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I kiss my helmet once, like I always do, place it on my head, and once I’m mentally ready, I step onto the ice, kicking off my back skate and heading toward the center of the rink.
The game begins like every other, except the pace is next level from the start. Both teams vying for our spots to play for the Cup.
An hour later, my face burns from a fight that broke out, but it was worth it just to wipe the smug-ass smile off the dickhead’s face. These guys are so arrogant. They act like the Stanley is theirs, and they’re down. Typical.
The fucker commented on my press conference. Brought up my rituals. Made it sound like something is wrong with me. There’s nothing wrong. And I have nothing to prove.
I don’t give a fuck what the asshole said, but sometimes it’s good to get the juices flowing with a good old-fashioned fight.
It’s the beginning of the third period, and the game is closer than I want it to be. Coach is going ballistic, throwing shit and cursing like a sailor. If we lose this, someone might pay with their position.
We’re in the lead and we need to hold on.
My compulsive nature wants me to look up into the stands where Cass sits, but I refuse. With the way she was acting today, it could unravel all my progress.
It’s not even a second later, when, despite my best attempts, I find myself looking in her direction. Cassidy was right; I need to work through some of these compulsions after the season is over. I’m going to throw myself into trying to find coping mechanisms to help me.
She’s beautiful like always, but there’s something about her pinched expression that I can see even from here. She’s looking at her cell, and she doesn’t appear happy.
Her cheeks look sucked in from this angle, but I’m not close enough to be sure. What is she thinking about? What’s going on?
Fuck. I shouldn’t have looked up. I shake my head, blow out a breath, and focus all of my attention back on the game.
I can’t afford to get inside my head. Not now. Too much is at stake.
We just have to hold on to this lead. I skate like my life depends on it, helping to defend. To steal the puck at every opportunity. I have sweat pouring down my back and across my brows. My legs burn and my arms ache, but I won’t back down.
The other team has a breakaway, and I pound the ice with my skates, determined to stop him from scoring. He shoots, but Mason stops it.
Finally, the horn rings, and my body damn near collapses. But to hell with that, we need to celebrate.
We fucking won.
Hudson and Dane skate toward me. The excitement on their faces is priceless. Dane is usually not as visually affected by stuff like this. Not like Hudson, who is more animated. So to see Dane like this makes me realize what a moment this is.
This game was huge.
We are heading into the fifth game. It’s not over, but for tonight, we can add one more win to our belt. We’re one step closer.
After everyone leaves the ice, I skate off too, then head to the locker room and then to find Cassidy.
She’s in the hall waiting for me.
“Congratulations.” She gives me a small smile, but her arms are crossed over her chest, and the tightness of her jaw isn’t lost on me.
Something is up with her. She must know. For now, I won’t say anything, but when we get back to my place, I will.
She’s quiet the whole walk to the car.
Not one word. And everything feels wrong, almost like a catastrophic event is about to happen.
When we step into the apartment, things haven’t gotten better.
It’s not until we walk into the bedroom that I finally reach my hand out and stop her from walking into the bathroom.
“What’s going on with you?”
“What’s going on with me?” she fires back.
