We dominate the first and second periods, keeping possession of the puck for most of the play. Only one of their fifteen shots on goal sneaks past the goalie. We’re up by one.
The third period doesn’t turn out much different, except for more chirping and Minnesota starting to play rough. Cooper takes a brutal hit to the boards, and Chase is hit with a high stick.
If fighting were allowed, one would have broken out when Luka charged at Beckett after he blocked a shot. One of our guys snatched the back of Jaxon’s jersey before he could throw hands.
The period ends up being scoreless.
But when the clock hits zero, the crowd erupts. Students are jumping from their seats around us. Elliot accidentally elbows me in the gut, and her hair smacks me in the face when she stands and throws her hands in the air. I’m right behind her, standing and screaming for our guys. They dog pile in the center of the ice, moving on to the championship game in two days, and at a minimum clinching a spot in the Frozen Four playoffs.
FORTY-ONE
COOPER
Sutton toldme to go celebrate with the team after our win; she wanted to get ahead of some schoolwork before our parents get in for the conference championship. But being here without her felt wrong. She’s the only person I want to celebrate with—big or small wins.
I sneak out, leaving my full beer on the bar, before walking back to my house. We were at one of the campus bars, and it was nice for once not having everyone packed into our place and knowing that in the morning I won’t have to clean up after everyone.
The right side of my body is sore from a hit I took in the third period. An angry bruise is already working its way to the surface of my ribs, the skin sensitive and tender.
It took me an extra twenty minutes to strip off my gear. The pull of my jersey over my head frustrated my side with each lengthening of my muscles. Now, convincing my quads to lift and lower my legs, working my way up the stairs to my bedroom, all I can think about is pancaking myself on my bed.
My phone died, and I need to charge it so I can call Sutton to come over. I thought about walking to her place, but I genuinely didn’t know if I’d make it.
At the top of the stairs, I contemplate lying down right here. Could roll or army crawl to my door.
You’re a big boy, Cooper. Go to your room.Sometimes the nags from the voice in my head are beneficial.
I reach for the doorknob to my room when I hear a soft pattering of feet behind it. Peeling the door open, the pain in my side is reduced to an ache that relocates itself to a different region of my body. I collapse to my knees at the sight ofheron my bed.
There’s no controlling the whimper that works its way out of me.
Wrapped in a jersey like a present, is Sutton. I spy the navy and white underwear she has on underneath.
I fall forward, bracing myself with unsteady palms. My dead phone hits the floor like a brick. The area rug burns against my palms as I’m completely hypnotized by her. Sutton wouldn’t say I’m patient, but she doesn’t know how long I’ve waited to see my name on her back, or the fantasies I have of giving it to her one day.
Her chin tilts up. “Hi, Superstar.”
“Sutton baby, please.” I bring one fist to my mouth, biting on a knuckle. “Tell me that’s my name on your back.” I caught a glimpse of the number, but I crave confirmation.
She turns around. Knees spread wide, Sutton pushes up on them, pulling her curls across her back. Letter by letter, she reveals my name.
Carmichael.
I force myself in a staring contest with my number. Twenty plus sixteen. Ours combined.Does she know I changed it? Has she realized the combination? Understand the meaning?
Sutton turns back around, sitting on her knees. An innocence to her. An answer to my questions. No she hasn’t.
“Looks good, right?” I nod robotically, my mouth hanging open. Drool is probably collecting on the floor. “Come here,” she beckons.
I crawl across the floor. The scrape of the carpet burns into my knees. She’s staring at me like a lioness does her prey. Hungry. Calculating. Unwavering.
When I’m at the edge of the bed, I push up on my knees and circle her ankles. It takes nothing to tug her to the edge of the bed.
“How much do you care about these underwear?”
“Not much. Why?”
I rip them down the front and toss the scraps to the side. Silently curse at the surprised sound that comes out of her. She closes her knees, but I open them back up.
