And Clark.
He’s always good, but tonight he operates like a bulldozer. Every save is precise, powerful, almost aggressive. Denver crushed them days ago, but tonight the Knights are playing like they have something to prove.
Which they do—this win could seriously put them in contention for a playoff spot.
The first period ends with the Knights up by two. The second period is tighter—the Empire State Kings score once, but the Knights answer back with two more goals. By the third period, the crowd is deafening.
“Come on, come on,” I mutter, gripping the edge of my seat.
With two minutes left, the Kings pull their goalie for an extra attacker. My heart is in my throat as the puck races up and down the ice.
However, it’s worth noting that Clark is an apex competitor and is locked in. He makes a save that has the entire arena on its feet. The puck rebounds to Mikey, who sends it flying down to the empty net.
Goal!
The buzzer sounds with the final score five to one, Knights. We’ve won.
The arena erupts. The girls and I are screaming, hugging, jumping up and down like we’ve lost our minds.
“We won!” Heidi shouts.
Whit adds, “We’re crushing the season!”
Someone opens the door to the suite and hollers, “Come on! We’re going down!”
“Down where?” I ask, but I’m already being swept along in the current of excited WAGs and family members rushing toward the ice.
We burst through the tunnel and onto the rink, and suddenly I’m standing on the ice in my sneakers (thankfully, they have good grip), surrounded by celebrating hockey players.
And then I see Clark skating away from the goal as if he finally accepted the win well after the buzzer sounded and the board lit up with the final score and felt comfortable leaving his post.
He removes his mask, and his hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat, but his face is lit up with pure, uninhibited joy. He’s grinning wider than I’ve seen in days.
Our eyes meet across the ice.
He approaches, and I’m reminded of all the reasons I fell for him in the first place. How strong and powerful he is. The way his whole face transforms when he smiles. How he could be looking for anyone in the arena, but it’s me.
Me?Me.
10
APRIL
As the surroundingpandemonium continues post-win against the Empire State Kings, I wonder where Posh is. Clark’s parents? Whitaker? Surely, they’re here somewhere. Posh has to be his biggest fan, right?
“April!” Clark reaches me and before I can sayCongratulationsorGood gameor anything coherent, he sweeps me into a hug and lifts me off my feet.
I’m spinning. We’re spinning. He’s laughing and I’m laughing. For this one perfect moment, everything else falls away as his arms wrap snuggly around me.
When he sets me down, I’m dizzy—from the spinning or from being in his arms, I’m not sure which.
“You were amazing,” I manage to say.
“I had good luck,” he says, not letting go of me completely. His hands rest on my waist, steadying me on the ice. “You were here.”
The buffalo flutters stampede through my stomach, practically trampling me with their excitement.
Amidst all the cheering, the distinct sound of the kiss cammusic plays over the arena speakers. Strangely, everyone gathers near us.
