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When she’s tucked in and fast asleep, we walk downstairs hand in hand, the warmth between us growing as we start this new chapter in our lives. I can’t believe we are so lucky. Sean and I are going to be together, to get to bask in our love and support of our new makeshift family.
CHAPTER 47
SEAN
The arena is old out tonight, and the crowd is louder than usual since we’re so close to the playoffs. It feels good. Better than good. Electric. I can’t believe all of my dreams are coming true. First the NHL, then Astrid, now this. I skate in a small circle, trying to expel my excess energy. Everything is finally settling into place.
My excitement is doubled by the energy of the fans as their chants course through me, easing the nerves that still linger.
Cory and Connor’s animated exchanges beside me add to the energy. Just not in a way that’s productive.
“Hey! Save that for the game,” I shout at them, a playful grin on my face. We’ve made it this far, and we can’t get too cocky. No matter how lucky we might feel in this moment, it’s still hockey. And until the score shows us up by one, anything can go wrong.
Cory grunts, but doesn’t say anything else, taking to his position and rolling back his shoulders, determination rolling off of him in waves.
Connor winks, giving off a similar feeling of determination.
I shake my head. Thank god they’re on my team. I’d hate to go up against either one of them.
To someone who’s a casual fan, the intensity of the game might seem silly. It’s just a game, technically, I suppose. But we need this win if we want to make the playoffs. And I want to make the playoffs.
So instead of lining up to start a friendly match, it feels more like preparing for war. I take a deep breath, cold air filling my lungs. I glance to where I know Astrid is sitting in the stands. She’s jumping up and down, barely able to contain herself either.
I smile.
We take our positions and the crowd cheers louder as the ref skates over to center ice, hovering above the blue dot. The puck drops, and the game begins.
They get control first. The scrape of blades across the ice as Mike tears after their number seven. He’s fast. Their forward passes it. Cory intercepts. He finds Connor who passes it to Dan a second later.
They might look good. But we play better.
Number five comes out of nowhere, gaining back control and taking it to the other side of the ice. We scramble back, but he’s got the advantage. He passes it. Number seven charges forward. He’s got good positioning if he can make it from here. Takes a shot on goal, but it’s too far away. The goalie saves it easily, tossing the puck back out on the ice.
We take back control, the guys reset. One of their players comes out of nowhere, slamming into Cory at full speed, both collapsing into the glass. There’s a fight for control. Their bodies crashing into one another.
The crowd loves it, screaming, demanding a fight. Shit. The last thing Cory needs is an excuse to fight, and we can’t afford a powerplay this early in the game. That’s how we lost to them the last time.
Luckily, the puck soars free. One of their players secures it. He takes off, chased by Mike, leaving Cory looking sad at a missed opportunity. Their player passes the puck, but it’s deflected off one of their sticks.
I take control of the loose puck; I fire it off the boards, knowing that Connor will be there. And just like I planned, Connor is there. He charges forward, slings the puck at the goal. It goes high right.
Dammit.
The goalie puts it back into play. Their defense is fast, getting it out and into the neutral zone quickly.
Mike attacks, takes the puck, passes to Dan. Dan takes off fast, taking advantage of a hole that opens up on the ice. The crowd screams as he shoots and the puck soars over the goalie’s left shoulder, sinking into the back of the net.
Goal.
The energy in the arena is palpable. It’s only five minutes into the first period and we’ve scored.
We’re going to win. We’re going to win.
The team carries that energy and excitement into the second and third periods, even though we haven’t scored again. Cory seems determined to change that. He gets the puck. He avoids a defender, slides through an opening, and crosses over.
Number eleven barrels into him yet again, sending both of them crashing into the glass. There’s a struggle for control. Elbows fly and tensions increase. The ref skates over, ready. But the guys push off each other, going their separate ways, to the disappointment of the fans, as the puck comes loose and another player takes off.
The speed of the game increases as does the frustration. We’re maintaining control better than them, and it’s starting to show in their movements. Sloppy, Rushed.
