No matter what he did, though, he just couldn’t break through the Aces’ smothering defense.
The clock was ticking down.
There were now thirty seconds left, they were setting up in the o-zone for a face-off, and as soon as the puck dropped Mäkelä would rush to the bench for the extra attacker, hoping that Vegas wouldn’t risk it to do the same. They had the chance to end things here before going to overtime, or it could all go horribly wrong if the Aces managed to pull off an empty netter.
Every nerve Nate had was pulled tight and taut and he could feel the tension of the moment tingle all over his skin. Strangely enough, he wasn’t anxious anymore; he usually wasn’t on the ice, even in the big situations. It was like the complete lack of control he felt in his life was gone. He could concentrate only on the here and now.
The puck dropped.
Zach won the face-off clean and swept the puck back to Nate, who took a second to assess the situation. Bee had muscled one of the Aces out of the way and was in the perfect position in the slot.
Nate sauced a pass through traffic to her and then slipped around the defender covering him to follow up as what happened next seemed to unfold into slow motion. Bee settled the puck on her stick and twisted her body, her eyes on Nate, lulling the Aces’ goalie into turning toward Nate in anticipation of the pass. And as he did, Bee shifted her weight and flicked a wrister up and over his shoulder.
The goal horn sounded, and Bee jumped into Nate’s arms, screaming unintelligible Quebecois French curse words. There were still a few seconds left on the clock, but this was it: they had done it. Zach slammed into his back and then Mike and Lindy, a forceful pile of muscle and sweat and sheer fucking joy.
Nate could feel his heart in his throat, choking on it.
“You fucking beauty!” Mike screamed at Bee, over and over, as she accepted their hugs and adulation and glove pats on her helmet. Bee was beaming, sweaty and shining with pride and joy and the knowledge that they only had fifteen seconds of time left to kill.
“Fucking beautiful, Bee,” Nate said, as they broke apart.
“Thank you, mon capitaine,” she said, and bonked her helmet against his one last time.
Nate could barely think when they lined back up at center ice for the face-off. He could barely react when Zach won the face-off again, shoving it back to Bee, and she just kept the puck on her stick, playing keep away and toying with the attacking Aces until the horn sounded again to signal that the game was over.
The game wasoverand they had won.
They had won the Cup.
Nate couldn’t describe what he felt in that moment. It was like everything he’d kept inside for so many years was just going to burst out of his chest like a particularly happy xenomorph. This was the thing he’d been working toward his entire life and it had actually happened. It hadactually happenedand it had happened with Zach at his side. Nate had won the Cup and he’d gotten his man and his eyes burned with tears and his head spun with all of the thoughts he couldn’t even begin to organize into coherency.
The team was on the ice now and Zach was in his arms and Nate was hugging him with all of the force he could muster, a bone-crushing hug that felt like it would never end. He couldn’t even be embarrassed by the tears streaming down his face, because Zach looked the same way. Zach looked... He had turned his head up to glance up at Nate, even though they were too close already. His eyes were soft and warm and fond and he was smiling so fucking widely. It took everything Nate had not to lean down and kiss him right there, in front of the crowds and the entire world watching.
“We did it for you, baby,” Zach murmured in his ear, so soft that Nate almost couldn’t hear it. “I got you your Cup.”
“What?” Nate said. His heart was beating so violently that Zach must have been able to feel it even through their pads. It was going to escape from in between his ribs at this rate. “You what?”
“I told myself at the beginning of the season. I made a promise. I was gonna get you your Cup. And we got it.”
“Zach—Zach,” Nate said helplessly. It was almost too much to process, and for once, the emotion that swept him away was only joy, a fierce and all-encompassing joy like he’d never experienced before in his life.
“I love you, buddy,” Zach said, and buried his face against Nate’s chest as Nate’s arms tightened even further.
“After me I’m gonna give it to you. I promise. It’s ours. Together.”
“Okay. Okay—”
“And I love you. Iloveyou, you know that?”
“Yes,” Zach said, but he was laughing. Laughing and crying at the same time too, face wet with sweat and snot and tears. The most beautiful thing Nate had ever seen. “Of course I do. Never any doubt. Come on, baby. Go lift the Cup.”
When Nate hoisted the Cup over his head and looked up at the screaming crowd of Philadelphia faithful, surrounded by the people he loved most in the entire world, he couldn’t imagine a better feeling.
But then he handed it to Zach, looked at his shining face and gigantic smile as he raised the trophy for the second time in his life, and realized he couldn’t have been more wrong.