Page 22 of Your Masked Haunting

Ledger shrugs it off, but Ransom nods, his eyes widening. “God, you have no idea. But it’s a nice break from the humidity we’ve been living in for a few years. We’re happy to be here. Seriously.”

Kol introduces the rest of the guys who are here this morning to our newcomers before we set up for scrimmage. The first couple of shifts, we struggle a little bit to find our groove with them, but when we change out and take the ice again, I can feel it in the air.

Athletes and even some fans have described this sixth sense. It’s like electricity in the air when you can feel the stars aligning. Something good is coming.

Bates brings it into the zone. I fly into the right wing, Kol in the left, and Ledger and Ransom are by the blue line. The puck shifts over to Ledger, and his next move takes me by fucking surprise, but it’s a good thing I’m always ready.

Shifting my hips slightly so I’m open to the net, I pull my stick back right as the puck glides through the opponent’s legs. In one smooth motion, I swing through, driving the puck at an incredibly sharp angle toward the net. The only opening from this close to the red line is the top-left corner of the net. And that’s exactly where it goes, dinging the bar slightly as it ricochets home.

Throwing my arms up, I’m giddy, like a kid on Christmas, as I turn back to Ledger with unleashed excitement. “Are you kidding me? That’s what I’m talking about! Sick pass!”

Emil, whose legs were the tunnel for Ledger’s pass, pats Ledger’s back as he skates toward the middle of the ice. “Good pass.” His Russian accent is thick.

“Thanks, man,” Ledger says before turning back to me, a cocky smirk on his face.

I can see why Coach thought we’d all be a good team. But this is either going to continue to go this smoothly or our egos are going to have a pissing match.

For right now though, I can only see the end. The Cup hoisted above my head, the arena blaring and loud. It’s coming. I know it.

We reset at center ice and play until time starts to fade away and I’m drenched head to toe in sweat. But when we end the scrimmage, my adrenaline is at an all-time high as I think of everything to come.

Both with the two new Sinners additions and with Mona.

I want her at my games, wearing my jersey, my name on her back. I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything, maybe even more than winning. I swear, she might even make losing feel good.

But I don’t have to consider that possibility right now because we’re not going to lose. And eventually, one of these days, she’s going to be in those seats, cheering my name. Count on it.

A quick shower later, and I’m digging my phone out of my pocket, waiting at my seat in the locker room for the other two idiots to get done since we all rode together.

I find a text from Serena about tomorrow.

Serena: We’re heading to The Schrader House tonight to start decorating. A team of about fifteen people. Does seven o’clock still work? Or does that interfere with anything else?

In the midst of every waking thought being consumed by Mona, I absolutely spaced the fact that I offered The Schrader House for Serena’s venue for the Bound-to-Be Halloween matchmaking party tomorrow night. Costumes required.

After getting clarification from Clara that seven o’clock is good, I let Serena know. I wonder if we’re going to get stuck helping decorate. Regardless, I still need a costume, and given the fact that neither Bates nor Kol has mentioned costume shopping recently, I imagine they do too.

Ransom pulls me from my thoughts as he strides over and stops a few feet in front of me, out of his gear and in black sweats and a Sinners crewneck. “What are you guys doing after this?”

Ledger wanders over, typing aggressively on his phone. I think most things Ledger does comes with a beat of aggression though, so I can’t tell if he’s pissed off at someone or if he’s texting a family member about dinner plans.

“We’ve got to go get costumes or figure out whatever the hell we’re wearing to this party Bates’s girl is throwing tomorrow,” I tell them, an idea sparking in my mind. “You guys should come. It’s going to be fun.”

They glance at each other, and the humor that dances in their gazes reminds me of all the times in school when I met Kol’s or Bates’s stare and had to try not to laugh or when I knew they were thinking some ridiculous thing, same as me.

There’s a weight in their stares, giving me a feeling that they share some kind of looming past experience of a party or of Halloween.

Or a good one ... Ledger’s and Ransom’s lips twitch, and I’m wondering if maybe they have some secret stories of their own like us three do. I’m sure, given their childhood friendship, they could tell a story or two.

At the same time, they turn to me and answer drastically differently.

“We’d love that.” Ransom smiles.

“Absolutely not.” Ledger shakes his head.

Their necks nearly break when they look back at one another, a silent conversation seemingly happening in their stares.

“We don’t mix well with parties,” Ledger mutters, barely audible enough for me to catch it.