Page 101 of All Your Pucking Secrets

“Pardon?” he asks.

“Never mind.” I wave my hand dismissively. The answer is clear anyway. No one puts Tyler first. As far as I know, he’s never had anyone other than his sister in the stands purely to support him. His father attended all his games, but not because he cared about Tyler’s life. He deserves better.

“Take me to the game,” I tell Ryan, drying away the final traces of tears from my cheeks.

He purses his lips. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” I raise my chin. “I want to be there.”

A slow grin transforms his expression. “Then let’s go.”

Half an hour later, we shuffle into the stadium with half the student body and push through the crowd to seats a couple of rows back from the ice. My stomach rumbles. I should have eaten something at the cafe, but I was tied in too many knots.

The teams are already skating, and I spot Tyler easily. He and one of his teammates are warming up the goalie. Two of them pass the puck back and forth so quickly I have trouble following it, before a third player receives it and shoots it over the line.

They circle around to repeat the drill, and as they do, Tyler raises his eyes to search the stands. When they land on me, they widen, and then light with so much joy that even looking at him makes me feel like a voyeur. He taps his fist over his heart and blows me a kiss.

A few people turn toward me, but the moment wasn’t obvious enough to capture much attention.

Ryan nudges my shoulder, and gestures toward the coach. It takes me a few seconds to notice Soraya in the stands just behind him.

“Do you know if she’s single?” Ryan asks.

I turn to him slowly. “Soraya?”

“Yeah.” He looks down at his hands, his cheeks flushing.

Wow. I didn’t see that coming.

“I don’t, but I’m sure I could find out.”

He raises his eyes briefly, his lips quirking. “That would be great. Only, don’t mention it to Tyler. I like my organs being on the inside.”

“I won’t.” I look over at Soraya again. She’s completely focused on the ice. She’s pretty, anyone could see that. She’s also strong and vulnerable at the same time. Whatever his motivation, Ryan has been good for me. Perhaps he could be good for her, too.

We watch without talking as the warm up finishes and the game begins. Tyler is on the ice from the start, along with the same two guys in the front line from last time: Welch and Anaheim. They’re absolute magic, scoring in the first two minutes. As soon as the puck crosses the line—directly from Tyler’s stick—his eyes find me in the crowd.

Butterflies flutter in my gut. How does a simple look have the power to affect me so much?

The other team comes back strong, whizzing past our front line and taking a shot on goal. The goalie deflects, and one of the defensemen collects the puck on the rebound and sends it winging back to Welch. A few minutes later, there’s another goal on the scoreboard.

It’s the last one Newbury scores until the third period.

Their opponents make up a goal and then focus on defense, doing their best to make sure the puck never gets as far as the goalie. In the beginning of the third period, their center flies up the ice the instant the puck drops, catching Newbury by surprise, and manages to score.

The home crowd boos. The score is tied now, with only nineteen minutes to go. Tyler doesn’t look at me, but there’s determination in the way he squares his shoulders and lowers his chin.

The score holds.

With thirty seconds left on the clock, one of the defensemen gets the puck from the other team, and Newbury’s defense line moves forward. Together with the front line, they skate in formation toward the opposition goal, passing rapidly between themselves.

Anaheim takes aim, but the goalie swats the puck away. The left defenseman recovers the puck and shoots it across to Tyler, who slips it past the goalie’s skate, into the corner of the net.

The buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the period, and the players stare at the scoreboard for a long moment, waiting to see whether the goal was fast enough. The second it appears in red lettering, they swarm Tyler. Hugging. Back clapping. Cheering.

I smile and clap. Beside me, Ryan hollers his support.

It’s official. Newbury is going through to the playoffs.

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