“Fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“If you’re worried about the game, don’t. I’ll be on my game.”
“I’m not worried about that, Roman. You’re a good player, and I know you won’t have your head up your ass. I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“Okay, but…” He pauses and I look up at him. “I think I know what you’re upset about.”
“Do you?” I question.
“Yes,” he says firmly. “Because I met someone too, and knowing we live so far apart… it sucks.”
I narrow my eyes, not sure if he’s bullshitting to make me feel better, but something about his tone makes me believe him.
“Yeah… it does.”
We finish eating, and head over on the bus with the other guys. Morning skate goes well, but all I can think about is last night and skating around the rink with Nico.
I’ve known him for a week. How can I be this attached? How can I not stop thinking about him? I struggle to connect with people; it’s why I stick to myself. And typically, he isn’t the kind of person I would hang out with. Not to mention the slight age gap… Yet all I want to do is be with him. And it really sucks because once we leave here, that’s it.
We haven’t talked about it, and I don’t think we will. What’s there to say? We’re leaving but we’ll keep in touch—even though we know we won’t, because it’ll hurt too much. That’s obviously how this is going to go. We’re just going to forget about this time, act like it never happened, and move on with our lives when we get home. Because there is no other option.
Maybe it won’t be as bad as I think. Maybe once I’m home and back on my own team, hockey will be my life again. Maybe not everything will remind me of Nico Laurent.
Maybe…
Chapter Twenty
Nico
He’s going for the gold, and I feel it with my whole chest, that they’re going to win. USA will take home the gold medal this year.
Roman is playing harder than I’ve seen him play before. He wants this. More than he did in the beginning. His plays are sharper, checks are harder, and he’s skating faster.
This isn’t the final game, but whoever wins this one will go on to play for the gold. There’s a lot riding on tonight, and I have full faith in Roman Blake Callahan.
“You can do this,” I whisper to myself as I watch him dive in front of a puck to block it from going into the net. The goalie already launched to the left to stop it, and the opposing team came back with another shot. But Roman was there, using hisentire body to stop that puck from going in. I can’t imagine that felt good, but I can kiss it better later…
He gets up from the ice and skates off to the benches, quickly being replaced by another player who skates to the other end of the ice to join the team in the play. They’re tied right now, with just under ten minutes left in the third period.
They can do this.
“I don’t know if they’re going to make it,” Étienne says with a shake of his head.
“They will,” I say firmly. “Just trust me.”
“The puck is spending too much time in their zone. They need to bring it back to the other side and get more shots.”
“They will win this,” I say.
Étienne watches me for a long moment before bringing his attention back to the ice. The plays stop way too much, a mix of being offsides and icing.
The crowd cheers when there’s a little over three minutes left and we get a power play.
“We need this right now,” Étienne says.
