If you were to get five hockey players in a bar and then they started talking shit—that was a pretty potent combination if you asked me. Get two rival teams in a bar, and you were asking for trouble.
Here was the thing: people liked to shove each other and acted like all around dicks in the bar. Some chose to ignore it, some didn't.
If you did that shit around a hockey player, we were going to turn around and lay you out. We didn't give a fuck.
I'd been in my fair share of bar fights, even before I was twenty-one, but I I'd been with Ami since I'd turned of age and didn't want to be away from her. Now here we were, inside a bar, and the guys were being dicks.
I was by no means a badass, and more times than not my mouth got me into situations my fists couldn't get me out of. I was a skilled fighter when I needed to be, but there were several times I had my ass handed to me. I liked to think I could hold my own with Trey.
I caught Trey's stare when Ami came back over to us, and he knew what he'd done. His eyes stopped on me, lighting up with surprise that maybe he'd pissed on my territory. He fucking lived for shit like that.
He nodded, gestured with a tip of his head to Ami and then winked.
I didn't know what made him think we wanted him to come over to us, but he did and started to make conversation, conversation I wanted nothing to do with. I shoved him, letting him know, physically, he wasn't welcome on this side of the bar.
Catching himself against the table, two of his teammates were beside him. He looked at me, bent that I'd killed his chance to score. What he didn't realize was his chance to score belonged to me.
"What's your fucking problem?"
"My fucking problem is you." I gave him a threatening smile. "Get lost."
"Hey, man, I'm not looking for anything special. Just a quick introduction to the twin cities," he said, looking to Ami again.
"I'll introduce you to twin cities all right," I snapped, Ami's eyes immediately shooting to mine. I could feel her staring at me, wondering where this was going to go.
"Relax, Mase," Trey drawled, his lips twisting into a smile. A look of defiance crossed his face. He turned to me, his back facing Ami. "She'll be back on your dick tomorrow. What's a little fun for one night?"
"Hey, fucker, think your team can win if you're in the hospital?" I taunted, getting in his face.
Ami was in my face then. "We should go." She sprang forward, latching onto me. "Please?" she pleaded in a soothing voice, reaching her hand up to cup my chin, trying to turn my head to make me look at her. Rather than fight against her, I backed off and nodded when Ami added, "He's an asshole and not worth it."
Wrapping my arms around her, in a protective manner that couldn't be denied, I pulled her away from Trey and his buddies, my hand resting on the small of her back.
Surprisingly enough, I wasn't the one that laid the fucker out. Remy was.
"Okay, hot shots," Callie teased merrily, a friendly grin on her face reminding me to take it easy. I let my guard down just a little, even if I was uncomfortable.