Page 79 of Home of the Brave

“We all saw you kiss already—you’re allowed to hug,” Schultz called. “We won’t even look.” He waved his arms, moving the group along. “Come on, give the kids some space.”

Victoria faced me again, blushing. “Great, but very embarrassing friends.”

“Oh, definitely,” I agreed, then opened my arms and folded them around her as she stepped into me. I rested my chin on the top of her head, soaking this feeling in.

After a long moment of peace, she tilted her head back. “Are they still watching?”

I looked past her. “No, they’re halfway down the street.”

“Good,” she lifted to her toes and pressed her lips softly to mine.

I rode the high of that kiss all the way through our first game. And once we won, a weight lifted off my shoulders. The guys claimed an early lead in the first period and held it through to the final buzzer.

There was an energy in the locker room similar to after a playoff win. We found our rhythm as a team, and there was a sort of joy and relief in that.

It was electric.

All we’d been working tirelessly through practices for was paying off in front of the entire country.

But all I could think was how badly I wanted to get off the ice, shower, change, and get to the press room.

For the tournament, only select reporters were allowed in the tunnels or locker rooms. Normally, I’d love this arrangement, but each second from the time I caught her eye at the final buzzer felt like ten minutes.

“You ready?” I asked Hartman on my way to get Schultz to hurry.

“Give me a second,” he said, while pulling on socks.

“Why are you in such a rush?” Schultz asked with a teasing smile. “Somewhere important to be?”

I glared at him.

He laughed.

“I’m not waiting.” I told him as I pushed open the door.

As much as I couldn’t wait to get to the press room, there was one thing I had to do first.

19

VICTORIA

There was excitement in the air, even this early on a Tuesday morning. The tournament was drawing in crowds and viewers based on the report I got last night, and spectators were already up chatting about the women’s second game.

I sipped my coffee, people-watching, while waiting for Cambrie to join me. The limited-edition jerseys were scattered throughout the dining area, and I was proud to note there was a decent mix of the men’s and women’s teams.

My phone vibrated on the counter in front of me, and I tapped the screen to see the new message.

Unknown: If you want breaking news, be at the arena in ten

I stared at the words, trying to understand what they meant, who it was from, and whether I should trust an unknown source. Were they trying to lure me in?

As I was staring, another message popped up.

Bring a camera.

Okay, well, if they were trying to hurt me, they wouldn’t recommend bringing a way to record it.

I glanced around for Cambrie but didn’t see her, so I called, and she answered on the first ring.