Page 31 of Power Forward

“Didn’t you tell them to get off your lawn at one point?” Kendrick chuckles, squirting water into his mouth.

Elliot laughs. “Yeah. I mean, get outta my crease would’ve made more sense, but hey, same thing. The crease is my lawn, and they are not welcome on my lawn.”

“You’re doing a great job, Olsen.” Peyton slaps Elliot on the shoulder pad. “Keep up the good work, dude.”

“Will do, Cappy.”

“Yeah, don’t call me that.”

“Why not? It has a cool ring to it. Captain Peyton. Cappy Peyton. Peyton Capybara.”

Peyton slices his hand through the air. “Automatic veto. Denied. Rejected. Not a chance.”

I snort a laugh, gaze bouncing between them. “Peyton Capybara. Wait until I tell the kids that.”

Peyton whirls around, pinning me with a glare. “Don’t you dare. I want to be the cool uncle.”

“Too late!” Elliot calls out while skating backward toward the net. He’s wearing a shit-eating grin and shimmying his shoulders to the music blaring over the speakers. “Peyton Capybara!”

I can’t help but laugh. Their stupid banter alleviates some of my frustration.

But the feeling is short-lived. By the time there’s five minutes left in the third period, I’m agitated again. I wonder if I’m like one of those cartoons with steam blowing out of my ears.

Please no overtime, I inwardly beg. I want to go back to the hotel, eat a load of food, and crawl into bed. Maybe speak to Hayden. I wonder if he’d be up for a phone call tonight. We’ve gotten into the habit of speaking at night, even if it’smundane shit like talking about our day. Just hearing his voice is becoming a favorite part of my day.

“Hey! Hey!” one of my teammates shouts as they skate past, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I shake my head. Okay, it’s time to refocus.

I take to the ice again, and it’s a fast-paced battle. The clock’s ticking down, and the pressure is on. Blaine passes to me, and I quickly pivot on my skates, clearing the neutral zone. Dallas’ defensemen are hot on me, but I skate up the right side and take another wrist shot. The puck sails into the top left corner, scoring the first goal of the game.

“Thank fuck, Jackie!” Peyton hollers, crowding me against the boards. “I was gettin’ worried there, eh. Thought it was gonna be an overtimer.”

I laugh around helmet pats and shoulder slaps, and I skate by the bench to accept the congratulatory fist bumps.

Lucky for us, Dallas fails to equalize the score, and the buzzer sounds 1-0 to the Thunder.

We trudge back to the visitors’ locker room in high spirits. Zach hooks up the Bluetooth speaker. Elliot’s the first to pick a song, seeing as he got a shutout, and seconds later, there are several guys dancing with their jerseys off in the middle of the room.

Coach Harris walks in, amusement flicking over his hard face. He claps his hands together to get our attention, and Zach turns the volume down.

“That was beautiful, you guys. When you play like that, beautiful things happen. The discipline you’ve shown so far this season is outstanding, so keep it up. Great fucking effort tonight. Let’s get some rest and be ready to kick Colorado’s ass in two days.”

“Yes, Coach!” we shout in unison.

I strip out of my gear and hit the showers. My stomach is grumbling by the time we’re on the bus heading to our hotel. We’ll fly to Denver tomorrow morning, where we’ll stay the night ahead of our game the following day.

“Bet you’re looking forward to seeing Carter tomorrow,” I say to my seatmate.

Zach turns to me and smiles. “Yeah, I am. I’m counting down the months until the football season ends.”

Carter plays in the NFL for Denver. They’ve been doing long distance since they got together at the start of the year. I know Hayden is working hard on getting him a deal with Chicago because he’s said if he can’t play in Chicago, then he’ll retire because Zach’s more important than his career. And I admire that. Sometimes when you love someone so much and there’s distance between you, nothing else matters except being with the person you love.

Something I know all too well.

At the hotel, we’re shuffled into a conference room, where we load up on pasta and protein, and then some guys head to the bar. Not me, though. My phone has been burning a hole in my pocket since I saw Hayden’s name flash on my screen during dinner.

I step into the empty elevator with my duffle bag in hand and press the button for the fourteenth floor. Just as the doors are about to close, Elliot jumps in and slumps against the wall with a tired sigh.

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