But Yom refused to let up. His relentless pressure forced several turnovers, and his defensive play completely shut down the Hawks’ offense. With only a few seconds left in the game, he intercepted a pass in the neutral zone, raced down the ice on a breakaway, and scored one last point with a backhander that left the goalie sprawling beneath a scoreboard that read 7-1 in favor of the Yolks.
It was such a rout that the stadium erupted into thunderous cheers. Then, as was the Yolks’ tradition when a home game was won, the players’ friends and family surged onto the ice to congratulate them and celebrate their win.
But no one rushed onto the ice for him. The thrill of winning morphed into a strange ache in his chest as Yom looked at his mostly Minnesotan teammates being hugged by their family members and kissed by their girlfriends.
Yom was well-known on campus, and many of the well-wishers gave him a thumbs-up on their way to congratulate the other skaters they were really there to see. But no one stopped to smile and tell him what a great job he did “kicking ice.” Or embraced him with love. But then...
Lydia.
Yom’s heart stopped when he saw her enter the ring, gingerly picking her way across the ice, even though she was sportinga pair of sturdy black boots underneath the same yellow wool swing coat she’d worn to class.
Had she come here for him? His heart leaped as he started skating toward her without thought to his earlier vow of vengeance.
“Hey, superstar!” Her lilting voice floated over to Yom as a happy smile split her face.
But then, instead of continuing toward him, she turned to her left and waved excitedly.
At someone who wasn’t him.
The next thing Yom knew, she was being swept up into a bear hug.
By Tommy Hanson.
“Hey, girl! Did you see me out there, straight spanking them Hawks?”
She threw her head back with a laugh, as if Hanson was the most delightful person she’d ever met. “Yes, you were so unbelievably terrific. My friends and me were cheering our heads off....”
“Hey, Rustanov, great game!”Their captain chose that moment to skate up to him. “My mom was wondering if you wanted to come to dinner with us since you never do the after-party thing.”
Instead of responding to the considerate invitation, Yom grabbed Andersson by the sleeve and pointed to Hanson with his arms still wrapped around Lydia. “Explain.”
There was an ice rink in his belly, threatening to crack.
“Oh, you didn’t hear Hanson bragging in the locker room about how he’s probably going to end up on the Minnesota Raptors because he accidentally scored a date with Lydia Carrington without even knowing who she was?”
“Carrington?” Yom repeated, not understanding.
“Yeah, Lydia Carrington. She keeps a low profile—like, never comes to games. But she’s the daughter of Joe Carrington.”
Yom could only stare at the woman smiling up at Hanson as the situation in Berlin rewrote itself in his head.
“Joe—as in Joseph Carrington? Name on the school library. Plus, he’s the owner of the Minnesota Ra?—”
“I know who he is,” Yom growled before Andersson could finish.
Da,he was now fully aware that he hadn’t been duped by Paul Carrington’s girlfriend—but his sister.
Forget what he’d said to himself earlier....
The cracked ice in his belly froze over. Into something much uglier.
This beef with Lydia wasn’t over.
In fact, it had only just begun.
Lydia
“So,what d’ya think about this, girl?” Tommy asked me, lowering his voice. “You. Me. Going back to my house.”
