Chapter nine
Luka
Weweresoinsync last game that the last goal in the power play was like magic on the ice. I kept thinking about it all night. Actually, my mind kept thinking up ways we could turn that play into a fun trick play for the crowd to really get excited about. But it’ll only work if I can convince Reid to give it a shot.
I get to the rink early before practice to try to work out the details. More times than I can count, a play looks cool in my head but actually has zero chance of being successful. I once thought up a play I was so sure would be amazing, until Cosmo’s boyfriend—or I should say fiancé now—ran it through his program proving there was no way a human body could twist the way it would need to in order to pull it off. I might have tried for another two weeks, hoping I could prove him wrong. But it was no use. This idea, though, doesn’t involve any inhuman contortions of the body.
“You’re going to make the rest of us look bad if you keep this early practice up all year,” Reid says, skating out onto the ice.
“I’m just messing around,” I lie.
“It looked like you were working on something,” he says, scooping one of the pucks I have in a pile and sweeping it into the net.
“I had an idea for another power play set, but it’s . . . well, it’s kind of a trick shot.”
“And you know how I feel about those.” Reid scoops another puck and fires it into the net.
“Yes, but it’s also one that kind of needs you too, and well, you know what they say about teaching old dogs new tricks.”
Reid turns to me with a tongue-in-cheek scowl.
“I’m not in the crypt just yet. Go on, tell me what you were thinking.”
“Really?”
“Hurry up before I come to my senses.”
I take Reid through my idea, and he mostly frowns the entire time, but the fact that he’s even listening to me is a huge win.
“So, you think it’ll work?” I ask.
“I think it’s risky, and it completely relies on me pulling off something I’m not convinced I can pull off. But it’s also something I haven’t seen on the ice before, so at the very least it’ll catch them off guard the first time we try it.”
“So you’ll give it a go?”
He shrugs. “Why not. It’ll be an hour before the rest of the team gets here, so we have time.”
“Why are you here early anyway?” I ask as I shoot all but one of the pucks from my pile to the side wall out of the way. He cocks one eyebrow.
“I figured you’d be here early and someone should be here to keep an eye on you.”
“So you like watching me, do you?”
I’m sure I see his cheeks flush, but it could just be the cold air of the rink. He dips his head, eyeing me through thick lashes.
“Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to show me your plan, Hart?”
“Right, okay, so it goes like this.”
I take him through the moves.
“So I need to get up close to the net like I’m going to try to shoot it in, but then swing around the back, sending the puck to you at the exact moment you’ve put yourself in front of the net to shoot it in?” Reid repeats.
“Exactly, but you have to do it at high speed, swooping around the back, and you’ll need to maintain control to make it in one go. Do you think you can do that?”
“Let’s find out,” he says, and I send him the puck. He speeds down the ice, but when he gets to the net and carves around it, he loses momentum, his balance shifts as he tries to overcorrect, and the puck drifts away as he slams against the wall.
“Fuck.” He winces.
