Play resumed, but now that we’d tasted success, there was no stopping us. The frontline glided straight through the opposition’s attackers, stealing the puck and taking it straight to the goal. This time, it was Cromwell who scored. I didn’t care who had the honor, as long as it was us and not the opposition.
The other team fought hard for the rest of the period, no doubt knowing that the outcome of the game depended on it. It was messy. Sticks flying, bodies colliding, and more than a few drops of blood spilling on the ice. But then, minutes from the final buzzer, Gallagher passed the puck up to me, I flicked it over to the other wing, and he slipped it over the line.
We won.
The team came together, exchanging boisterous hugs and back slaps. I skated a victory lap, dragging Cromwell with me, then skated over to the barrier nearest to Tally and my family. I pressed my palm against the plastic and grinned up at them.
My heart swelled. I was so happy to have supportive parents and the world’s best best-friend, who would always make the effort to be there for me and show how much they cared.
I tapped my chest and pointed to them. I may not be the best at showing emotion, courtesy of growing up in the public eye and always needing to keep a lid on things, but I never wanted them to forget or doubt how much I appreciated them.
“That’s my boy!” Mom yelled.
“You killed it out there,” Dad said, giving me an emphatic two thumbs up.
I snorted. Dork.
I rejoined the team, and we lined up to exchange handshakes with the opposition. As we made our way along the line, I nodded and smiled at everyone who looked friendly and tried to ignore the ones who scowled. Of course they were upset. They’d lost.
With that over, we got off the ice and headed to the changerooms. While we began to strip off, Coach Alan stood at the head of the room, notebook in hand, expression giving nothing away.
“Well, boys, you sure made me sweat that time,” he said, the faintest curl of his lip indicating that he might be less than impressed by our earlier performance.
“Sorry, coach,” someone called from deeper in the changeroom.
“At least you brought it around at the end,” he said, then glanced down at his notebook. “I think we can agree that while we may have won tonight, there is plenty to work on. Here are a few things I noticed.”
After the debrief, I showered and changed into a suit. Coach Alan had pulled Cromwell aside to speak to the media, which meant that I didn’t have to, but we still had to look our best for any opportunistic photographers who might be hanging around.
I said my goodbyes and made a beeline for the door. Some of the team liked to gather for “bonding” activities after the games—i.e. getting drunk and trying to find a puck chaser to takehome. I never took part in that, and they all knew as much. Especially after home games. After those, I liked to eat with my parents and talk shop.
As soon as I exited the changeroom, I spotted Tally waiting in the corridor. She straightened from where she’d been leaning against the wall, and hugged me, maneuvering around my gear bag.
“Your parents have gone to your place already,” she said as she let me go. “Your mom wanted to get started on dinner.”
“Any idea what she’s planning for tonight?” I asked. Mom was a fantastic cook. Dad liked to play sous chef, although he’d have no idea what to do if not for her.
“I don’t know, sorry,” she said.
“Whatever it is, I’m sure it will be delicious.” My gaze dropped to the hem of her shirt, above which my name stood out in stark white lettering. “My jacket suits you.”
She blushed, and I wondered what it meant. I’d never commented on her wearing my jacket before, except to be grateful for the support, but now, considering the situation with Thad and Coral and Lake’s wedding, it occurred to me again that all of those years of having her cheer on the sidelines, wearing my name for all to see, would play well into the ruse I’d suggested.
“Perhaps…” I trailed off, trying to figure out how I could word this so she wouldn’t immediately say no. “Because you look so good in my jacket, and you already wear it anyway, you ought to just let me play the role of doting boyfriend. We’re pretty much doing everything a couple would do.”
The pink of her cheeks deepened, and my breathing stuttered.
“Well,” I amended, “everything except, you know, the sex.”
She giggled and clapped her hand to her mouth. “The sex?” she asked, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Did you seriously just call it ‘the sex’?”
I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean.”
Her giggles faded. “It really isn’t necessary. I’ll be fine.”
“I disagree. It’s completely necessary. No one is going to get away with cheating on you and breaking your heart and then adding insult to injury by flaunting their new relationship in front of you and your entire extended family.”
She pursed her lips and looked around as if checking that no one could overhear us. A few more of my team members had trailed out of the changeroom but none of them even glanced our way.
