Page 53 of Her Player

The crowd went wild, stomping their feet against the stand and twirling noise makers into the air. One by one, we were introduced with the guys skating out onto the rink and shredding their blades against the ice. It didn’t shock me one bit when Jett made his way over there and shirked his blades against the ice so much that it sprayed onto their center.

The man looked pissed as hell, too.

Good.

I wanted them all in their feels for this game.

It would be the only tactical advantage we had before getting on the ice.

“AND NOW, FOR YOUR CAPTAIN! YOUR CENTER! THE HUB OF THE TEAM THAT KEEPS THE SPOKES TOGETHER! GIVE IT UP FOR…. RHEEEEEETT ‘STONE’ CALLOWAAAAAY!”

Fire engulfed the entrance as I shot out onto the ice. Heat battered my shoulders and helmet, but the cool of the ice at my ankles pushed me onward. I broke through the tunnel of flames with a crowd welcoming me with noise makers, fog horns, and whistleblowing. I took a skate around the rink forward before reversing and doing it backward, waving to everyone that I could in the stands.

I even raised my eyes to find Victoria in her VIP box, perched on high and gazing down at Caldwell Arena. Even though she couldn’t see it through my helmet, I flashed her a smile. I resisted the urge to point at her. Not just because I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to acknowledge her in public like that, but because a man pointing at a woman from the ice was a man who needed everyone else to know what he had. I knew what I had. She knew what I had. That was enough. Twenty seconds of eye contact under a Jumbotron didn’t make me her man any more than scoring the next goal would. I was already her man. Had been for three years. The pointing was for guys who needed to convince themselves.

Get your head in the game, Rhett. Later.

The first period was a blur. Tracking their center proved difficult. He was quick on his feet, even quicker with his puck, and his footwork alone could’ve rivaled the professionals. Clearly he had his sights aimed for something like that, because by the time the first period was over, they were already ahead of us, one to zilch.

Then we got to the second period.

Jett and I passed the puck back and forth, utilizing one of our fake-out techniques to even out the score. The buzzer for their goal sounded, kicking off the red-light alarm on the back of every goal. The crowd leapt to their feet. People screamed so hard that I heard them shrieking. I pointed my finger toward the crowd as Jett held his stick up into the air, pumping it as if you’d pump a fist.

Their fucking center came around, shearing fresh ice right in his path sending Jett tumbling to the ground.

“Hey!” Coach bellowed as he threw an immediate flag on the play onto the ice. “You better keep your boys off mine! This is a game! Not a back-alley match!”

I watched one of the black-and-white striped officials on the ice shoot Coach a look. Without thinking, I pulled Jett to his feet and made a beeline for Coach. I stood in front of him, blocking him with my mountainous form as his face grew with frustrated anger.

“Coach,” I said through my mask.

He drew in a solid breath before shaking his head. “I want you to keep an eye out for⁠—”

“Let’s run the play.”

He paused. “What?”

“The play you had me and Jett drilling for the last few weeks. Let’s see if we can’t pull it off.”

Coach tilted his head as one of the officials called a minor penalty on the opposing team. The crowd cheered, a few booed, and just like that, we had a one-upped advantage on the ice.

Coach nodded. “Keep it low and tight.”

I grinned. “With pleasure, Coach.”

I pushed off and away from Coach, racing toward Jett as we all got back into formation on the ice. I looked over at him and nodded my head before I shook it twice, a little code between us to let him know that we were attempting the play. Now, Jett and I didn’t always pull this off. But if we could, it would not only put us up a point, but it would communicate to these Pirates that we weren’t here to play around.

No matter how much they fucked with us.

The puck dropped. Sticks clattered. Blades pushed off the ice, and all of a sudden, the roar of the crowd faded away. No longer was the Jumbotron buzzing above my head. No longer was the announcer’s voice booming in my ears. It was just me, the ice, that puck, and Jett in my peripheral.

I bared a hard left, wrapping around a couple of Pirates coming at me. Moose skated from side to side, his shadow moving across the ice as I wrapped back around toward him. I gave Jett a second to line himself up. I led the Pirates all the way around the fucking rink, just to tire them out a bit. And when Jett was in place, I acted like I slapped the puck in his direction.

I quickly whipped it back through my feet.

Langley came up behind me and captured the puck. While Jett chirped at the players, antagonizing them as they went after him, I watched as Langley pulled away from the crowd. At first, the crowd booed as the Pirates gained steam on Jett. And then, Jett came to a grinding halt.

One of the Pirates attempted to steal the puck from him.