Redheaded Assassin
This was fun while it lasted. Blocking you now.
Me
I was going to say the round of applause you’re going to get tonight!!!!!!
Hartwell?
Red?
Damp it.
“There’snothing like playing for a sold-out crowd, is there?” I ask Hudson as we stand in the tunnel and wait to take the ice. “It’s amazing what winning a couple games will do.”
“Brings out the whole city.” He fastens his helmet and moves his hips in a circle, ignoring my snicker at his stretches. “When’s the last time we filled the upper bowl?”
“It’s been ages, hasn’t it? Definitely didn’t happen last season.”
“I think it was when they gave out those shirtless calendars of the team to all the fans in attendance. Remember the line to sign your photo after the game? You were here until midnight.” Hudson bursts out laughing at the memory. “The woes of being attractive.”
“Says the man who has two million Instagram followers who go crazy when you post a shirtless photo of you and your dogs.” I flex my fingers under my glove, wincing. “My hand hurt so bad that night, but half the ticket sales that night went to charity. It was worth it. Maybe we should do that again.”
“Smile, boys,” Maven says, interrupting us to snap a picture. I sling an arm over Hudson’s shoulder, and we both grin. “We should do the calendar idea again.”
“Is your man joining tonight?” I ask her.
“Yeah, up in the boxes,” she answers. “June too.”
“Oh, shit. My favorite girl is here? How did you convince him to let that happen?”
“It wasn’t me. June batted her eyes and Dallas had no choice but to say yes.”
“What a deviant. She could ask for eighteen ponies and I’d give them to her,” I say.
“Are you going to come say hi after the game? She’ll want to see you.”
“I’d love to, but I have a commitment. How about ice cream when we all get back to the apartment later? I’ll bring it by.”
“We’d love that. You’re such a good neighbor.” Maven pinches my cheek and hustles down the hallway toward the rink, her large camera tucked safely against her chest. “Have a good game, boys!”
Hudson pouts. “I want ice cream.”
“Get your own,” I say, and I flick his ear. “And get your head in the game. It’s almost go time.”
“You feeling good this afternoon, Cap?”
“I’m feeling fantastic.”
Adrenaline courses through my veins like it does before every game, but today is different.
I’m riding the high of a few stellar performances over our last couple of games. The pieces are sliding into place, and we’re getting close to the point where magic happens on the ice.
I fucking love it.
It’s exciting to love playing again. To look forward to every game and know that my teammates are going to give every ounce of their effort because they want to win just as badly as I do. I’ve never gotten to experience that pinnacle in the NHL before, and the last two weeks are the closest I’ve ever been.
“They’re going to be chanting your name soon, Mavvy,” Hudson jokes, grabbing his stick off the wall. “Where’s Emmy?”
