Page 84 of Conrad

Another shot, and an Outlaw nabbed it up.

Conrad beat him down the ice, checked him, and the puck went loose.

Kalen picked it up and slapped it back to Conrad at the center line. He brought it down, the crowd a hum around him.

He shot it off to a wing, then skated behind the net to grab a rebound.

Another missed shot, but he caught it, brought it around?—

Tucked it into the goal.

The siren sounded, and the team rushed him, caught him up.

Bam.

They switched lines, and Justin won the face-off. He might have listened to Conrad after all, because he seemed less reckless, passing off the puck, working it toward the goal.

Shots, the play relentless, the rebounds fast, a scrum of players fighting—the crowd hit their feet, fans shaking the glass.

Justin shot?—

Siren.The red light flashed, and Conrad pumped his stick in the air.

He caught a glimpse of Penny as they headed back into the locker room after the second period. She waved, grinning.

Yeah, he had this.

They came out just as hot in the third period, the velocity of the game brutal. They changed lines four times before they landed a power play, the Outlaws attempting a poke check. Instead, the stick came up high and caught Kalen in the face mask.

And that was it. A minute left, and the puck rebounded off the boards right to King Con at the blue line. He nabbed it, spotted the goalie out of his zone, beyond the post?—

Fired.

The puck sliced through the air, power and precision, a classic King Con shot, and slipped past the goalie’s outstretched glove, stick side, into the net. The goal horn blared as the red light flashed, almost surreal, just barely drowned out by the roar of the crowd.

His team descended, flattened him on the ice, the buzzer sounding. Hands pulled him up, and he lifted his stick to the crowd, the fans, and even caught eyes with Justin, who lifted his fist.

And that’s how it was done.

He skated in, more slaps on his pads, and even Jace congratulated him.

He finally glanced up to Penny’s seat.

Empty.He frowned. Maybe he’d missed her in the chaos.

He’d see her afterward—would text her when he got back to the locker room.

Of course he got delayed by reporters already milling in the designated area. He gave an interview, something short about teamwork and keeping your mind focused on the win—Felicity ran them through a PR course every preseason.

Then he stripped off his pads, his skates, his breezers, and found his phone.

Conrad

Lost you in the crowd. Post-game cookie?

He even added an emoji.Oh brother. But why not?

She was, after all, hisgirlfriend.

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