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Hell, even during the games we stick to our own nets, never once crossing on the ice, or in the halls of the arenas. It’s been days since I’ve heard his voice. Seen his face up close. Felt his skin against mine.
Until this moment right now.
At center ice of the St. Louis Mules arena, he holds out his hand before the start of the game.
My heart races as I take it.
“One of us is winner tonight,” he says. His green eyes sparkle under the bright stadium lights.
“I’ve missed you,” I tell him.
He grins. “Do not try to distract me.”
I should. This has been as much of a battle this year as it was last year. Maybe even more. We have each won three games. It has gone back and forth throughout the entire series. We won the last game, keeping us alive to fight one more time.
“So this is how it ends?” I ask.
“This is how series ends, yes.”
I give his hand a good shake. Drawing it out as I know this is being played on the jumbotron above us and all television screens around the world broadcasting us. “See you on the other side, Ivanov.”
“Yes, Bouchard,” he says. “I will see you while I am holding the cup.”
Nikolai
As the puck drops at center ice, I can’t help but think about how this game went last year. Both teams battled back and forth, dragging the game into overtime. I do not want that again. And I definitely do not want to be the reason why we lose again.
That goal that Kennedy scored on me to win it all has haunted me ever since. I can’t let that happen again. I have to lock in and be ready for everything that comes my way.
Lucky for me, this past year has prepared me for this game.
I’ve had a strong season. There is no doubt about that. But since getting to know Ander and falling in love with him, I’ve learned more about myself. I’m stronger than I ever thought possible. More determined and in control. Calming Ander, keeping him grounded, has settled me.
Settled me right into my game.
In front of me, Connor takes a wrist shot, attempting to go bar down. With a windmill save, I block his shot and clamp the puck into my glove.
“Lucky save,” Connor says as he skates past.
“He got that one out of the way early,” Gavin says.
“Do not worry,” I say, handing the ref the puck. “There is more where that came from.”
“Fuck yeah, there is!” Danton exclaims. He taps my stick with his.
“Tell Ryan to win faceoff,” I tell him. “It is time to go bother Bouchard.”
“Oh, so now he’s Bouchard,” Tavish says. “You two have the most fucked-up foreplay.”
“Yes. Beating you will make for great sex later,” I say.
Tavish pulls a face, looking horrified. “You’re making it really hard to like you, Ivanov.”
“Untrue,” Connor says to me. “I like you a lot. Just… not right now.”
“Feeling is mutual.”
“What the fuck are we doing?” Ryan asks. “Am I the only one who feels like playing?”
