"They think we're just some small-town team playing grab-ass for tourists." My voice drops lower, harder. "But we're the team that went undefeated at home last season. We're the team that owns this ice."
"Damn right!" someone calls out.
I catch Felix's eye. He's standing straighter now. Liam's beside him, calm settling over his features.
"Liam, you've been working on that wraparound for weeks. Tonight you use it." I point my stick at him.
The energy in the room builds. This is what we all need.
"They think they know us." I set my stick down, hands on my hips. They've got tape on us, stats on us. But they don't know the team standing in this room right now."
Felix bumps Liam's shoulder, a small smile finally breaking through.
"Brookfield's goalie goes glove-side when he's rattled," I continue. "So let's rattle him. First shift, we pepper him with shots. Make him think. Make him doubt."
"Make him cry," Brennan adds with a grin.
"That too." I grab my helmet. "Gentlemen, we've got a town out there expecting a show. We've got kids who've been waiting all year to see us play. We've got—"
Maybe Naomi. Maybe not. Doesn't matter right now.
"—everything to play for. So we go out there, and we remind everyone why this is our ice."
"Hell yeah!" The room erupts.
"Hands in," I say.
The team crowds around, hands stacked in the center. I look across the circle at Felix and Liam. They nod. We're ready. As ready as we can be.
"Puckers on three," I call. "One, two—"
"PUCKERS!"
The roar echoes off the walls.
We file out toward the tunnel. The sound of the crowd builds with each step. Cheers, music, the buzz of excitement. The whole town is here.
"Silas," Liam says quietly beside me. "Whatever happens—"
"I know." He doesn't need to finish his sentence.
"Let's play hockey, guys," Felix says, bouncing on his skates behind us, and I can hear the excitement in his voice.
Damn right. I take a breath that goes all the way to my skates.
The announcer's voice booms: "Ladies and gentlemen, your Lakeview Puckers!"
We explode onto the ice to deafening cheers. The cold hits my face, familiar and sharp. My skates cut into the surface, sending up sprays of ice.
Muscle memory takes over. Stick on ice. Eyes up. Circle the net. Tap the posts. Routine. Normal.
I circle back toward the bench and scan the crowd. No sign of her, even in the VIP section, where I can see Mia.
My heart stops for a second, but I take back control. Not a problem. This is for us, for Lakeview.
The ref blows his whistle. Time to face off.
I skate to center ice, Brookfield's captain across from me. The crowd noise fades to white static...
