Page 208 of Staying Selfless

Jack left my other crutch at the base of the stairs, so I grab it and make my way into the living room.

“He bought me a car?” I ask anyone who will listen.

“Yep,” Jack and Marc say at the same time, their eyes glued to the television in front of them.

“And you guys let him?”

“Yep,” they both say again, not bothering to explain any further.

Everyone in this house knows how determined Eli is when he wants something, so there was no way to stop him from buying me a car. In the same way, he wouldn’t allow his family to be in Detroit tonight.

There’s a spot left open for me on the couch between Marc and Cam. Mary took her seat on Jack’s lap as they watch their son play his second professional hockey game, and Ali and Marc sit plenty close as we try to squeeze six people onto a couch that’s meant for no more than four.

Eli is in the lineup, centering the fourth line just as he did last night. However, in this game, he’s playing like himself. He’s moving well, his speed matching the quickest players on the ice, and he even has a shot on goal during the first period, though Detroit’s goalie makes a nice save on him.

But the best part of the game, hell the best part of my birthday, is late in the second period when Eli gets stuck on the ice with Dallas’ top line due to an awkward shift change. He plays an entire shift with their team captain and their team’s leading goal scorer. And after about twenty seconds on the ice with those two, Eli bodies himself in front of the Detroit goaltender, tipping a deep shot from his teammate, and earning his first career NHL goal.

And as every player wearing green erupts in celebration on the TV screen, the same happens in this living room in Minnesota.

I honestly didn’t know that the noise level of six people could reach this volume.

Four of us jump off the couch in celebration, screaming at the screen in joy, hugs all around. Ali stays seated because she still doesn’t know shit about hockey, and I remain firmly rooted in place. After all, I can’t get up that easily. But just because I’m not jumping around like the rest of Eli’s family doesn’t mean I’m any less proud. The sting in my eyes says just that.

I don’t let the celebration around me distract me from the television screen. My eyes stay laser-focused when the camera pans to Eli as he’s charged with hockey hugs for his first career NHL goal.

And my guy on TV looks like a completely different man than I saw on our video call last night. He seems light and happy, full of joy, playing the game he loves.

And man, did I miss that smile.

Ali snakes her arms around my shoulders, resting her head on me, and clearly aware of the pride that’s welling in my eyes.

I let out a little laugh, composing myself and wondering when the hell I became such an emotional person.

During the intermission before the second and third periods, my boyfriend comes out, drenched in sweat, wearing only his undershirt, his pads left in the locker room as they give him a headset for an interview.

He stands in the space between the two empty player benches, with one hand relaxing on his hip and the other adjusting the microphone attached to the headset. Then he pushes his sweat-soaked hair out of his face, and I’m pretty sure I feel a droplet of drool coat my chin.

I’m a little uncomfortable sitting next to Eli’s family right now because all I can think about is how insanely sexy he looks and how I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on every inch of that chiseled body.

“Eli Maddison,” a commentator begins. “You just scored your first goal in the National Hockey League. That’s gotta feel good.”

“Feels great,” Eli laughs lightly. “A dream come true.”

“I bet. Growing up in the Midwest and playing hockey, every kid hopes for this day. Did you ever think you’d score your first goal in your second game in the NHL?”

“Honestly, no,” Eli admits. “My whole focus has been getting into the league so much so that I never really thought about what it was going to be like once I got here. But now that I’m here, I want to start my career off on the right foot.”

“Well, you’re certainly doing that. You look like a completely different player than we saw last night in Chicago. You’re playing like the guy who holds all those records back at the University of Minnesota. What changed from last game to this one?”

“Well.” Eli blushes a bit as he scratches his brow with this thumb. “There’s a girl back home, and it’s her birthday, so I thought a goal would be a good way to celebrate.”

I feel my cheeks begin to heat as Marc nudges me in the shoulder. This man, who once dropped my hand the first time his teammates saw us together, didn’t even hesitate to mention me on national television the first chance he got.

“Aww,” Mary and Ali sigh at the same time.

“This is hockey,” Cam interjects. “Pull it together, girls.”

“Quite the birthday present,” the commentator laughs. “Eli, we’ll let you get back to your team, but congratulations on your first career goal.”

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