Page 10 of Busted Dreams

I owned the rink tonight. I would dominate the ice. We would win the game.

Darren and Josh met my gaze, and a silent agreement passed between us.

Tonight. It was our night.

“Then what are you waiting for? Get out on the ice!” he yelled, and banged his fist repeatedly as we streamed by him and down the hallway that opened up to the arena.

The cold air brushed over my face as I hit the ice, making a big sweep over the rink.

The next ninety minutes blurred into a never-ending sound of buzzers, shots, hits, and blood. Just like Coach said, nothing existed except the game. And it wasn’t even a close game. We were winning by more than five points.

When the last buzzer signaled the end, I whooped as Darren and Josh both collided with me. Jumping and hugging, we celebrated our win and a game that we fucking killed.

If scouts were impressed by at least one of us, I’d spend the day with my father.

I untangled myself and skated over to the glass, where Astrid was snuggled under a lap blanket with a jacket and adorable cream toboggan.

She squealed as she jumped up, pressing her gloved hands to the glass. I covered them with mine, not even trying to contain the leftover adrenaline coursing through my system.

“Stay there. I’ll come get you as soon as I’m done!” She nodded and stepped back as Thatcher and Beck both pumped their fists.

“Man, you rocked that shit!” Beck grinned.

“Absolutely. Congrats, Rhys!” Thatcher was just as enthusiastic, and even if I didn’t want to admit it, their excitement for my win meant something to me.

Jonah had stayed on the bench, but raised a hand and said, “Well done.”

For some reason, that cracked me up, and before I knew it, we were all laughing.

Across the rink, Coach whistled.

“That’s my cue. I’ll be back in just a few.”

Racing through the routine of putting up my gear and getting dressed, I barely paid attention to what was going on around me. The guys were insanely loud tonight, knowing what it meant for everyone with this win. It might be the most important to the seniors, but now the team was on the radar and that could lead to scholarship opportunities for the younger guys.

I had just pulled my T-shirt down over my stomach when I got a tap on the shoulder.

Turning around, my stomach bottomed out.

Coach stood there with two intimidating men dressed in slacks and university polos and jackets.

“Son, I have a few scouts who were interested in an introduction.”

My mouth was parched, even though I just chugged half of my water bottle.

He motioned to the first man who was on the shorter side, carrying a little extra weight but had a sharp gaze. “This is Tom Denvey from DU. He’s the primary recruiter for the Denver Pioneers.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Rhys.” He held out his hand.

“Great to meet you too, sir.” I tried not to crush his hand in my excitement, and from the amused glint in his eyes, he knew I was struggling.

Then Coach gestured toward the other man, who was barely thirty and obviously loved to hit the weights. “And this is Travis Johnson. He recruits for the Michigan Wolverines.”

He grinned wide and shook my hand with much more enthusiasm. The air of intimidation falling away to leave a charismatic man behind.

“Nice to meet you,” Travis said through a wide smile.

“Nice to meet you too,” I croaked. University of Michigan was here, at one of our games.

---