I suck in a deep breath and find Kendall in the stands as I gather with the guys.
Coach leans in. “You’ve done this before with no issue. You each know what you have to go out there and do. Play smart, be fast, and put the puck in the fucking net.”
We tap sticks and head back out. Every person is on their feet, and nervous energy ripples through the building. This adrenaline is what I live for.
The puck drops, and we both come out hard. It’s back and forth, chances on both ends. My heart is in my fucking throat every time the Kodiaks get close to our net. Three minutes in, Hunter nearly scores on a breakaway, but the goalie makes a ridiculous glove save.
“Bullshit!” Hunter slams his stick against the boards.
I tap his helmet. “Next one is yours.”
Five minutes. Six. Seven. Every shift feels like an eternity.
Then Callan steals the puck at center ice, and I’m already moving, already breaking toward the net. Suddenly, I have the puck.
“Here we fucking go again,” I mutter, smirking.
But the goalie isn’t falling for the same move twice. He stays deep in the crease, patient, waiting for me to commit first. I fake it, but he doesn’t bite, so I pull up short and look for another option.
Hunter is crashing the net from the left side. I slide the puck across to him, and he one-times it, but the goalie kicks it away with his pad. The rebound bounces back toward me, and I don’t have time to think, don’t have time to aim; I just swing my stick and connect.
I might as well have shot with my fucking eyes closed. A shot I’ve made a thousand times. But this time, it counts more than any of them.
It’s like everything moves in slow motion, and I watch the puck rocket toward the net. The goalie is still down from blocking Hunter’s shot. Bodies are scrambling everywhere.
Then … it hits the top corner, bar down, and it’s the sweetest fucking sound I’ve ever heard.
For a single heartbeat, the arena goes completely silent, and then the horn blares. It’s a roar I’ve never heard before.
Now the hats come. Hundreds of them rain down from every section, covering the ice while my teammates pile on top of me. I’m at the bottom of the heap, laughing like a maniac, ribs hurting, but not caring about the pain because we did it.
We fucking did it!
Not me.Us.
When they let me up, I find Hunter first and pull him into a hug. “That screen was everything.”
“You did the hard part.” He’s grinning so wide that I can see every tooth. “Hat trick in overtime to win the playoffs. You’re a fucking legend, Patty. Honored to play with you.”
I grab Callan next. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Damn right you couldn’t.” He’s crying. “We’re going to the playoffs!”
“That Cup is ours!”
It’s 3 to 2.
We win.
Ninety-four goals. I needed one to tie, another to break it, and added one more to grow on.
I skate a slow lap with my stick raised, taking in the hats covering the ice. The fans are losing their minds; the scoreboard flashing my name and the number ninety-four.
They chant my name, and it rolls through the building like thunder.
“CROSS! CROSS! CROSS! CROSS! CROSS!”
I look up at the stands and search through the chaos until I find her.
