Page 76 of The Shots You Take

“We were drunk,” Riley interrupted. “We were high on adrenaline, and we were drunk. It leads to bad decisions.”

“I wanted it to happen,” Adam said quietly. “I’d wanted it for years.”

Riley closed his eyes. “It was exactly how I wanted to celebrate that Cup win.”

“Until I freaked out.”

“Yeah, well. I should have expected it.” Riley sighed heavi­ly, opened his eyes, then said, “Anyway. We can leave it in the past.”

“Are you sure?”

“Maybe we can talk about it someday, but I’m barely hanging on right now.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Riley’s hand found Adam’s, under the blankets. He hooked their index fingers together, then said, “I just wanted you to know: I remember the good times too.”

Adam brushed his thumb against Riley’s. “Me too.”

“Good night, Shep.”

“Will you show me the beach tomorrow?”

Riley smiled, then closed his eyes and said, “Yeah. You’ll love it.”

Chapter Twenty-One

November 2003

“They’re angry,” Adam said cheerfully.

“I would be too,” Riley said over the noise of twenty thousand unhappy New York hockey fans, “if my team blew a four-nothing lead.”

The score was 5–4 for Toronto with just under two minutes to go in the game. New York would pull their goalie for the extra attacker as soon as they got the chance. Adam and Riley were on the ice to make sure nothing would come of that chance, if they got it.

With fifty seconds left, New York was set up in the Toronto zone, six skaters on the ice and their net empty at the other end. New York passed the puck back and forth while Riley and his teammates did a good job of blocking their lanes. Finally, New York got a shot through, but Toronto’s goalie, Jonah Page, got a pad on it. The puck ricocheted back to New York’s top sniper, Kolar, who was looking at a wide-open net on Page’s glove side. Riley threw himself in front of the net and took the shot hard in his right shin. It fucking hurt, butthe puck stayed out. It bounced to Adam, who fired it down the ice and into the empty net for the game-clinching goal.

Riley was still on his knees when Adam skated over to celebrate.

“Are you okay?” Adam shouted. “Fucking incredible block, Riles. Are you good?”

“I’m good,” Riley said, then took a few slow breaths through his nose.

“Come on,” Adam said. He waited for Riley to stand, then stayed close to him as they went to the bench.

Riley grunted as he sat, his leg throbbing. Adam threw an arm around him and knocked their helmets together. “Now they’re really mad,” Adam said.

Riley pressed back against his friend and grinned up at the ceiling of the historic arena. He was twenty years old and, yeah. This was fucking cool.

Later, in the rowdy locker room, Riley’s good mood began to deteriorate. “Sounds like you guys are going out,” he said to Adam, trying not to let his bitterness show. “Have fun.”

Adam frowned. “You’re coming too, though, right? It’s New York, Riles. You gotta come out.”

Riley shrugged. “I’m not twenty-one yet.”

Adam’s eyes narrowed like he was doing math. When he solved the equation, he said, “Fuck.”

“America, man. What are you gonna do?”

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