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The momentum continues throughout the second period, earning us two more goals—both scored by me—and the Wild stays at zero.
The third period starts with my line on the bench. But in no time, our shift is up, and we are back on the ice.
Kos kicks the puck over to me, and I barrel down the boards toward their open goal when I’m blindsided and knocked into the wall.
I fall down onto the ice, and the whistle is blown. The crowd gasps when I don’t get up right away, but I need a second. My boys skate over to me and assess me.
I lift my glove up, and Kos helps me up. I shake it off and get my head back in the game.
Coach glances my way, looking for an answer to the unasked question, Are you in or out?
I nod and line up for the drop. Looking over to the penalty box, I finally see who hit me—Owen Knox, number twenty-two.
Finding the one person I need to check on, I look at Nikki, who looks horrified and worried. I nod to her, and she nods back with a sad smile. I’ll be okay. I just need to finish this game with a win and maybe an ice bath tomorrow.
Knox is fucked when he comes back in. He is getting lit the fuck up.
The next two minutes fly by, and Knox drops onto the ice, right into the action. A mistake on his part.
The second he has the puck in his stick, Jensen lays him out on the ice. Knox bounces back up and throws his gloves. The second mistake he makes.
I think I could take Knox in a fight, but you know who he can’t take in a fight? Jensen fucking Donnelley.
He’s our enforcer. The biggest and strongest motherfucker out of all of us. He isn’t picked for fights; he picks the fights.
Jensen smiles and drops his gloves, which the refs kick out of the way.
Knox swings, and Jensen ducks before landing a punch on Knox’s jaw. Knox grabs Jensen’s jersey, and Jensen does the same to him, locking them at arm’s length. But Jensen yanks him forward and punches him straight in the nose. He throws one, two, three more times, connecting each one, before Knox falls down, and the fight is called. If he wanted a fair fight, Knox should have picked it with me.
The game ends in a victory for the Nighthawks, beating the Wild five to zero—a blowout. We all hustle in and out of the locker room, excited to celebrate at End Zone. But I’m more excited to get to Nikki.
I find her in the lobby, waiting for me with Chloe. When she sees me, she takes off for me, weaving between everyone else.
She throws her arms around me and cheers, “You won!”
She pulls away, and I lean down and kiss her. “That we did. I think you’re my lucky charm. You have to be at all of my games now.”
“Sure, if I lived here, I think we could arrange that. But that would be a lot of days to close the shop, and we can’t afford to do that,” she sighs.
“I know. I’ll take what I can get,” I say as Chloe walks over to us. “Come on. Drinks are on me.”
“I love the sound of that,” Chloe says with a smile. “Bill is picking us up at twelve for our flight; otherwise, we are free.”
“Perfect,” I say and throw my arm around Nikki’s shoulders as we walk outside.
I only have two hours left with her, and then she’s gone again. My heart constricts at the thought.
The same thought won’t leave my head the entire ride to End Zone.
As we walk inside the packed bar, Nikki asks me, “Is everything okay?”
Grabbing her hand, I rub the back of hers with my thumb. “I’m going to miss you.”
She smiles, and her eyes crease at the corners. “I’m going to miss you too, Cameron.”
We all make our way inside and wade through the sea of people to the bar to order our drinks. Nikki orders her vodka cran, and Chloe orders a negroni. Since I drove tonight, I just order a water.
The bartender makes our drinks at record speed. We grab them and turn to walk to our table when a familiar face stands in front of me with a mean scowl.
