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My throat thickens. I’d do a hell of lot more than win a hockey game for Hart. He’s my brother in every way that matters. I wanted this win for me. But I wanted it for him even more.
“I love you too, man,” I say. “Yours wasn’t awful either.”
He pulls back so I can see his grin. “Empty netter? If I’d missed, I would’ve told the scouts not to sign me myself.”
I snort. “Must have been your lucky bracelet.” He’s still wearing it.
Conor rolls his eyes, then glances around. He runs a handthrough his dark hair, shaking his head. “I can’t believe it. I can’t fucking believe it. We actually won.”
“Only because I saved your speech last round,” I tell him.
He guffaws, shoving me. “Well, it definitely wasn’t your wayward dick helping anyone focus.”
I turn serious. “I know. I’m sorry—”
Conor holds up a hand, silencing me. “We’re good, Phillips. Don’t apologize. We both know you’d do it again.” He smirks. “I heard you called her your girlfriend in front of Coach. Assuming he doesn’t toss you under a Zamboni, maybe we can double date sometime.”
I surprise us both by agreeing. “Yeah, that would be fun.”
“Happy for you, man.” Hart punches my shoulder, then skates away to hug Willis.
I hug Hunter next, who’s so stunned he’s hardly speaking, and then after that it’s a blur of celebrations that eventually moves into the locker room so we can all shower and change. The high of winning has fully erased any awkwardness with the team. I don’t try to apologize to any of the other guys. My goal said it all, I hope. I don’t owe any of them an explanation or justification.
Coach is another story, but this isn’t the time or the place to have a serious conversation with him. He’s talking to Willis, nodding along to something our goalie is saying with a rare smile on his face.
Rylan is in this arena somewhere. But I doubt I’ll get to see her before boarding the bus, and we’re headed straight to the airport from here. This arena is five times the size of Holt’s, and no one’s lingering around in the locker room. Everyone’s eager to get back to Washington, where we canreallycelebrate.
I wonder if news has spread across campus yet. Probably. There were a bunch of watch parties planned and most of the guysare on their phones, likely posting on social media. Conor has his pressed to his ear, talking to his mom. Hunter’s texting his dad.
And me?
I forgot my family was coming, until I find them waiting in the hallway outside the locker room.
They stand out among the other Holt fans who made the trip to Ohio, my mom in a sleek fur coat and Parker in a pink puffer jacket. My dad and Jameson in their designer suits. There’s no sign of the Maddens. Maybe they’re off commiserating with Fabor.
I chew on the inside of my cheek as I walk over with my hand shoved deep into my pockets.
Them coming here to see me play for appearances’ sake was cold. Walking right past them without saying a word would be colder.
And I don’twantto be always arguing with my parents. I’m sick of it. I’d rather they either leave me alone or stop bitching about my choices.
“That was a good game.” My dad speaks first, buttoning up his wool coat.
I snort at the understatement. We just won the Division III championship. “Yeah.”
“Not a bad way to end the season,” Jameson chimes in with.
I’m tempted to snort again, but I don’t. “I should go,” I say instead, hiking a thumb over one shoulder. Most of the guys are halfway down the hallway by now. “Got a bus and a flight to catch.”
That seems to wake my mom up. “I’m so happy for you, Aidan,” she says, stepping forward and giving me a hug.
The sweet, floral scent of her expensive perfume fills my nose. I don’t love the smell, but it’s nostalgic. The same fragrance she’s worn since I was a little kid.
“Thanks, Mom,” I mumble.
They came, I guess. Regardless of the reason they made the trip, they were here to see me win. It doesn’t mean as much, but it means something. And maybe…maybe this is the only way they knew how to come.
My mom doesn’t even complain about the wet drops from my hair landing on her fancy coat. Impressive, since it was passed down from her mother and I’ve been personally subjected to a lot of lectures about how carefully the heirloom needs to be handled before.
