Page 26 of Make Your Play

She purses her lips, giving me a knowing look. “Not many people can say they were alive to see their great-grandchild beborn, let alone getting to watch them grow up.” She gives me a small smile, but there’s a sadness to it. “Sometimes it feels like I’ve lived multiple lifetimes and too many of them have been without Lorenzo.”

Lorenzo is her late husband who was taken too soon. He was Nonna’s partner in crime and her best friend. It’s been at least ten years since he passed away, but I still remember the way he used to look at her. That man looked at her as if she hung the sun in the sky.

“He’s the one thing that makes me look forward to whatever comes after this life.” Her eyes grow misty, yet wistful as she stares at me. “I’m not ready to go anytime soon, but it’s comforting knowing that when my time is over here, he’ll be waiting for me.”

“I can’t even imagine,” I tell her, my own throat growing thick with emotion as I feel her sorrow seeping into my bones. “I’m sorry, Nonna.”

“Don’t be sorry, honey. It’s all a part of life.” She waves her hand at me and then reaches for mine, giving me a gentle squeeze. “Just promise me you’ll do something for me.”

“Of course,” I tell her, nodding as I hold on to her hand.

“When you find the one who makes your heart sing, hold on to him and don’t let go.” She pauses as she looks at me with her soft and kind eyes. “Life is such a precarious thing that we never truly know how much time we have with the ones we love. Hold on to him and let him love you, because there’s something indescribable about loving someone while being loved.”

I stare at her for a moment, my eyes bouncing back and forth between hers as I let her words sink into my soul. “What if I never find him?”

“I promise you will,” she says softly, a smile finding her lips once more. “He’s already there, Riley.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

NASH

“Nash, net! Net!”

I glance across the ice to where Carson’s skating along the boards. A defenseman is coming directly at him and he quickly sends the puck to me. The pass is effortless and I receive it with the toe of my stick just as I’m nearing the net. The goalie gets into position. I move to the right and he shifts with me. He’s not anticipating my movements and he drops down just as I quickly divert to the left and send the puck soaring into the net with a backhanded shot.

“Fuck yes!”

Carson crashes into me, his hand hitting the top of my helmet. “That’s my fucking Nashy boy!”

The rest of my linemen rush over to me, everyone celebrating my goal before I head over to the bench and skate past the rest of the guys, my glove hitting each of theirs. I move to the door and let myself in as we change shifts.

Coach Landry gives me a nod, his face as straight as always, but I don’t miss the way he holds back a smile. It was a nice goal, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter how pretty the shot is. A goal is a goal and we need as many as we can to seal the deal. Hockey is way too fast and too competitive of a sport to getcomfortable and complacent. That’s when things always seem to shift and go downhill.

We finish out the rest of the period with a two-goal lead before heading back into the dressing room. We all find our spots and sit down on the benches. I untie my skates, letting my feet breathe before I start to do a few stretches. A few of the guys eat a quick snack as Caleb, our captain, starts to talk, along with our coaches.

They go over some plays, Caleb gives us all a pep talk, and it isn’t long before we’re all heading back out to the bench for the last period. Our first line heads out, the puck drops, and play begins again. Sitting on the bench, I lean against the boards, watching everything happening on the ice. The first shift ends and Carson and I head out right after one another.

I skate past Rowan and his face is all business as he watches the play moving back into the neutral zone. I follow along, staying on my side as the puck gets turned over and play heads back into our defensive zone. Our defensemen make their way closer to the net, giving Rowan the backup he needs. The puck moves along the boards, moving behind the net before it ends up heading in my direction.

My feet move and I head toward it, attempting to take possession of it, but their winger pushes me against the boards as we both fight for it. He digs, pushing me harder against the boards, trapping my stick so I have no way to efficiently win the battle. He regains possession and sends it back across the ice to one of their players.

I move into a defensive position and just as I’m inching closer to the net, the other player hits a slapshot, sending it zipping through the air and landing directly into my ankle bone. Pain erupts along the bone and it takes everything in me to not drop to the ice. My vision blurs and I struggle against the searing heat at the base of my leg, but I can’t get out of position.

I can’t get off the ice, not now when they’re in our defensive zone. The adrenaline in my body kicks into overdrive and I push through the pain, although I have no idea what the fuck is actually going on around me. My legs move on autopilot and as soon as play moves back down the ice, I head to the bench, half limping.

“Are you good to keep playing?”

I look at the equipment manager, my ankle fucking throbbing as I attempt to put all my weight on that foot. “I don’t fucking know. I need a minute.”

“Get Simmons back there now!” Coach Landry barks from where he’s standing.

The assistant equipment manager slides his arm around my back to give me extra support as we head down the tunnel. He gets me into the doctors’ room and both doctors step inside the space. It’s a whirlwind of activity as they pull off my skate, along with my sock, to inspect the area. It’s already starting to swell and my skin looks fucking angry.

The poking and prodding send my senses into a spiral of pain.

“We need to get X-rays. It may be broken and I don’t think he should play until we know for sure.”

I shake my head, gritting my teeth. “I can get through the rest of the period. It will be fine.”

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