Page 16 of Melting the Ice

It was their third game, but it seemed the team was gelling in the exact kind of way Coach G kept pushing for.

Probably through all the intense practices that he’d led.

They’d come together because they didn’t really have any other choice.

Brody would respect Coach for that if he wasn’t so exhausted.

But it didn’t matter how fucking tired he was. They had three minutes left, and they’d need to keep them scoreless to finish the Cougars off.

Ramsey was on the Cougars’ highest scorer, Brody doing what he did best, which was to cover the corners, hoping that his pressure would be enough that they’d waste too much time to take too many shots at Finn.

Brody could see him now, eyes glued to the puck, gloved fist clenched around his stick, ready to react instantly the moment any of the Cougars made a move towards the goal.

But they didn’t, passing the puck around, the time ticking down one long second after one long second.

It had already been a fucking eternity of a game, he was so tired, but he was going to give it his last effort, to pull out this win.

Brody certainly wasn’t going to let them scorethisway and grab a victory from the jaws of defeat.

Not if he had anything to say about it. Sweat dripped down his forehead and down his back. He’d been gradually working his way up, with his skating, and he already could tell when he checked the stats of this game, he’d have the most minutes played since last season.

Since his injury.

His knee ached, but it didn’t feel all that different than the rest of him, frankly. Itallfucking ached.

But it didn’t matter. He was gonna make it happen anyway.

That was when the forward, the one Ramsey had been shadowing, cut over sharply, and the puck slid to him, a quick little pass that Brody nearly missed, but he was tracking it.

But Finn had missed it, and in a second, everything was going to be over.

All the forward needed to do was flick the puck behind Finn’s back and they’d be tied. Going to fucking overtime.

But Brody wasn’t going to let that happen.

He pushed off, not even thinking in the moment that it was off his bad knee, the one he still didn’t quite trust yet, and skated harder than he’d skated all game—allseason. Pushing hard, he hit the crease, and slid in front of the puck, right before the forward could flick it in.

It bounced off his stick, and Ramsey grabbed it with his, and sent it back down the other way, clearing it all the way to the other end of the ice.

The Cougars chased after it but it was too late.

The last seconds ticked off, and the game buzzer sounded.

“Shit, man,” Ramsey said, breathless, panting as he skated over to where Brody was still perched, on the ice, lungs working hard as he tried to catch his own breath. “You fucking saved that goal.”

“Yeah,” Brody said.

“Glad you did,” Finn said, but there was a ghost of worry in his face.

Like he was already beginning to blame himself.

Brody knew they’d have to deal with their goalie’s attempts to blame himself for every little mistake—but for right now, he just hoped that Finn and the rest of the team took the win.

“Great work out there,” Zach said, slapping backs as the team filed in through the tunnel, heading to the locker room at the end of the game. He paused in front of Brody. “Sick play there, man. I loved what you did there.”

“Thanks,” Brody said. There was no denying it. Every time he stepped onto the ice that little frisson of worry slid down his spine, the concern that when he needed it most, his knee was going to fail him, but when it had come down to it today, it had carried him.

More than carried him.

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