Page 51

I watch from my crease as Roysy skates off the ice to a round of boos from the Demons’ disgruntled fans. With less than a minute left to play, he may as well start his night getting out of his gear and hitting the showers in the locker room while serving his penalty.

Finally, the refs pull the game back together and everyone gets ready for the next faceoff. They’re at the dot to my right. I get locked into my stance, my eyes on the dot so I can begin tracking the puck the moment it hits the ice.

With only a few seconds of play left to go, I’m ready to put this game to bed. And with tempers already boiling over, I hope my teammates are smart enough to get possession of the puck and run out the clock instead of trying to score another goal. There’s no need. The Demons aren’t catching up.

Thankfully, we win the faceoff, and Gauthier skates the puck out of the zone. No one bothers to follow him and the remainder of the Demons left on the ice start making their way towards their bench.

I stay in my net until the horn blares signaling the end of the game. But even then, I don’t make it all the way to the bench as it is tradition for all my teammates to come give me some head taps, fist bumps, and hugs before we leave the ice.

Rule one of hockey. Always remember to thank your goalie.

“Good fucking game,” Brandon says. He’s the first to arrive and he taps his glove against mine. He’s too short to give me a head tap with his helmet.

Ryan can do it though, which he does as he says, “Looks like that not-date last night gave you a boost.”

“I am not the one who gets boost from not-date,” I say quietly, hoping no one else in the line can hear.

“Keep telling yourself that.” Ryan smirks, pats me on the shoulder, then skates away.

“Keep telling yourself what?” Danton asks when he reaches me next.

“Nothing. Ryan is just being mischievous.”

Danton nods his head. “He does that sometimes,” he says, then gives me a hug with three pats on my back.

“You went on a date?” O’Shea asks, his lips in a pout. “Without me?”

“No date,” I say. “But if there was, yes, I would go without you.”

“That’s kind of how dates work,” Clemmers says, pushing O’Shea out of the way so he can tap his helmet against mine. “Good for you, Ivanov. It’s about time you found yourself a girl.”

My cheeks heat up and I can’t tell if it’s because he thinks I was out with a girl, or if it’s because I wasn’t out with a girl at all, but instead Ander Bouchard. Would he be this supportive if he knew the truth?

I already know they wouldn’t care if I told them I was attracted to men. They’ve proven it with their support of Brandon and Ryan. But I highly doubt that support extends to the man I have my eyes and my heart set on. It’s possible they would see it as a betrayal after we lost the cup to his team last season. Team loyalty is more consequential.

Ander

It’s been so long since the media has wanted to praise me for anything I almost forgot what it was like. But right now, after that shutout victory, I am excited to finally have something good to talk to the reporters about post-game.

I’m also dying to get this over with because I haven’t had a chance yet to see if Nikolai had a good game too. I’m dying to talk to him. He, unlike these reporters, will understand exactly how relieved I’m feeling right now.

“Ander, tonight was your first shutout this season,” the reporter says. “Historically you’ve had two or three by now. How do you explain the slow start you’ve been off to?”

“It’s hard to say,” I say as I wipe the sweat off my forehead with a team towel. I’m still in my full gear, standing just off ice. I can’t wait to get in the locker room and undress. I’m sweating my ass off under the weight of all these pads. “I mean, we’ve played a lot of hockey over the past two seasons, having gone to the finals twice in a row, plus the Olympics. I guess it just took me some time to get back into the groove this season.”

“Now that you’ve shut the door, are you anticipating being able to keep it closed?” she asks.

I wipe the back of my neck. “I can’t get a shutout every game. But I do think that now I’ve put together a few good games and stopped our skid, I can keep it up and play to the standard I expect for myself.”

“Playing goalie is a hard mental game. Do you think your slow start has affected your ability to stay centered and calm out there?”

“It would be a lie to say that it didn’t. But I’ve had some help refocusing.”

Even though I’m red-faced and already sweating, I can feel my cheeks flush at the thought of Nikolai and all the ways he’s been helping me. I bet he doesn’t even realize that’s what he’s been doing, but I have no one else to thank bar him. He listens to me. He keeps me calm. Hell, even the way he touches me when we’re in person; it’s like I can still feel his knees against mine, or his palm resting on my arm.

I rub my forearm now just thinking about it.

“Interesting,” she says. “Can you give us any insight as to who has been helping you through this? Another teammate or coach?”