Page 79 of Twin Babies for the Pucking Billionaires

“Born ready,” I reply, trying to match his intensity. My heart’s racing, but not just from the game. The excitement, the anticipation—everything’s a mix of raw energy and pressure.

We head out onto the rink, the floodlights blazing down, making everything feel more intense. The Seattle Storm Breakers are warming up already, their fans cheering wildly. Thenoise is deafening. I can barely hear myself think over the buzz of excitement.

“Let’s fucking do this,” Declan mutters, and I nod. We’re both keyed up, ready to prove ourselves.

The face-off for the puck starts the game and then action erupts all around us. I’m immediately in the thick of it, every sense heightened. The puck’s flying around, players jostling and shoving. I can hear the clatter of sticks on the ice and the thud of bodies colliding. The Seattle team’s aggressive, pushing hard and fast. Their fans are relentless, chanting and waving flags.

“Come on, Finn!” Declan shouts from across the rink. I catch his eye and nod, feeling the pressure of the game and the weight of my own excitement.

We’re playing hard, pushing ourselves to the limit. Every pass and every bodycheck feels crucial. The tension builds with each minute and I’m feeling every bit of it. The Seattle fans are relentless, their cheers and jeers mixing into a chaotic symphony of noise.

Then, it happens. Declan’s making a run down the flank, weaving through defenders like a pro. He’s got the puck, but one of Seattle’s defensemen comes in with a brutal bodycheck. Declan goes down hard, his body hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

I see him lying there` and my heart skips a beat. Play stops. The crowd’s noise becomes a distant murmur as I rush over to Declan.

“Shit, Declan!” I yell, kneeling beside him. His face is contorted in pain, but he’s conscious.

“Fuck...that hurt,” Declan gasps, trying to sit up.

I help him off the ice for the medics to take a look at him. A replacement heads out onto the ice, and I hesitate. “Go on, get back out there,” he tells me impatiently, giving my shoulder a shove.

I do as he says, glancing back over, and over again before I get back onto the ice. The tension is unbearable. I watch as Declan grimaces, but the medic nods and looks composed. Hopefully Declan isn’t too hurt so he can keep playing.

“Declan’s tough as nails,” Axel says to me, jerking his head.

I look over as Declan stands, wincing but determined. “I’m not sitting this one out. Let’s get back to it.”

The crowd’s roar is back, louder than ever. The replacement hops off the ice as Declan skates back out onto the ice, going swiftly into position. Seattle’s fans are cheering like maniacs, while ours are on the edge of their seats, watching every move. The game is at a fever pitch and I can feel the tension in every fiber of my being.

We get back into position and the game resumes with renewed intensity. Seattle’s pushing harder now, clearly seeing Declan’s potential injuries as their chance to gain an upper hand. Their offense is relentless, attacking with everything they’ve got.

“Stay sharp!” I shout to my teammates, trying to keep the focus. “We’ve got this!”

The minutes tick by slowly. I’m skating, passing and blocking with every ounce of energy I’ve got. My muscles are burning, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The game is a whirlwind of motion and noise, as I’m right in the middle of it.

The seconds seem to stretch into eternity. I glance at the scoreboard—it’s a tight game, and every play counts. I see Declan a ways away from me, playing with a fierce determination, pushing through the pain.

The crowd’s cheers are a constant backdrop, rising and falling with each play. The Seattle fans are relentless, their shouts echoing through the stadium. Our fans are just as loud, a sea of support that drives us forward.

With just minutes left on the clock, we make a break. I’m sprinting down the ice, my focus locked on the puckI’m controlling. My heart’s racing and the crowd’s noise is a thunderous roar in my ears. I pass to Declan, who’s in the perfect position. He takes a shot and the puck soars across the ice, heading straight for the net.

Time seems to slow as the puck approaches the goaltender. The crowd’s cheers rise to a crescendo and then—score! The puck hits the back of the net and the stadium erupts. We’ve done it. The game is ours.

I’m caught up in a wave of celebration, my teammates all high-fiving and cheering all around me. The tension melts away, replaced by sheer euphoria. Declan’s right there with us, a grin on his face despite the pain from earlier.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Declan shouts, slapping me on the back.

I laugh, feeling the exhilaration of victory. “Hell yeah! That was insane!”

As we skate off the ice, I look around at the cheering crowd, the noise a vibrant hum that’s still buzzing in my ears. The game’s over, but the adrenaline’s still pumping. I feel like I’m on top of the world, floating on cloud nine despite the exhaustion.

Declan gives me a tired but satisfied smile. “Not a bad way to end a game, huh?”

“The best way,” I reply, still riding the high. “Now let’s celebrate.”

As we head back to the locker room, the energy is electric. The win, the crowd, the game—it all adds up to a feeling of triumph that’s hard to beat. Despite the rough start and the tough moments, it’s been a game to remember. And with everything that’s happened, I’m more pumped than ever to keep pushing forward.

Coach gives us a speech about how proud of us he is and that we deserve some rest tonight. And then he’s gone.

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