Page 83 of Expose on the Ice

But this opposition is good, and as the clock ticks down in the third period, we’re tied 2-2. The tension in the arena is palpable, every fan on the edge of their seat. Coach calls a timeout, and we huddle around him at the bench.

"Alright, boys," he says, his voice gruff but determined. "We’ve got two minutes left. Knox, I want you to lead the charge. Show ‘em what you’ve got."

I nod, my jaw set with determination. As we skate back onto the ice, I catch Echo’s eye. He gives me a subtle nod, and I know we’re on the same wavelength. The face off is clean, and suddenly the puck is on my stick.

I weave through the defense, my eyes scanning for an opening. Echo is there, right where I know he’d be. I fake a shot, drawing the goalie out…

Then send a lightning-fast pass to Echo.

The crowd gasps, because I’m not usually the sort to give up a shot on goal. But the last few days have changed me. The team’s support – and Lily’s support – have changed me.

Now, I realize there’s strength in numbers.

But the defense is ready. They swarm Echo, leaving me open. Without hesitation, Echo sends the puck back my way. I can see the goalie scrambling to get back into position.

Time seems to slow down. I can hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears. The goal is right there, waiting. I wind up, every muscle in my body coiled like a spring.

The sound of my stick connecting with the puck is like a thunderclap. I watch as it soars through the air, curving just enough to slip past the goalie’s outstretched glove and into the back of the net.

The arena erupts. My teammates crash into me, a tangle of arms and sticks and pure, unadulterated joy. We’ve done it. We’ve won. And, most importantly, we’ve done it together.

As the last seconds tick away and the buzzer sounds, I scan the press box, searching for a familiar face. My heart sinks as I remember Lily won’t be there.

She’s lost her job because of me, because of my past.

The guilt hits me like a punch to the gut, momentarily dampening the thrill of victory. I’ve cost her the career she’d worked so hard for, even though she’s assured me it wasn’t my fault.

I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve let her down.

LILY

As the final buzzer sounds and the team swarms Carter on the ice, I can’t help but smile. I think back to that first disastrous interview, how closed off and hostile he’d been, how he’d been aloof even among his teammates.

But now he looks alive, connected, happy.

If someone had told me then that I’d be here now, cheering him on not just as a journalist but as… whatever we are to each other, I would have laughed in their face. But here I am, my heart swelling with pride and joy.

I watch as Carter scans the press box, no doubt looking for me. A pang of sadness hits me as I realize he won’t find me there. My press credentials are gone, along with my job at the Star, and for a moment I feel a flash of anger at Frank and everything I’ve lost.

But then I look back at Carter, see the joy on his face as his teammates congratulate him, and the anger fades. Yes, I’ve lost my job. Yet I’ve gained something too – something I’m beginning to realize might be more valuable.

As the team files off the ice, Carter’s eyes sweep the crowd. I stand up, waving my arms. When his gaze finally lands on me, his face lights up. He raises his stick in acknowledgment, a grin spreading across his face.

At that moment, I know I’ve made the right choice. Whatever comes next – whether I stay in journalism or find a fresh path – I know I want Carter by my side for it, and that I’ve chosen the right path over the past few weeks and months.

It feels strange not to be down in the locker room with the other reporters, asking questions and jotting down notes. But as I sit there, replaying the game in my mind and thinking about how far we’ve come, I realize something. I might not have my press pass anymore, but I have an even better story now.

Our story.

CARTER

I step out of the locker room, still riding the high of our last second triumph. The corridor is buzzing with energy – teammates laughing, staff bustling around, journalists asking questions, and the distant roar of fans still echoing through the arena.

But as soon as I spot Lily, everything else fades into the background.

She’s leaning against the wall, her dark hair slightly mussed and her cheeks flushed with excitement. She looks damn good,and in the second or two before she spots me, I feast on the sight of her body. Then, when our eyes meet, her face lights up with a smile that makes my heart skip a beat.

"Hey, superstar," she says, pushing off the wall and walking towards me. "Hell of a game out there, Carter."

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