Page 78 of They All Puck Me

And Olivia? She’ll be there to see us win it all.

The clock ticks down, each second a hammering heartbeat in my ears. We’re tied, and the tension on the ice is suffocating. The other team’s forward barrels toward our goal, eyes locked on the net. I’m too far to intercept, but Liam, our rock, our captain, is in position.

Liam moves with a grace that belies his size, a hulking shadow ready to strike. He skates hard, meeting the forward head-on. The clash is brutal; sticks clatter, bodies collide. The forward tries to shoot, but Liam's there, blocking the puck with his body. It ricochets off his shin guard and skids across the ice.

“Clear it!” he shouts, his voice a command that brooks no hesitation.

Noah’s on it in an instant, his stick catching the puck with practiced ease. He starts up the ice, weaving through defenders like they’re standing still. My eyes scan the rink, looking for my opening.

“Ethan!” Noah yells, his voice cutting through the chaos.

I see it – a gap in their defense. I dig my blades into the ice and sprint toward it. Noah trusts me with this pass; I can feel it in every muscle of his movement as he sends the puck my way instead of taking the shot himself.

Time slows as I receive the puck. The arena's roar fades to a distant hum. My entire focus narrows to this moment – this shot.

I shift my weight and draw back my stick. The goalie’s eyes widen as he realizes what’s coming, but he’s too late.

The puck leaves my stick with a blistering slapshot that feels like an extension of my very soul. It flies through the air with deadly precision and slams into the back of the net just as the buzzer sounds.

For a split second, there's silence – then pandemonium erupts.

We did it.

We won the Stanley Cup.

Noah’s arms wrap around me first, his laugh ringing in my ears as we spin on the ice. “Hell yeah, Ethan! That was beautiful!”

Liam joins us next, pulling us both into a bear hug that nearly crushes my ribs but feels like victory incarnate. “Damn good work,” he growls into my ear before letting out a whoop of triumph.

Our teammates swarm us, everyone shouting and celebrating in a blur of exhilaration and relief. Amidst it all, I catch sight of Olivia in the stands, her face alight with pride and joy.

She mouths one word: “Unstoppable.”

And for once in my life, I believe it completely.

31

LIAM

The rink is in complete chaos. Confetti rains down like a snowstorm, and the roar of the crowd is deafening. My heart pounds in my chest as I hold the Stanley Cup, its weight a solid reminder that this isn't a dream.

Noah's beside me, grinning like a kid who just got his first pair of skates. "Can you believe it, man? We did it!"

Ethan's on my other side, his usual brooding expression replaced with a rare smile. "Hell yeah, we did," he says, lifting the Cup higher with me.

"We're fucking champions!" I shout, and the words feel like an electric current running through me.

Noah laughs, shaking his head. "And you said we were underdogs."

"Underdogs my ass," Ethan grunts. "We showed them."

The three of us hold the Cup high together, the culmination of years of blood, sweat, and more than a few broken bones. The lights flash as photographers capture our moment of triumph. It's surreal.

As the celebration swirls around us, I spot Olivia making her way onto the ice, her eyes sparkling with excitement. My heart skips a beat.

"Hey, Noah, Ethan," I call out, pointing in her direction. "Look who's here."

They turn to see Olivia, and we skate over to meet her. As soon as we reach her, she jumps into our arms, wrapping herself around me first. I hold her tightly, reveling in the feel of her against me.

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