Page 175 of On the Breakaway

“He won’t.”

There’s no reason for him to keep his mouth shut for multiple games just to say something now. If he wanted to have it out with me, it would’ve happened already.

“But if he does, just please ignore him. He has a way of knowing exactly what buttons to push.”

I chuckle. “I’ve faced down a lot of assholes on the ice, Chaos. I’m not worried about it.”

“Just promise me that you won’t let him mess with this. With us.”

The stubborn look settling onto her face is familiar by now. I stare at her, and she stares right back.

“I promise.”

Damon’s the last thing on my mind anyway.

Avery is coming to my game. She wants to come to my game, and it feels like another step in the right direction.

“What time’s puck drop tonight?” She finishes the last bite of her breakfast before setting her plate on the coffee table.

“Seven.”

She nods. “I’ll watch.”

I smile. “From Philadelphia?”

“From Philadelphia.”

Tonight I’ll play game three without her in the building. In two days, she’ll be back. She’ll be in the stands. The thought alone sends a rush of energy through me, warmth spreading through my chest.

It can’t come soon enough.

34

Avery

The lights glint off the fresh ice as the team slowly filters out of the locker room for warm-ups. We funnel into our seats while I force myself to act casual instead of searching for the jersey with his name on it.

The energy in Revere Arena is high, everyone buzzing with the knowledge that if the Blades bring it home tonight, they punch their ticket to the Cup Finals. Winning three straight against New York was totally unexpected to most fans, but not me.

I’ve watched Grayson dial in hard over the past couple of months, getting extra ice time for those who needed it, bringing the team together anytime he could, and motivating every single one of his teammates to bring their best game to the table.

When I told him he was a good leader, I meant it. He’s a damn good leader, and everyone here tonight knows it.

Thousands of people fill the stands, and among them, there are more Shaw jerseys than I can keep track of. The number twelve is everywhere, except on me.

I’d considered it, but the statement seemed too grand to skate by unnoticed, and I didn’t want to spend the whole night explaining to my friends why I’m suddenly wearing the jersey of the man they think I hate. Grayson and the rest of the Blades deserve the spotlight to be firmly on them tonight.

“There he is.” Wesley points down to the ice right as Nathan glides onto it. Her grin widens when he glances up and blows her a kiss.

I settle into my seat beside Wesley while Harper and Sloane slide into the row with us, balancing drinks and snacks as the crowd slowly grows louder around us.

“This place is insane,” Harper says, looking around at the crowd.

“It’s playoff hockey,” Sloane says with a shrug. “Everyone loses their minds.”

“You would know, considering you’re the goalie’s sister.” I steal a handful of popcorn out of the bag. “You probably lived at the rink watching your brother growing up.”

A shadow passes across her face. “Actually, I’d never seen him play until he hit the NHL.”