Page 146 of Breaking Away

He doesn’t let me pull away.

I don’t want to.

60

DMITRI

“Are you sure?”Coach Forrester asks me.

“I’m sure.” The words are chewed out of me.

It’s the fourth game in the series, and I’m sitting on the bench watching, not playing on the ice. My knee needs time to recover. If I push it harder tonight, it will be in shambles for the rest of the series.

Coach Forrester flattens his mouth. He’s been cooperative so far about my injury, but this is where he can change his mind, saying the owners will sell me if I don’t play.

I suck in a deep breath to center myself.

When that doesn’t help much, my eyes find her in the stands.Kavi.

She waves.

My pulse evens.

I know what I’ll do if he pushes. Hockey means so much to me. It’s given me and my dad purpose for so long, but it’s not everything.

I won’t risk hurting myself permanently. I’ll say no.

Hughes is beside me on the bench. He moves his stick from one hand to the other. “If Lokhov needs to rest his knee, that’s what he should do.”

Forrester studies us and then notices the rest of the team nodding. His frown is a mixture of amusement and frustration. “I wanted teamwork… and now I’ve got it. Fine. Recover. We need you to help us win the rest of the series.”

My knuckles crack. “I will. But we’ll win tonight, too. Our team has this.”

They do.

We eke out a win, which means the series is tied.

It’s 2-2.

The first team to four wins gets the Cup.

61

KAVI

Perry Basra has walkedinto the arena dressing room I’m in. My dad is short, has visibly thinning hair, and strong, stretched-out eyebrows. The hook of his nose carries weight, lean and sharp. His eyes are always assessing, snapping around the room as if downloading data.

Spotting me, his shoulders go rigid.

“Dad?” I blink. “What are you doing here?”

“Me?Youshouldn’t be in here.”

I look at the badge hanging around my neck and the camera in my hands. “I’m allowed.”

“No, Kavleen. Not aroundmyteam. I don’t give you permission to click your photos around them. It’s a distraction. Not important, especially right now. You need to leave.”

“I think… you’re in the wrong area,” I say dully. I point to the sign above the door behind him. It’s happened before. In large buildings, my dad gets turned around. “This is the Wings’ area, not the visiting team’s dressing room.”

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