Page 62 of The Fake Out Flex

The game ends, and even with a last-minute goal by the opposition, because of my hat trick, we win 4-1.

The atmosphere in the locker room is electric. Players engulf each other in celebratory hugs, praising each other's performance. Adrenaline from the win mingles with relief and satisfaction.

It's still super early in the season, but we've found our form and are playing better than ever. Whatever spark was missing in the second half of last season has returned, and when six players at their peak come together on the ice, there's no better feeling in the world.

"Take it you won't be joining us?" Culver asks, flicking my back with his towel as he walks past me.

"Ow. No. And after that, especially no."

He grins slyly. "You know the press is going to have a field day with your performance tonight, don't you? Or should I say more of a field day? I love you, man, but even I'm getting tired of seeing your ugly mug all over socials."

"Here's some free advice. Do what I do and stay off social media. Try it. Your life will be better. That comes with a thirty-day money-back Rademacher guarantee."

"Hey, some of us are addicted, thank you very much."

I laugh.

A couple of the guys approach, and we chitchat for a few minutes while we get dressed. Even Milo, our super grump goalie who was traded onto the team this season, comes over. He doesn't say much, but he nods every once in a while, and his scowl seems a little less scowly, so…progress? If I didn't have so much on my plate, I'd make more of an effort to get to know the guy, but right now, there's only one person in the world I care about.

"I know you got plans with your girl," Donovan says. "But text us later. We'll probably still be out."

"Yeah, man. It'd be good to celebrate together," Slater adds. "And bring your girl. Friends and family are always welcome. Our days of wild nights and partying are over."

"Ain't that the truth."

Donovan and Slater high-five, but the scowl on Milo's face returns, stronger than ever. Huh. Maybe the guy's nursing a broken heart? Might be why his general demeanor is a little on the icy side.

Slater makes an interesting observation, though. Apart from myself, Culver, and possibly our grumpy new goalie, the rest of the team have wives and girlfriends. Some are even starting to have families.

That's something I want, too.

I've never understood why it's called settling down. That makes it sound like it's a bad thing. For me, a wife, kids, a home—it's my idea of heaven. If anything, it should be called settling up.

"I'll be in touch later," I tell them.

But first, I have a dinner date to get to.

And yeah, I probably should have corrected the guys when they referred to Evie as my girl, but I guess like everyone else in the world, they believe the crazy stories that have been coming out about me this week.

Besides, Evie being called my girl has a nice ring to it. Why do something crazy like bring facts into it?

I make my way out of the locker room, discreetly kiss Evie's bracelet three times before placing it in my gym bag, then head to the family lounge where Evie—wearing her Dad's 81 jersey, of course—Levi, and one of their sisters, Harper, are waiting for me.

Levi spots me first, and when he does, he taps Evie on the shoulder. She turns around, and when her eyes land on me, a luminous smile spreads across her face, lighting up her features, and I get a rush of tingles up and down both arms.

"Oh, my gosh, Fraser!" She runs over to me and jumps into my arms.

I think quick, dropping my gym bag to the floor just in time to catch her.

"You were amazing. A hat trick! I'm so proud of you."

Is…is this real?

Or did my teammates knock me out in the locker room and this is all one giant hallucination?

Evie has wrapped herself around me, and I don't ever want to let her go.

I close my eyes and inhale her sweet perfume.

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