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Hayes skates to center ice as Colby and Ford flank him at the red line. The puck gets dropped. Hayes battles the other team’s center for possession before passing the black disc to Ford, who takes off toward the other team’s goal like his ass is on fire. As soon as he crosses the blue line on the other side of the ice, two burly defensemen sweep their sticks in front of them, waiting for Ford to make a move. One rushes him while another protects their goal. Ford fakes one way before shooting it to Colby. When the defensemen swarm, Colby loses the puck. It gets passed up to an attackman who crosses the center line and makes a drive toward me.
I lower my center of gravity, sliding back and forth in front of the goal as I watch the play unfold. Maverick and Ryder are all over the attackman. When he turns, looking like he’ll pass off the puck, I know he’s going to rip off a shot instead. I’ve played against this guy plenty of times.
He’s a glory hound.
He wants the goal.
I focus on his hips to see which way he’ll move and then slide to the right and drop to my knees. When the puck flies toward me, I catch it with my glove.
As I drop the disc, Bridger races past and scoops it up, taking off toward the other side of the ice. I point to Fallyn in the stands before twisting my hand toward the ceiling. With a nod, her fingers drift to her lips and she blows me a kiss.
That’s all it takes for everything within me to settle. The nerves eating away at my insides thirty short minutes ago have completely disappeared. As the first period turns into the second and then the third, I’m having the best fucking game of my life. I feel invincible with Fallyn watching me, cheering me on each time I save a goal.
If I have my way, it’ll be a shutout.
And that’ll be for both Fallyn and Miles.
By the time the final buzzer rings signaling the end of the game, I’m exhausted.
But happy.
So fucking happy.
I did exactly what I set out to and didn’t allow the other team to score. They must have ripped off at least thirty shots. Probably more. I didn’t keep track. As soon as I saved one goal, I focused on the next one.
Each time I passed off the puck, I looked up at Fallyn and made the same gesture with my gloved hand.
My teammates clear the bench and swarm me, patting my back and shoulders. The music that blasts through the sound system echoes in my ears as the fans clap and stomp their feet. Air horns blare as the crowd roars their approval. It’s pandemonium in the arena.
Even though I realize there are going to be some major celebrations happening tonight, all I can think about is getting cleaned up and finding Fallyn. I want to wrap her up in my arms and hold her close. I want to bury my face in her hair and inhale the rosemary mint scent deep into my lungs.
More than that, I don’t ever want to let her go.
I search the stands as I skate off the ice but don’t find her anywhere. Over the din, my name is shouted.
More like chanted.
With a laugh, Colby knocks me on the shoulder and points toward the first row behind the plexiglass. There’s a group of girls who are waving crazily with signs that have my name written in orange and black on thick posterboard. As soon as I glance their way, they raise their jerseys and shake their bare tits.
Jeez.
Ford and Ryder laugh their asses off before skating to the benches.
“If Carina even catches me looking in their direction, she’ll cut my junk off,” Ford jokes.
Or maybe he’s not joking at all.
They’ve been together for about two months and from what I can tell, he has absolutely no interest in other girls.
I don’t think he ever did.
For him, it was always Carina.
His ex-stepsister.
Ryder’s the same way. He’s totally wrapped up in Juliette.
More like they’re wrapped up in each other.
