Page 117 of My Brother's Teammates

Roman

I don’t give a flying fuck what happens anywhere else on the ice, that three-inch disc of frozen rubber isn’t getting past me tonight.

It’s not, because I fucking say so.

I smack the bars of the goal with my stick as I ready myself for the first puck to drop. Things aren’t perfect, we haven’t got our girl back yet, but they’re definitely better.

The escape room with Harrison was probably the scariest ninety minutes of my fucking life. Being in a confined space with guys with twitchy fists probably wasn’t our smartest move, but we all made it out alive. And we came into the arena tonight for the game, together.

We’re back.

We might not make the playoffs, but we haven’t lost our friendships forever.

The relief is palpable between the four of us. Hell, Jace and Harrison even cracked smiles earlier. If it wasn’t for the still-fading bruises on their faces, we could easily think the past week didn’t happen.

Saturday was an endless parade to the penalty box, so we stopped counting. It was as though every fucking whistle came with a penalty. That’s not going to happen tonight—at least not from us.

We’re back for real. And I won’t lie, it feels fucking great.

Tonight is make-or-break. We win, we go through and make the playoffs by the skin of our fucking teeth. We lose, we go home.

We don’t have far to go since it’s an at-home game, but we’re going to do all we can to make sure that doesn’t happen.

Koenig faces me in the goal on the other end of the ice. Adrenaline surges through my veins as the puck hits the ice.

Johnston plays it around into the neutral zone. Murray gets hit but plays it up the ice up to Leech. The puck comes straight at me, I make the save, and the whistle blows.

Hopefully that’s a sign of how the rest of the game will go.

Harrison skates back to me and smacks my pads with his stick. “Easy save to start, Ro.” He flashes a grin at me like he knows something I don’t.

“Is she here?”

He shrugs. “What’s it to you?” He skates off without giving me an answer, but I straighten my spine. It takes all I have not to look around the stands for the redhead I’m aching to see.

Seconds later, Harrison gets totally fucking dusted in the corner. Thompson for Oklahoma comes at me at-speed, but I glove down the wrist shot he flicks at me.

There’s been a defensive alignment change on the ice for this game. Riley is with Granger on the blue line instead of Harrison. I’m guessing it’s because Harrison and Riley were on for a lot of goals together in the last couple games, and Coach is changing it up, but fuck if that doesn’t sting.

Harrison’s a natural defenseman who made an immediate impact to the team from the second he joined. You can’t help but notice him out there. He’s got a lot of fucking horsepower, and we’d be lost without him.

Knowing his line has been split is a kick to the balls, but he’s focused as fuck out there tonight, and it’s nice to know he’s patrolling the blue line like his old force of nature self.

There’s an early whistle when the ref loses sight of the puck, but DeCosta for the Sooner City Slickers keeps going. There’s a bit of a scuffle, but nothing too over the line.

With a playoff place on the line, I’m surprised it didn’t go any further.

After back-to-back shots from the Slickers, I freeze the puck until the whistle blows. Those shots weren’t going near my glove. The fuckers kept me on my toes, going low. I’m up to the task, but feeling the puck early on and getting a good rhythm from the get-go is nice for sure.

You don’t want to concede the first goal in an elimination game, for either side. The first goal is so big, especially with high stakes all around.

When Oklahoma tips the puck over the glass, we get our first power play. Mateo and Jace high-five before they hit the ice. They set up the power play, circling, dominating possession of the puck, and from where I stand in my crease, playing with their prey.

Jace passes it back to Robbins, who chips it to Mateo, who keeps it alive as he plays it forward. If he wasn’t my boyfriend, I’d still say it was incredible puck movement in front of the opposition’s net. Jace and Mateo rain shot after shot on the net, picking up rebound after rebound until Teo pokes it over the line, and the crowd erupts into a deafening roar.

When Harrison skates back to tap my shins again, he’s grinning that secret smile that makes me want to put him in a headlock until he tells me where she is.

“Is she here?” I sound like a pathetic teenager, but I can’t help it. I need to know she’s here, watching, maybe even waiting to talk to us after the game.

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