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We both watch as Tempe retaliates for the hit on me, slamming Sanders into the wall down by their goal. He goes down hard. Tempe stands over him with a smirk on his face for a second before skating off.
Ollie glances at me as he adjusts his helmet. “Lucky for you, the guys here are loyal. There is no me anymore. Only we.” He rises and tumbles over the wall, yelling over his shoulder, “You’re one of us now. They go to war with you, Anderson, they go to war with all of us.”
A sense of pride and belonging seeps into my chest for the first time since I can remember. This was what I was missing during my time in Cali. The camaraderie. Friends, not just guys you share the ice with. Hockey became all about business in Anaheim, and I lost some of the love I’d always had for the sport during my time there. I didn’t realize how much the negativity had taken a toll on me until I was removed from the situation and thrust into a better one.
Coop blocks a shot on our goal, and I see Beers skating over to the bench as the puck is cleared. I jump the wall and take his place, controlling the puck as it floats right in front of my stick. My thighs burn as I dig in to gain speed. I dodge another hit as one of my former teammates barrels toward me, and I pass the puck to Ollie. My momentum takes me around the back of the goal and to the other side as Ollie takes a shot. I fight for position as it hits the pole and ricochets. I react, managing to get my stick on it before it’s cleared. I watch as the puck floats across the line, my arms going into the air in celebration as the red light starts circling to indicate a goal. In the next moment, I’m down on the ice, gasping for breath, as someone checked me hard from behind. Then, chaos erupts.
Everyone is pushing and shoving. Ollie is yelling about the dirty play, his forearm pinning number forty-four’s neck against the wall. A referee is squatting beside me, asking if I need a trainer, while I remain on all fours, grimacing through the pain in my low back. Cruz drops his gloves and grabs the uniform of the guy who hit me, Darius Zar. Zar drops his gloves too. He was my biggest rival in Anaheim. We threw fists more than once during my time here.
Cruz has a handful of Zar’s uniform, and Zar is holding his Hawks jersey as I elevate to my feet. They spin in a circle, trying to get the best angle. The crowd is going wild, egging them on. Cruz strikes first, hitting my rival’s cheek. Zar’s fist grazes the side of Cruz’s helmet. They take a few more swipes each before it’s broken up, and it’s obvious my new teammate gets the best of him when Zar leaves the ice with a split lip and bloody nose.
Cruz heads to the locker room with a five-minute penalty for fighting since there are only four minutes left in the period. But the smile on his face and the fist bump he gives me on his way out are priceless. And the fight lights a fire beneath the rest of us. Ollie scores again before the end of the period, and the team adds two more goals within the first ten minutes of the third.
The game ends with a 4–0 score in favor of us. I don’t think another victory has ever felt this sweet.
The locker room has a celebratory feel. If I wasn’t sure that I was accepted as a member of the Hawks organization before, there is no doubt now. This is my team. I am one of them. And that feels even better than the win.
We shower and dress as a group. I see Sidney Haskas glaring at me from across the parking lot as we walk to the bus a little while later. He’s wearing a custom thousand-dollar suit and a frown. I’m in such a good mood that I give the fucker a smile and a wave, though it might be more mocking than genuine.
“Don’t poke the bear,” Ollie reminds me.
“Why not?” I counter. “He poked me first.”
When I enter the bus, I see Emerson sitting near the front. She’s looking out the window, and the seat beside her is empty. She looks surprised when I fill it, just like she did at the pool yesterday. For some reason, it’s becoming harder for me to pretend like she doesn’t exist on this trip. Especially when she wears that little yellow bikini. She has no clue how hot she is. Her innocence only increases her sex appeal, as evidenced by all the eyes on her yesterday at the pool, including my teammates’. And I had a front-row seat to that douchey waiter hitting on her and that Zuckerberg look-alike assaulting her at the restaurant. But regardless of where we are, Emerson seems oblivious to the attention she draws. It doesn’t seem like an act either. It appears genuine.
“Hey,” she says in that raspy tone of hers that’s quickly becoming familiar.
I saw a movie once with a young Demi Moore in it, and Emerson’s voice reminds me of hers. It’s naturally sexy and rough, like she swallowed a mouthful of gravel before speaking.
“Great game tonight.”
“Thanks,” I respond, settling into my chair. “I didn’t know if you would actually watch the game. I know what a big hockey fan you are.”
She smirks. “Maybe it’s growing on me.”
“She’s becoming a fan, ladies and gentlemen,” I mock.
“And all this time, I thought you were just a pretty face …” She studies my profile for a few silent minutes.
A couple of my teammates slap me on the shoulder or bump my fist on their way to the back.
I run a hand through my hair and smirk. “Nope … I’m a great hockey player too. The fact that I’m good-looking is just a bonus.”
“And so humble …” she hums, making me laugh. She pauses for a beat. “It seemed like your old teammates were picking on you.”
I arch an eyebrow, my expression amused. “Picking on me. That’s an interesting description of getting my ass kicked all game.”
“You seemed to be doing some of the ass-kicking too,” she murmurs through a laugh. “Somehow, I doubt you were completely innocent out there.”
“I just try to give as good as I get,” I reply with a smirk.
“Well, mission accomplished.” She leans back in her chair, her arm brushing mine on the armrest.
The coaches board the bus, the doors close, and we start moving forward.
“Thanks for the spa treatments,” Emerson murmurs, wiggling her fingers so I can see her pink-painted nails.
“No problem,” I say, uncomfortable with her mentioning it.
