Page 55 of Pucking the Grump

We hit the ice for warm-ups ten minutes later, and from the moment my ladies skate into the rink, I just know this is going to be a night for the record books.

The game that follows proves me right in the best way possible.

From the first break, it’s clear that this year, the Bushtits are faster than the Devil Dolls. Also, smarter and more cohesive. When Mason tries to rattle Prisha with an early hit, Juanita’s right there to help her back to her feet, whispering something that makes them both grin. And when the twins get caught in a bad line change, Casey, our newest player, drops back to cover, sacrificing a scoring chance to protect our zone.

The first period ends scoreless, but we’re controlling the pace, dictating the flow. In the locker room, I don’t need to say much. My team knows what they’re capable of, and I’m so proud of them.

Five minutes into the second, Hannah draws a penalty, giving us the first power play of the game. We’ve been practicing this play for weeks, but seeing it come together in real time still takes my breath away.

Prisha wins the face-off clean, sending it back to Hailey at the point. She feeds it to her sister, who finds Juanita lurking in the high slot. But instead of taking the shot—like everyone in the arena expects—she threads an impossible pass-through traffic to Casey’s waiting stick.

The puck hits the back of the net before their goalie even moves.

The crowd erupts, and I swear I can hear Stone’s whoop above all the rest.

I’m tempted to look for him up there in the stands, but resist the urge. My sexy boyfriend is still too new, too distracting, and I can’t afford to be distracted right now.

Besides, he’ll be there when the game is over, ready to celebrate the win. (Or the loss, but I’m not letting thoughts like that into my head right now. I’m focused on victory.)

The Devil Dolls answer early in the third, but we don’t let it rattle us. These women have found their groove, their confidence, their joy in the game.

With two minutes left, we’re still tied, when Kelly makes a fantastic block, shutting out access to the net. Then, Juanita wins another crucial face-off in our defensive zone. She feeds it to Hannah, who sends it up the boards. Casey spots Cecilia streaking through center ice and makes the perfect tape-to-tape pass.

The crowd holds its breath as Cecilia dekes left, then right, then—in a move that would make her brother weep with pride—spins away from Mason’s desperate poke check. The puck leaves her stick like a bullet, finding the top corner, and that’s it.

Game over!

I jump off the bench, arms surging into the air as cheers erupt from the stands. The Bushtits have amassed quite a following over the past few years. Our home games are always packed, and it feels so good to share this win with our fans.

The celebration that follows in the locker room is as warm and wonderful as any I’ve ever been a part of. We share champagne and sparkling cider I brought along for the occasion, Cecelia blasts our victory mix from her speaker, and we all linger a little longer than we normally would.

But Stone doesn’t show…

He’s still taking our “laying low” policy seriously, proving he’s the most patient man on earth by giving us time and space to celebrate without texting or getting antsy.

But he won’t have to be patient much longer…

I text him the “all clear” as I’m gathering my things in the now-empty locker room, my stomach flipping with nerves and excitement.

“Hey there, congrats, Coach!” he cheers as he slips through the door with a proud smile and a giant bouquet that makes my chest feel even warmer. “That was some damned good hockey, woman! My taint was clenched for a while there, but once you whipped out the power play, it was over. They were against the boards the rest of the game.” He hands over the bouquet. “For you. And yes, I arranged it myself. Don’t brag on me too much, though. This is your night.”

I accept the flowers with a laugh. “Thank you, they’re beautiful.” I nod toward my bag. “I actually have a little something for you, too.”

His brows lift. “You do?”

“Sure, do,” I say, pulse picking up as I hand over the small bag, filled with tissue paper.

“Why am I getting a gift?” he asks, looking mystified. “I didn’t do anything special.”

“Just open it, already,” I say, flapping an impatient hand.

“Okay, okay.” He pulls out the tissue paper, tossing it to the floor before drawing out the carefully folded fabric. The bag also falls to the ground as he opens the shirt, his jaw dropping as he reads the words embroidered on the back. “Holy shit, Rem. You didn’t.”

“I did,” I say, watching wonder creep across his face as he takes in the custom Bushtits jersey with “COACH’S BOYFRIEND” emblazoned across the back. “I was thinking maybe you could wear it to our first game after I get back from Seattle. Once the interview is over...” I take a breath. “Well, I thought that would be a good time to come out. I’m tired of hiding, and it’s past time the team met their biggest fan.”

His smile could light up the arena all on its own. “Can I ask them to sign my jersey? Or would that be too cheesy?”

“That would be perfect. They would totally love that,” I say, grinning as he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me in for a kiss.

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