Page 29 of The Trophy

I mean, not really. Even though after LA, I wouldn’t walk out of the bedroom just because Cash or Luca are there with Lake.

“Relax goalie,” Topher cackles. “I was just joking.”

Cash’s stony reply conveys the same feeling that’s sweeping over me. “Keep your jokes to yourself. That wasn’t funny.”

I don’t know if Topher is trying to cause another fight by baiting Cash or if he’s really that stupid.

“Aww, what’s wrong Cash?” he coos. “Feeling inadequate?”

A muscle pops in Cash’s jaw. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Topher shrugs, his innocent expression phonier than a three dollar bill. “Nothing. I was merely talking about the fact that you’re a little out of your league here. Blake comes from an affluent family, did you know that his dad is a general? And obviously Luca is an actual prince. That’s enough to impress any girl, especially if they’re lower middle class like Lake.”

I’m about to tell him to shut the fuck up, but Luca is faster than me. “Cut the shit, Topher. Lakyn couldn’t care less about status and money. That’s one of the things that makes her so cool.”

Our frat president reacts with another shrug, but I don’t miss the way he scurries out of the locker room under the heat of Cash’s scowl.

“Don’t listen to that dipshit,” I say, tightening my grip on my stick. “Luca is right. Lakyn couldn’t care less about how much money we have.”

Our goalie’s expression darkens. “Right. That’s if she’s still talking to us after we told her about the dare.”

“Nah,” I say, feigning a confidence I definitely don’t feel, since I was having those exact same thoughts five minutes ago. “Have faith. Lakyn will appreciate our honesty.”

Cash mutters something under his breath as he leaves the locker room. I’d bet he said “she better,” but I’m not one hundred percent sure.

I try my damndest to keep every thought that isn’t the game out of my head.

My fingers keep finding the loose stitching on my lucky glove and I touch it, feeling grounded as usual. There’s definitely something to be said about good luck rituals; whether they really work or not, they have a calming effect and that’s always a good thing.

I get in the zone, not paying much attention to my surroundings until I spot her in the stands.

Lakyn is sitting right behind our penalty box with Bay and a couple more of the Zeta sisters.

Our eyes meet as I skate a slow circle of the rink and I smile without even realizing it.

She smiles back and that works like a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart. The fucking good kind too. Lakyn wouldn’t smile at me that way if she wanted to break things off.

Maybe she’s gonna choose me.

I banish that thought as quickly as it came. That doesn’t really matter right now, all that matters is that I still have a fighting chance.

I channel all my enthusiasm on the ice and play like I fucking mean it from the second the puck drops signaling the beginning of the first period.

Luca wins the first faceoff as expected—I swear I’ve never seen someone so good with his stick and with quicker reaction times than our Prince.

He takes off like the wind on his left wing and I skate down the opposite side, ready to receive the puck if USC’s defense manages to stop him.

When that happens and the two D-men from the opposing team catch up to him, Luca passes the puck.

I look behind me and spot Topher in the middle skating toward the action.

Our frat president is too slow, he’s not gonna make it and I accelerate, taking advantage of the fact that USC’s defensemen are still on Luca.

He shoots the puck fast and with surgical precision and all I have to do is be in the right place for it to make contact with my stick.

I take off on a breakaway, skating fast toward the USC goalie, I have no defensemen on me and all I have to do is to find the right position to shoot. All the game tapes we watched showed us that the adversary goalie’s weak spot is the top left corner and that’s where I’m aiming for.

I visualize the action in my head as I’m almost there, approaching the crease at breakneck speed.

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