In Sequence | H.S.

09.

Harry.

"I don't care. Let him enjoy her in the way she's meant to be enjoyed." In some ways, the man seemed familiar. His moppy blonde hair had a similar texture as mine, but his was hard to catch a real glimpse of his face from where I was sitting.

"And how's that?" Sarah questioned, shifting around in her seat to see if she could get a better glimpse of the guy.

"For one night, and one night only." I lean back against the booth, extending my arms over the backrest to show off my tattooed muscles to any puck bunny that might be loitering around.

"Aw, if you're embarrassed by how fast you finished, I'm sure Madelyn would love to help you build up your stamina." A smirk crept up her face, and Mitch laughed in support of his girlfriend.

"Fuck off." I roll my eyes and look back towards Madelyn. "If anyone needs to work on their stamina, it's-" My words fall short when I catch a full face glimpse of who Madelyn is with.

The muscles contract in my jaw as I immediately slap a name onto the face of the prick she's chatting it up with. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"Damn, this couldn't be any more unfortunate for you." Sarah gleams as she catches a glimpse of his face.

"First he steals your rank in the NHL's Top 100, and now he's stealing your girl." Mitch doesn't share my mural distaste for the guy given their history, but his eyes keep darting back and forth between me and Madelyn's new fling.

Preston Elliot. The most irritating douche bag to ever step foot onto an NHL ice rink. His ego is double mine with only a small percentage of actually impressive stats to support it. It's impressive he got as far as he did.

We've been fighting against each other on the NHL's Top 100 rank list for years, even back when he was still on my team. I've always been right above him. As his rank got higher, mine did too, always just one place higher than him.

Except with my fucking knee injury last season, I was out for almost half the season. When I played, I kicked ass, but with only half the stats to judge from, Preston finally surpassed me, ranking now just one place ahead of me. Bumped me from third place down to fourth.

If that wasn't motivation to get my ass in gear, I don't know what is. I've always been better at him, and I still am. He's just cruising by because of my knee, but once it's fully healed, I'll make sure that asshole gets knocked down a few more spots than just one.

We were actually friends a few years ago. Mitch kind of established our friendship in a way. He mentored Preston when he was back in Canada, and he was my mentor when I first joined the Bruins. We all got along pretty well, but teams change and so do people.

I wouldn't be caught dead calling him my friend again, and he's the last person who should be around Madelyn.

"She's not my girl." I clarify sharply, watching as his eyes wander down her figure a little too long. My blood is boiling and I can't decide if it's because I hate the asshole that's hitting on her or because I might actually give a fuck about her.

"She sure as hell won't be after tonight." Sarah chuckled. Something about her saying that lit the short fuse inside of me. Maybe it's just me selfishly not wanting the past to repeat itself.

I shot up to my feet, ignoring Mitch's calls behind me. I don't give a fuck about the people I'm bumping shoulders with as I stomp my way through the crowd of people chatting and playing pool. A few splashes of beer end up on my clothes as I knock into people walking away from the bar, the lingering smell is the least of my worries.

I'm in earshot of their conversation now, and Madelyn is giggling up a fucking storm.

He's not that funny, Mads.