Page 128 of Ask Your Mom If I'm Real

The only thing stopping me, truly, was that we had a real shot for the Stanley Cup this year.

“Jeremiah Dixxxxooooonnnnn, your team captain!” the announcer roared.

I skated out onto the ice, my hand going up to wave at all the screaming fans.

“I don’t get it,” Bryson grumbled. “You’re not even that good looking.”

I laughed and shoved him backward.

He went back with a grin, then skated with me to our goal.

The team started to warm up on the ice after my name was announced, and by the time warm-ups ended, I was ready to get the game over with so that I could get back to my girls.

Speaking of my girls…

“Hey, look who it is,” Bryson teased.

I looked to where he was pointing to find them in the stands, waving frantically at me.

I skated over to them and pressed my hand against the glass.

Anleigh’s grinning face moved so close to the glass that her breath fogged up a small section as she placed her hand on top of mine.

Merriam beamed and said, “Good luck!”

I winked and skated back toward the bench.

“Get your heads in the game, boys,” Coach said. “It’s time to play some hockey.”

MERRIAM

I had no clue just how violent hockey was.

I mean, logically, I knew the game was played with a lot of physicality, but I’d had no clue just how physical it was.

I winced when Jeremiah’s body slammed into the man, who then slammed into the wall.

Noel, who’d attended the game with me in the seats that she usually shared with her husband for home games, groaned. “He’s gonna feel that tomorrow.”

“What?” I asked over the noise surrounding me.

Anleigh had ear protection over her ears and thank God she did.

This crowd was so intense!

“Jeremiah’s body doesn’t quite recover like it used to when he was younger,” she said. “I can tell with just how he plays now that he won’t be playing much longer.”

My brows rose. “Really?”

“Really,” she said. “It takes him longer and longer between games to recover. And sometimes, he’s not recovered from the previous game before he has to play the next game.”

I hated that.

The puck went flying past, heading toward our goalie, and it was like Jeremiah had been shot from a rocket as he headed toward the man with the puck.

The two men clashed in front of the goal, and all of a sudden, gloves, sticks, and fists went flying.

I watched in horror as Jeremiah took a punch to the face and went down. But not without taking the man he was fighting with him.

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