Page 127 of The Love You Win

“Let’s kick some ass,” I say to the guys. “I have the love of my life to win back.”

Griffin claps me on the back. “You’ve got this, brother.”

I sure as hell hope so.

The Gators are making us work for it.

We’re up by two in the middle of the second period, but both goals were hard fought. Unfortunately for Florida, Sebastian’s on fire tonight. He hasn’t let a single puck through.

I’m frustrated I haven’t managed to sink any. Our rookie, Ryder Hanson, scored the first goal of the night, and Byrne got the second. Now it’s my turn.

I hop the boards when Coach calls for a line change, and grin when Wright snipes the puck from Florida’s center. He taps it to Byrne who dekes right but passes left, leaving me wide open. The puck smacks against my tape, and I’m flying. When one of Florida’s defensemen gets too close, I pass to Wright, get into a better position, and ready myself for the pass. I’m almost perfectly positioned. Until their right wing comes flying across the ice. Frustrated, I skate behind the goal and tap the puck to Byrne. He eyes the net and their goalie shifts, ready to block the shot. But at the last moment, Byrne passes to me without looking my way. Before any of the Gators can stop me, I tip it in the left corner.

Goal.

Red lights flash, the horn blares, and the arena erupts in cheers. The guys circle me, cheering and celebrating, but my attention is on Isla. This was for her, and I need her to understand. Tapping my chest twice, I point my stick at her.

For you, I mouth.

The crowd goes wild, but I don’t hear any of it. I watch as Isla’s breath hitches, and I swear I can hear it across the ice. She stares at me, and I hate the confusion in her eyes. Hate that I put it there.

One goal won’t be enough to help her start to understand.

Looks like I’m shooting for a hat trick.

We head back to the bench for the next line change and my guys clap me on the back.

“I want to score a hat trick for her,” I tell them.

Logan nods. “We’ll do what we can to set you up.”

And they do. With two minutes left in the period, Florida loses a man to the sin bin for roughing and we strike. Down to four men defending their goalie on the ice, The Gators get aggressive. And sloppy.

We easily maneuver the puck across the blue line and I’m checked hard into the boards. But not hard enough to slow me down. Byrne wrestles the puck from a defenseman, chips it to Wright, who out-skates their players, and taps it to me. Florida is spread too thin, and I slide it past their goalie with a perfect wrist-shot.

Isla’s eyes meet mine and I tap my chest twice again before pointing at her with my stick. The cameraman is ready for it this time, and her wide-eyed face fills the jumbotron before cutting back to me. This time I hold up two fingers when I mouth For you. The crowd goes nuts. Isla stares at me, her brows furrowing.

Two down, one to go. The buzzer blares, announcing the end of the second period. Isla tracks me with her eyes as I step off the ice and disappear down the tunnel.

“Dude. You’re on fire tonight.” Griffin slaps my back as we make our way to the locker room. “Just remember. This isn’t about you. It’s about her.”

“I know.” All of this is about her. She’s the only thing I can think about.

Coach’s pep talk is brief, since we’re playing so well. He tells us not to get complacent and tells me to stop showboating. Then he leaves us in peace to rehydrate and rest while the Zamboni crew does their thing.

“Are you ready for this?” Sebastian asks.

I nod. “I’m ready to get her back. Ready to make an ass out of myself? Not so much.”

Our goalie chuckles. “It’ll be worth it. I know you’re nervous, but she can’t keep her eyes off you.”

“Yeah,” Logan agrees. “She’s still obsessed with you for some reason.”

We all laugh at that. Their teasing eases my nerves. Which is good, because I’m full of them.

The head honchos don’t know what I have planned tonight. Sure, they’re gifting Center High new computers for the school and all the kids—I didn’t even have to lobby as hard as I thought I would for that—but they don’t know what I have planned after. I’ll probably be in deep shit for it, but it’s worth the risk.

She’s worth every risk.

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