“Listen up. If we win the face-off, then we have time for one last play,” Coach yells over the noise of the stadium. He looks to me. “Got one more in you?”
“Hell yeah.”
My teammates murmur their agreement, some even tap me on the head or shoulder. We’d typically be more discreet about a final play, but Houston has to know the puck is coming my way. I’ve been on fire tonight. An assist and two goals. One more and I’ll have a hat trick.
Adrenaline courses through me. It’s one of those nights where I can’t feel any of the aches and pains or even the burn of my legs and lungs. I feel unstoppable. It’s been a long while since I’ve had a game this good.
Coach draws up the play and then the first line takes the ice. The stadium is on their feet. It’s a sea of purple—jerseys, signs, hats. I find Hannah the same way I’ve found her all night. She’s already looking at me, smiling. Damn that feels good. I can’t believe she came. She can’t possibly know what it means to me. The last time someone came specifically to watch me play was so long ago I can’t even remember it.
Nick wins the face-off and D-Low comes up with the puck. We set up in front of the net. D-Low passes back to Nick and then he gets it to Shep. Victor Aven is all over me. He’s been talking shit all night.
He sends an elbow to my side. “Everyone is watching, Bennett. Try not to choke. Though that’s what you do best. Three rookies could do your job for half the cost. You’re not worth the hefty price tag they’re paying you.”
I’m not sure he even believes the dumb ass things that come out of his mouth. Whatever. He can say or think whatever the hell he wants. Tonight, it’s not getting to me. The only thing that’s important is that he wants to stop me less than I want to win.
“As long as you’re watching. I don’t want you to miss me scoring all over you.” I finally get the edge on him and Shep fires the puck my way. I get off a quick high shot to his right, but the goalie is ready for me. He blocks it with his stick and when the puck bounces back at me, I’m ready too. I go low and left and the goal light flashes only seconds before the final buzzer sounds. Game over.
Nick, D-Low, and Shep throw their arms around me, followed by the rest of the team. Hats around the arena are being thrown down onto the ice, but nothing is better than the smile on Hannah’s face.
We have a tradition after every win to award one guy with the player of the game award. The glorious award is a purple wrestler belt with a silver plate inscribed with the Moonshot logo. It’s hideous and amazing. It changes hands every game and on the back there are names and dates going back ten years ormore. It’s fun, slightly silly, and highly coveted. Whichever guy was awarded it last, hands it out after the game. And tonight, Nick gives it to me.
“Congrats, man.” Nick gives me the belt and pulls me into a side hug. “Well deserved. That was something special tonight.”
“Thanks.” I hold the belt up over my head as the guys cheer. It’s the first time I’ve had it all season and it feels like a turning point. All my teammates come by again to offer their support and congrats. I’m buzzing with energy, almost too amped to get showered and changed. The only thing focusing me is getting out of here in time to find Hannah before she leaves.
I place the belt on the shelf in my locker to display before I strip out of my jersey and pads, then sit to take off the rest of my gear.
“Are you headed to MVP?” Shep asks from his stall next to mine.
“I’m not sure. You?”
“Yeah. One drink. You should come by for a bit. It’s your night, man.”
I nod, hurrying to get out of the rest of my gear. I’d be tempted to skip showering if I didn’t smell so bad.
As soon as I’m ready, I head out with my phone in hand.
Me
Where are you? Did you go home already?
I’m staring at the screen waiting for Hannah’s reply text when I hear someone call out my name. No, not someone,Hannah.
I glance up and there she is. My heart fucking stops for a beat. Then all at once, I’m buzzing with the same energy I had on the ice. She’s here. She stayed.
As amped as I am, it feels like I move to her in slow motion. She’s in jeans and a white tank top with a short, black leather jacket. Her hair is in a low ponytail and the end hangs over one shoulder. I wonder if she’ll ever stop being so damn beautiful it takes my breath away.
When I’m within a few feet, she finally reciprocates and takes a step toward me. There’s something off in her gait. She’s favoring her right leg.
“What’s wrong?” I ask instead of hello.
“I injured my ankle in practice today.” She waves it off. “Congratulations! That was incredible!”
The compliment hits, but it’s having her here, in front of me, smiling like she’s happy and proud that makes warmth spread through my chest.
I drop my bag and scoop her up, cradling her lower back in one arm and her legs in the other.
“Travis,” she squeaks my name out. “What are you doing?”
