Page 112 of Major Penalty

My breath stalls in my throat when my eyes catch up.

Row 12. Center ice. Irene, standing between Avery and Livia.

Her eyes are on me, her hair down, and body wrapped in a jersey…my jersey.

My name. My number. My colors. On her body.

Everything around me goes silent—the crowd, the music, even the people next to me on the ice.

She’s wearing me. She’s telling the whole world, her father included, that she’s not hiding anymore.

My chest tightens, something too massive to process lodging itself right under my ribs.

She’s here, screaming her choice without saying a word. She’s with me.Publicly.

I look down at the ice and then glance at Brown. His gaze finds mine for the briefest second, lips pressed into a hard line, brow pulled tight. He fucking saw it.

But before I can process what’s in his eyes, Rowan taps my shoulder. Reality slams back in, and I snap my focus back to the game. I tear my eyes off him and lock back in. There’s no more time to think; we have to win this.

But the image is burned into the backs of my eyelids. She’schoosingme in front of the whole goddamn world.

Overtime. 2-2. Panthers vs Goats.

Three minutes left on the clock, and the entire arena feels like it’s holding its breath. I’m back on the ice, vision tunneled and teeth clenched so hard my jaw aches. Every pass, every hit, every second feels like war. The Goats aren’t letting shit slide. It’s brutal. But so am I.

Rowan cuts left, and I mirror him on the right. He knows me, knows where I’ll be before I’m even there. The puck sails from his stick to mine, and I catch it on the fly. The Goats come at me like they’re hunting a kill. A body slams into my side, knocking me off-balance, but I hold steady. I move with vengeance in my blood.

Two defensemen close in, so I drop my shoulder, cut inside, and I’m through. The goalie braces, preparing for a block.

Poor bastard.

I pull left, he bites, and I snipe it top right.

Time slows as the goalie’s glove reaches up, but it’s too late. The puck hits the net, and the red light flares bright.

The horn screams, the arena erupts as I secure the Panthers’ win.

All I can focus on is my pulse, deafening in my ears as the world explodes. The crowd is on their feet, screaming their lungs out.

I throw my head back, breathless.

We fucking did it.

Bodies crash into me—Rowan, Damien, Davidson, everyone screaming and slamming their sticks into the ice. My eyes are already scanning the crowd. And then I see her.

She’s standing, already cheering, hands up in the air.

But then she bends down and picks up something small.

No…someone.

At first, I don’t know what I’m looking at. Then I see her lift a tiny body into her arms. A head of soft curls, big brown eyes, and cheeks flushed with excitement.

She’s holding Mandy.

I freeze. Time drops out from under me. The stadium doesn’t exist anymore.

All around them, around Irene and Mandy, there are a dozen little heads.

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