“After one date she’syour girl?” Nik asked.
“Three dates.” I pressed my hand to my stomach. “I don’t want to embarrass myself.”
Nik, Stol, Cruz, and Maxim gaped at me. “Embarrass…” Cruz mouthed.
“Hereallylikes her,” Maxim added. “And it’s screwing with his head.” He gestured toward me. “Obviously.”
“You’re a sadistic bastard,” I said. “You liked that she scolded you.”
“That washot…” Maxim rubbed his hand across his scruffy cheek.
“You took Maxim to meet her?” Nik pulled back, shock and hurt on his face.
I shrugged. “He’s the guy who dropped my phone in Cruz’s ice bath, so I couldn’t call her.”
Nik’s fists clenched. “I would have vouched for you.” His accent thickened.
“I was going to ask if you wanted to meet her after the game,” I said to fill the heavy silence.
“You could have told your closest friends,” Cruz sniffed. He turned back to his locker, hurt radiating from him. Nik followed suit.
My stomach rolled again. Arguing with the guys about my romantic life was…weird. Their investment freaked me out.
I turned and puked in the helmet in front of the locker next to mine.
“Gross.” Maxim scrambled back.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “That’s what you get for tattling and getting me in trouble.”
The rest of the guys went back to their pregame routines, but Cruz shot me a small smile and Nik a wink. My stomach calmed, and I rose, heading to the bathroom to wash out my mouth.
We skated outthrough the smokescreen and onto our side of the ice, the speakers blaring our names and the crowd roaring for their favorites. I skated forward, arms lifted, as the announcer called my name. I zeroed in on my seats. Keelie was clapping, her mouth open in a yell. My stomach settled, and the tension ebbed from my neck.
I shot her a wink and a smile. Then I shook out my arms and turned my focus to the game.
“You good?” Maxim asked as we stood in line for the national anthem. He’d gotten a different helmet from our equipment manager.
“I’m good.”
“Your girl should wear your number.”
I glanced at Keelie.Hell, yeah, she should. “I’ll take care of it.”
“And her. Take care of her.” Maxim lifted his face to the flag, effectively ending our conversation.
We skated to our bench, and Coach Whittaker frowned at me. “Heard you were sick. Do I need to pull you?”
I shook my head. “All’s good now.”
He raised an eyebrow but let it go, calling in the rest of the first line and going over his initial plan of attack.
The line hit the ice, taking their positions. Nik slammed his stick down at center ice, his face fierce with concentration. The puck dropped. I skated forward, using every bit of muscle in my legs to propel me ahead of my opponent. The puck sailed across the ice to the other side of the rink, skimming against the boards before Maxim isolated it and shot it across the ice. He took a hard hit. Setting my jaw, I planned to get even with New York’s defender, but first I needed to accept the puck. Some quick legwork and chopping motions with my stick kept my defender off the puck until I caught sight of Nik open. I passed the puck to him, and he maneuvered the rest of the way up the ice, passing it off to Cruz, who lobbed it back. Nik popped the shot around the edge of the net, just squeaking it past their goalie’s glove.
Blue light bloomed, and the horn sounded. Less than five minutes into the first period, and we had ourselves a goal.
I glanced over at Keelie, who stood and cheered.
I’d forgotten how good it felt to have someone in the stands.
