Page 142 of Defensive Zone

Chapter 26

Max rolled his shoulders and tried to push back some of the tension. They were about to start game seven. This was it. Winner take all. He was either kissing the Cup tonight or wallowing in a bottle of something strong. They’d managed to win game five at home, then lost game six in a grueling overtime. Fucking thirty seconds left in OT and fucking Liam O’Sullivan had hit a shot that had defied logic. If the guy hadn’t been on the opposing team, Max would’ve congratulated him.

Instead, he’d wanted to punch him in the face. Max rubbed his cheek. His bruise was almost gone; his beard covered most of it, especially since his playoff beard was looking extra scraggly. Couldn’t mess with tradition.

So here they were, game seven at home, in front of all of their screaming fans and all of their families.

Seriously.

No pressure.

He rubbed his hand down his beard, twisting the end and trying to channel his energy in only positive thoughts. You make your own future. Your own destiny. And he was going to will himself kissing that damn Cup.

Not that he hadn’t done that every year. But he’d been saying it since the start of the season, this time felt different.

And it wasn’t because other aspects of his life were starting to settle. He was in love. His family was with him.

It was more than that.

He set his water bottle down and his knee bounced. Five more minutes until warmup started. He’d already loosened up on one of the bikes. He was ready. He rolled his shoulders again and looked up.

Just in time to get a face full of whipped cream.

“What the fuck,” he roared, wiping the mess from his face.

“You looked a little tense. Maybe low blood sugar. Thought you could use a light snack.” Nessie grinned, holding up the now empty pie tin.

Everyone in the room laughed.

These assholes thought they could get him. Okay, fine, he hadn’t expected a pie in the face. Too simple. But whatever.

“What have I told you guys about trying to prank me? Now I’m going to have to do something even more ridiculous,” he said, clearing his eyes.

“Oh shit,” Sully said, panicked.

“See. Sully’s already scared about my retribution,” Max said.

“Fuck. I thought it was whipped cream,” Sully said.

“Wait. What?” Nessie said, looking at Sully.

“Why is this even in here?” Sully said.

“What the fuck are you guys jabbering about?” he asked.

The room was silent, and eyes darted back and forth between different groups of his teammates around the room.

“Is it tingling?” Harty asked, stepping closer.

“Is what tingling?” he said.

His teammates looked various shades of panicked.

“Your face?” Nessie asked.

“What’d you use? Numbing gel? It smells weird,” he said.

“Again, why does anyone have this in here anyway?” Sully asked, gesturing toward a bottle on the bench.

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