Page 68 of Pucking Off-Sides With My Brother's Best Friend

Katarina has a point there, as evidenced by Jax holding some strange version of an intervention. “What does he say about it?” Katarina’s voice cuts through my internal meltdown. “Earth to Aurora! You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

I paste on a smile that probably looks more like a grimace and shrug.

Totally not having an existential crisis or anything.

“We didn’t really talk about it that much.”

“Well, I think you should put more into it. you know how guys are—they’ll say anything to get out of the hot seat.” Katarina insists. “Aiden clearly cares about you. Maybe he’s just afraid of hurting you or getting hurt in return. Talk to him. Don’t let this fester and lose your chance. If there’s one thing I know, life is too short because…” As Kat launches into another story, I nod along, my mind spinning.

She’s right— I know she is. But talking to Aiden sounds a lot like walking the plank, and I’m not so sure what will happen if I fall on the path before me.

As Katarina continues chatting, oblivious to my inner turmoil, I can’t help but ask myself, how the hell I’m going to navigate this mess?

Chapter twenty-nine

Aiden

The phone feels likea grenade in my hand, Aurora’s text message glowing accusingly on the screen:

“Need to go to the pharmacy. We should talk when you’re back. It’s important.”

I’ve been staring at these fucking words all day, each time they hit me harder than a slapshot to the teeth. My gut churns as I try to make sense of it. A pharmacy run and important in the same text? Shit. There’s only one thing that adds up to, and it’s not a conversation I’m ready for.

Aurora’s pregnant?

The word sits in my head like a lead weight, making it hard to think about anything else. We were careful, weren’t we? But careful doesn’t mean shit when the universe decides to screw you over.

I’m still lost in thought when we hit the ice, my mind a million miles away from the game. Maybe that’s why I didn’t see that defenseman coming, why I couldn’t get the puck where it needed to be. By the time the final buzzer sounds, I know we’ve blown it. Our first loss at an away game.

“Fuck!”

My words echo through the locker room as we file in, defeat hanging heavy in the air.

I wince as the sound of wood hitting metal clangs in the space. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a harsh glare on the walls of the locker room. The team’s quiet as we file in, each of us taking our spots.

I strip out of my pads with short, jerking motions, the muffled hum of the crowd still reverberating through the room with chants and cheers. None of that shit is for us, though, and that fucking hurts.

The last few games we’ve played at home haven’t prepared us for our first loss, and I know I’m not the only one feeling the burn acutely.

“We played a hard game out there,” Jax says. I can tell he’s really feeling this loss, but he’s doing his best to stay upbeat. I’m tryingtoo, but it’s fucking hard. Still, Jax’s definitely showing out with somecaptainbehavior. I know coach is watching him too. And if it wasn’t for the Durnan Rule, which says a goalie can’t be captain, I’d be sweating bullets. With sportsmanship like his, he’d steal any chance I have of ever wearing the C.

“He’s right,” I agree, backing him up, riding his tailwinds. Personally, this doesn’t come easy to me, and I don’t really feel any cheer, but this isn’t about me. This is about helping the team navigate the situation so we can come out the other side still whole and ready to continue our path.

“We all played hard out there. The other team did too. It was a well-fought game.”

“Yeah, but fuck, man,” Caleb calls out. His helmet sits beside him, and he isn’t even looking at me. I hate it. I can almost smell his defeat from feet away, and I refuse to let it cling to us too long. “That last goal—“

“That last goal sucked, but not as much as it will if we let this keep us down,” I cut in.

When I see Jax nod my way in agreement, I feel a surge of energy flow through me.

“We’ll get through this.” No one responds. The only sounds are the soft rustling of guys shifting in their seats and the occasional distant shout from the arena as the last few fans leave for places unknown.

I swallow hard when coach walks in, and for a split second, my life making it as an NHL player for the Canyon Bay Cyclones flashes through my mind. Fuck. A baby. That’s a whole different league, isn’t it? One I’m definitely not drafted for. I clench my jaw, forcing the thought away.One shit show at a time.

Coach looks over at me, silently observing the exchange. I don’t want to come off disingenuous, but I hate witnessing us go down.

In the short time since I’ve started with the team, I’ve made connections with these guys. They aren’t just teammates anymore. They’re friends—hell, family even. And I’ll do everything in my power to push us forward.

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