Page 13 of Holiday Hostilities

When in doubt, act like a jackass, right?

“Try telling that to the six shots you missed last game.” She fingers the silver cutlery next to her plate daintily. “And don’tever call me ‘baby’ again, or I really will stab you with this butter knife, no matter what Jake says.”

“Look at you, memorizing my stats,” I say with genuine delight. “But you forgot to mention the two Ididscore.”

“Lucky breaks,” she sniffs, then bites her lip, like she knows what she just said was a lie. Theywerebeautiful goals, if I do say so myself.

“Well, make sure to tune in for our game against Baltimore tomorrow night, Livvy.” I wink at her. “Because I definitely plan on getting lucky again. Maybe I’ll even score one or two for you.”

Her grip tightens on her fork. “Please don’t.”

“You’d be impressed, don’t lie.”

“The word you’re looking for ishorrified.”

“Agree to disagree,” I parrot her earlier words back at her as I catch our waitress’s eye and motion for her to put the whole meal on my tab.

“I hate you.”

“You know what they say, don’t you? ‘Hate is much closer to love than indifference.’Which means you practically love me.”

Her cheeks flare an entirely new, quite pretty, shade of maroon. “In your dreams, Marino!”

And, purely for scientific purposes (AKA to see if I can make those cheeks darken to an even deeper red), I wink at her. “Every night, Lil Griz.”

Like I said, when in doubt, act like a jackass.

4

AARON

Practice runs late and I stay behind for a while, practicing my slap shot into an empty net, over and over and over until my wrist aches. And as I do so, I replay every moment of this morning’s breakfast in my head.

Particularly the moments featuring a certain fiery redhead.

Once upon a time, on nights before a big game when I was too keyed up to sleep, I’d lie in bed wide awake and find myself wondering where in the world she was. A part of me still can’t believe that she’s here in Atlanta after so many years of not even catching a glimpse of her face.

Still can’t believe that, though she has clearly changed and grown up in some ways, she’s exactly the same as she always was in every way that counts.

And her barbed insults and sassy glare still give me life.

Case in point: fueled by our earlier sparring, my shots are like rockets today. One after another after another are hitting the back of the net.

By the time I skate off the ice, I’m absolutely spent from giving one hundred and ten percent. But the “good job, son, wayto put in the extra effort!” call from Coach Torres makes it all worth it.

Lead by example.

Those were the words of wisdom said to me by my old captain, Malachi Holmes, who retired at the end of last season. It happened to be a very good season, allowing him to retire on a high. We made it to the conference finals, getting beaten out in game seven after a rowdy match-up with New York. They went on to win it all, beating Denver in the finals for the title of Stanley Cup Champions.

“Win it for me next year, Marino,” Malachi told me, clapping a hand on my shoulder after our head coach, Tony Torres, revealed the results of the team vote and officially named me the new captain. “Take home the whole damn thing.”

The logical part of me knows that his comment wasn’t a literal ask. But I feel the pressure squeezing me daily—I really do want to win it for him this year. Malachi was a great mentor to me, and I want to do him proud now that he’s retired.

And not just him.

My dad’s dying wish was to see me become captain of this team.

It’s all he ever wanted for my career. AllIever wanted for my own career. Everything we worked towards. And I want to prove toeveryone—the Cyclones coaches and management, the fans, my family, the media—that it was the right decision to entrust me with this role.

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