Page 9 of Busted Dreams

Five minutes.

Five minutes until the game that could potentially change my life.

Astrid had left a few hours before I needed to be here, meaning she couldn’t ride with me like I had wanted her to. Last night, when she had gotten home from her date, she’d floated on clouds all the way to the bedroom, sighing in little wispy noises when I tried to talk to her. It was odd. Our prickly, awkward, hippie girl did not swoon, and did not make sighing noises.

So whatever Beck had done really hit home in her view.

Fucker.

I’d have to ask him for tips, because if all went well with the game, I’d be asking her out on our own date.

“Hey, man. You pumped for this game?” Evan, a sophomore at a neighboring school asked as he pulled his jersey over his head.

“Hell yeah.” None of the guys knew how bad I wanted a chance at scholarship, but they all believed I wanted to be the first NHL player out of Silver Ranch. It wasn’t that I didn’t want that, it had been a childhood dream from the moment I really started to enjoy hockey, but to me, the motivation to get out from under my father’s legacy was much stronger.

And lucky for me, the board of directors for the league took Trey’s sudden break from sanity seriously and reinstated me for all games. So I was playing today and tomorrow.

The two biggest games of the season. Scouts were probably already by the ice, ready to take notes and pick their favorites. Nerves like I’d never experienced before knotted my stomach up to the point that for a second, I thought I’d have to sit down.

“You okay, man? Looked like you zoned out there for a minute.” Evan slapped my back and started to head for the cluster of players by the hallway to the ice. Then he hesitated.

“Yeah, yeah. Great. This is just a big deal, you know?”

He grinned and headed toward the rest of the guys. “Shake it off. You have nothing to worry about. If there was ever a better player in our league, I’d kiss his ass.” Laughing, he turned away.

Checking my phone one last time before I joined the guys, I gripped it tighter when I saw a text from Astrid.

Astrid: Center, right on the glass. Good luck! I can’t wait to see you kick some hockey ass!

That crazy girl. It was safe to say she was a little bloodthirsty.

Odd, given her upbringing. But I’d take it as long as she was willing to come watch my games.

Me: Coming out. You’re riding with me after the game.

I tossed the phone in my bag and joined the guys on the ice for our warm up. It didn’t take more than two seconds to find Astrid right where she’d said she’d be.

Nestled right between Thatcher and Beck. Jonah was on the other side of Beck, looking bored out of his fucking mind, but I guess it said a lot about our friendship that he was here.

Beck moved her hair off of her shoulder and whispered in her ear as Thatch reached for her hand. Okay, now I saw what Beck had complained about one night when Astrid had left to go shower. It wasn’t any fun to watch your girl so close to the others when you couldn’t join.

Fuck!

I nearly collided with another player while watching them.

Now wasn’t the time to worry about Astrid or what we would do after the game. I needed to focus. Nothing else existed for me except for this game right here, right now.

The warm-up was easy, just time to get my joints loose and my mind right. The team on the other side of the rink glared at us, two players in particular. They were seniors just like me, and while I hadn’t interacted with them much over the years other than the games, I knew them.

Their angry expression said they were about to drill my ass into the glass.

Blowing out a hard breath, I ignored them and worked on my shots.

Back in the locker room to wait for the game to begin, the coach slapped the locker next to him. Normally a quiet man, this surprised the hell out of me.

“All right, men. Tonight is one of two of the most important games of your season. As you know, the scouts are here and hoping to see a hell of a good show. Especially from our seniors.” He briefly locked his gaze to mine. “Seniors, the next two nights could be the deciding factor between playing college hockey, or floating through rec leagues for the rest of your life. If you failed a test, fought with your girl, or scratched your beloved car up, tonight, it doesn’t matter. The only thing that exists for you right here, right now, is the rink, your teammates, and the puck. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Coach!” we all yelled, thriving on the contagious energy slowing ramping up throughout the locker room. This was what I loved, what I played for. The high before a game and all the possibilities heated my body.

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