“Let’s get it done,” the rest of us say, echoing him.
After I tug the rest of my gear back on, then snap on my helmet, I hit the ice with my team, ready to dig in.
Because that’s what I do.
That’s what I’ve always done. After Heather died, I channeled all my focus, all my emotions into the game, and I leveled up.
I can do it tonight. And then I’ll see Remy, and soon, I’ll ask her out on that real date.
But as I take a lap around the ice, a traitorous thought lands in my skull.
What if she says she’s not ready? Will you be able to handle that too, you cocky ass?
Something hard and brittle wedges into my heart. A reminder not to get too close.
But even if it hurts when Remy moves on, I’ll just follow my playbook again. I’ll pour everything I’ve got into the game. I’ll keep myself locked into the sport that never lets me down. The game that deserves all my emotions.
I glide behind the net, when my attention snags on the first row behind the glass.
And the beautiful brunette who’s standing, cheering, making a scene of rooting us on as she wears my number. And not just my number butmy jersey. The one I gave her.
Fuck, she looks so damn right there that the brittle edge in me softens.
She came to my game. She’s cheering for me. And as my vision narrows to her for a quick second, I spot a glimpse of silver on her wrist.
She’s wearing the watch too.
Maybe just maybe, I don’t suck at romance after all.
I line up for the face-off, flanking Corbin, ready for anything, taking nothing for granted.
We pounce, and Corbin gets the puck so fast he’s like a goddamn cheetah on blades. He cruises toward the net, and I’m right there with him, open for a pass if he needs me.
When their defenders swarm him, he feeds the puck tome, and I race around the back of the net, flipping it to Riggs, who slams it right past their goalie.
Bam.
Just like that, the score is tied.
“That’s the way we do it,” I shout to Riggs.
“It fucking is,” he says back, and as we make our way to the boards, I can’t help it. My focus turns to her again, and when I see her hugging the person next to her, as if she’s losing her ever-loving mind over the goal, another piece of the ice surrounding my heart breaks off.
She came to the game for me.
I’ve only ever been playing for my dad, and that’s been enough for a long, long time. Making him happy. Boosting him up. Connecting with him.
But I didn’t realize how much I wanted someone in the stands for me till she showed up.
“Uh-oh. It’s happening,” Ivan says, his voice an ominous warning on my left.
“And I want to get in on the bet,” Riggs puts in from my right as they talk across me.
I furrow my brow, tearing my gaze away from Remy. “What are you two clowns talking about?”
Ivan flashes a grin my way, his eyes flickering with satisfaction. “I’m winning the bet. You’re falling in love.”
What the fuck?
