Page 93 of His Jersey

Even though I know she’s referring to the home viewing, something unsettles my stomach. I have a hunch we didn’t just hightail it out of there because I’m newly engaged to one of the hockey’s hot shots, earning the ire of the puck bunnies who’d hoped would be the future Mrs. Bouchelle. Little do they know it’s all for show.

Leah fiddles nervously with her keychain, which is a collection of Knights merch.

I arch an eyebrow. “So, you said you had something you want to tell me?”

She dramatically thrusts her head against the back of the seat. “I can’t keep it in anymore. Never trust me with your deepest, darkest secrets.”

My eyes widen. I’m about to tell her that I don’t have any of those, but I do.

She turns to me and says, “After the game the other night, Jack went to a party and this happened.” She angles her phone so I can see a video of a dimly lit club. The angle is odd, but there’s no mistaking Jack’s profile as two women approach him, draping themselves all over his body before it loops back to the beginning over and over again.

Never mind having a cold. I feel like I’m going to be sick.

36

JACK

Even though a fewof my fellow teammates have some unique pregame rituals, everyone is chill and chatting as if we’re not about to hit the ice against a top opponent.

Again, I cannot help but contrast this to the locker room atmosphere for my near-decade with the Storm.

Coach Badaszek comes in on a cool breeze, looks at his clipboard, and says, “This is where preparation meets opportunity. We have our sniper.” He nods at me. “But all of you are his eyes. Your communication at practice is clutch. You’ve trained and are ready. Now, go win.”

And that’s it. No long rambling and somewhat incoherent speech from Remy about how we’re all stars, but if we don’t win, we’re a bunch of losers. I’m pretty sure he’d patched together various pep talks from sports films.

Coach Badaszek knows what he’s doing and leads us in such a way that prepares us well and suggests he trusts us. Conveniently, I’m in the opening line and when the puck drops, I’m on it.

I get a slapshot nearly out of the gate, scoring one for theteam. The arena goes wild and the commentators are generous. By the second period, we’re tied with the Denver Blizzard. They play mid with a strong defense, but their wings are weak, fumbling their forechecks and flying solo rather than tucking into the pocket with the rest of the team.

As for us, the only hiccup comes in the last third of the second period when Hayden Savage misses a shot, but we get the puck back and Ted, our defenseman, is like thunder on skates. He passes the puck to me and ice meets fire as I charge down the lane, weaving around the Blizzard players. However, their center makes himself an obstacle and I drop pass the puck to Savage, who redeems himself, taking advantage of the goalie as he relocates the puck and recalibrates. He shoots and scores.

In the third period, the Blizzard catches up, but we have the opportunity for a power play, execute, and get a goal, then keep momentum until the buzzer sounds, ending the game.

My only two thoughts the entire time are sinking the puck into the net and imagining Ella in my jersey.

I could spend the night at the team hotel and take the flight with the rest of the guys tomorrow, but I don’t want to be away from her any longer.

When things blow over and we’re settled in, we’ll figure out how to make my travel schedule work and make a commitment to team activities. Given the number of texts and messages on my phone about the night at Club Luna, I need to get to her before anyone else does.

Leah will run interference and thankfully, my fiancée doesn’t have social media. At least, I hope not. I take the private jet back to Nebraska and am glad to be alone because if I had to sit next to someone, even in first class, I’d drive them crazy with the way my leg won’t stop jittering.

The night after the win against the Empire State Kings waswrong, but not because of anything I did. Unfortunately, it doesn’t look that way on video.

Upon landing, my phone beeps with a message from Carlos with only two words and then he spams me, which is his way of indicating that I do not ignore his texts, which I’ve done in the past because I can be a bit self-absorbed.

Carlos: She knows.

Carlos: This isn’t good.

Carlos: You have to fix this.

I know I do, but if she saw the video, can I? Will she believe me or her eyes? I know what it looks like. I also know what happened next, which was nothing, except the video doesn’t show that … and there are probably numerous other videos from other nights before I met Ella when something did happen.

People and their phones, I tell ya. I reply to Carlos.

Me: I’m on my way.

Carlos: If you have armor, bring it.

---