Page 137 of The Goalie in Room 1

He rested both hands on the top of his stick. “You’re cooked.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re cooked.”

“I’m going to shove that stick up your ass.”

“After a nap, maybe.”

Thad laughed behind him.

“Fuck both of you.”

I skated out of the crease. My knee felt fine. My leg felt like I’d played a full game after forgetting to fucking eat. Or spent sixty miles on my road bike climbing the mountains, training for the race I heard about at the bike shop the last time I was there.

By the time I made it to the bench and dropped onto it, my quad was twitching. Aiden followed me off the ice and climbed over the boards. Thad stayed on the ice, gathering pucks and doing edge work. Aiden sat beside me, sucking down water before offering me a bottle of my own.

I pulled off my mask and squirted water into my open mouth.

“Your recovery got slow about twenty minutes ago,” Aiden said.

“Thanks, Coach,” I smarted off.

Aiden was a fucking asshole for pointing it out. He knew it too, if his expression said anything. But I wouldn’t want him to sugarcoat anything.

“You’re push was too and you started cheating left.”

I looked at him.

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

“You were swimming as well.”

He was right. I left my right vulnerable in the end because it was easier to push right than left. And…I relied too much on my glove and stick. “Yeah.”

I took another drink while my leg continued twitching. It would recover. That was the thing. Most of the time, the knee didn’t hurt anymore. Not like before. I could walk. Drive. Work. Skate. Spend a whole day in the saddle, either in the gym or out on the road, until my ass went numb, then get up the next morning and do it again.

My knee held up through a helluva lot.

Aiden leaned his forearms on his thighs. “So why haven’t you?”

“Haven’t I what?”

“Tested it before today? Really tested it?”

“I’ve been skating. I just let an NHL player shoot at my head for an hour.”

“And you’ve been holding back all fucking day.”

My eyebrows went up.

Aiden laughed. “Jesus Christ, Cash. I’ve seen you play. You haven’t challenged shit. You haven’t scrambled. You haven’t fought like you would through traffic. You haven’t even tried half the crap I’ve watched you do in games.”

“Because I’m not a fucking idiot. Today’s the first day in the net.”

He bumped his shoulder against mine. “Your people cleared you to try more months ago. Didn’t they?”