Page 101 of Pucking Revenge

I edited my bio and listed my status as her boyfriend, replacing what used to say starting goalie for the Boston Bolts. Then I forced her to airdrop the photo of me kissing her cheek and uploaded it with a caption that read Instagram Official.

The smile she wore makes all the ribbing I’ll get worth it. We spent three days just hanging out. She’d go to work, and I’d go to practice, then we’d order food or make dinner together.

Inevitably we’d end up back in bed, naked and exploring one another, but we haven’t taken things any further than we did in the announcer’s booth. I’m in no rush. If I have my way, we’ll have plenty of time for everything, and I want to savor each step.

My little brother nudges me. “Proud of you.” For all of Aiden’s bullshit, the kid loves love. He deserves it more than anyone too.

“Thanks. Now will you sing so they get off my back?”

With a laugh, he jumps up onto the bench, and after one deep breath in, starts his own rendition of the theme song from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.

“Men, I’d like to tell you a story all about how

The Bolts gonna turn this season around

It involves number thirteen

Standing right there

And the woman he calls Pumpkin that the rest of us call Sar…”

All around, the guys are hooting and hollering. A deep sense of satisfaction washes over me as I watch my little brother entertain us all.

He just might be right. I have a feeling tonight is the beginning of our comeback.

The chanting inside the arena as we make our way down the tunnel is louder than normal, more electric. Even the fans know tonight is gonna be our night.

I stayed at Sara’s last night, so it’s only been hours since I last saw her, yet as I hit the ice for warm-ups and I eagerly search the stands for her, my heart is thumping against my sternum. War skates up on my left and nudges me. Then he uses his stick to point toward the players’ bench. There, in my jersey, is my girlfriend. But she’s made one drastic change since I left her this morning.

“Fuck. Did she dye her hair blue?” War heaves a laugh.

I’m already skating toward her, with him on my heels. She’s wearing the damn Brooks’s Bunny beanie she loves so much, and beneath it, her hair is Smurf blue.

Before I can get to the boards, Coach is hollering at me. I tune him out and point my hockey stick at Sara. Then I drop to the ice to start my hundred. War circles me once and darts over to the bench. A minute later, he’s depositing Sara on my back.

This might as well be an official part of the Bolts’ warm-ups from here on out. Fans eat it up, and Gavin is all about it. Seb can fuck himself if he thinks this will stop anytime soon.

Once Sara settles on my back, the crowd starts counting. Her bright smile lights up the arena from every screen in the place. From here, even I can see her. I keep my focus fixed on her gorgeous face as I go, and I don’t even feel the burn as I push up and down.

War helps her off as soon as I hit one hundred, then I haul myself up, snagging my stick on the way.

“What’d you do, crazy girl?”

She toys with the tips and tilts her head. “Like it?”

“As if you could possibly look anything but gorgeous.”I brush a thumb over her cheek.

“Sebastian lost his mind when he saw it,” she says with a conspiratorial giggle. “We’re wearing him down, Saint.”

All I can do is laugh. I’m not sure her hair color is going to push Seb to quit, but I do enjoy the enthusiasm.

“And now my hair matches your bedazzled penises!”

Beside me, War grunts and almost loses his balance. He rights himself, drops his stick, and puts his hands on his waist. “Dude, you said you’d never tell!”

Sara slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyes blowing wide.

“Fuck, crazy girl. Go watch the game before you cause more trouble.”

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