A furious blush creeps up my neck at Coach’s words. I know the meaning behind them. Hell, so does most of the team.
If I didn’t get my head on straight, we might not have had this win. The setup was perfect—I was able to intercept the pass from Hollins to Williams and block what might have been a sure-fire goal. With the caliber of players those two are, it would’ve been hard to stop.
But with the stop late in the third period with time winding down, they weren’t able to put the biscuit in the basket.
Earning a hard-fought win for the Knights.
“Highlight reel for sure.” Jasper claps me on the back.
“Felt really good,” I call out.
“Looked even better from up above.”
That voice. It has nerves boiling up inside that threaten to explode out of me.
I haven’t seen Noah since he left me standing in my condo almost a month ago. A day hasn’t gone by when I haven’t thought of him.
“Noah. Just trying to take the lead from what you’ve shown us.”
My eyes dart up, scanning the locker room to find him in a hug with Coach Andrews. The guys start swarming him, but I’m rooted to the spot. My feet won’t budge.
Because it’s him. Noah.
When he left Nashville, he looked dazed. It’s like he wasn’t quite all there. I know it was because of the concussion, but maybe it was also because of me.
Now? Now, it looks like he has a clear head. His eyes are brighter.
Fuck. I didn’t realize how desperate I was to get even the slightest look at him.
“It hasn’t been the same without you.”
“We’ve missed you, man.”
I hang back as the guys crowd around him. There’s so much that I want to say to him, but I don’t know where to start.
I’m sorry?
I miss you?
I love you?
The only reason I know how he’s doing is because of my dad. The crowd around him starts to disperse, and that’s when our eyes finally meet.
Taking the first steps toward him, I have no idea what I’m going to say.
Until someone else is calling for me.
“Fisher. Press wants to talk to you,” Coach Mickey yells out to me.
Guess I have a reprieve to figure out what I’m going to say to him. Stripping out of my gear, I drop it into my locker and then step into a pair of shorts and a Knights T-shirt.
I spare a quick glance at Noah as I’m walking out the door. His eyes are locked on mine. Noah’s face is unreadable. Fuck. I hope he’s still around when I’m done.
“Graham. That was a great game tonight,” the reporter from the Nashville Star who travels with the team tells me. “How did that big play develop?”
I shake my head, a smile spreading across my face.
Hockey. This is easy. I can talk about hockey. “This is what we practice for. Knowing what to look for so you can stop the play in its tracks. Luckily I was there and was able to get the puck when we needed it to stop Colorado from scoring.”
