Page 110 of Puck Lust

The goal horn sounds. We’re up 3-2 with twelve seconds left.

“Fuck yeah,” I yell, pounding the air with my fist.

I catch Carter’s eye as he kicks up snow next to the net.

Christ, I’ve never seen him smile so big, and I’m halfway down the ice.

I sprint toward him, body slamming him so hard, I knock us both into the boards.

“You fucking legend,” I yell, hugging him tight. “I knew that goal was yours!”

Carter laughs, breathless, eyes wide with realization that we’re not the team walking away from the arena tonight holding our dicks in our hands. “Holy shit, we’re going to the finals!”

The rest of the team, led by Tate and Masterson, flies down the ice and crashes into us, sticks and helmets flying. O’Callahan skates up to us and nods at me. I break away from the pile of guys. He holds out his hand.

“Congrats, man. That was a hell of a game. Oakland is lucky to have gotten you.”

I look at his hand and smile before pulling him in for a hug. “Thanks, OC. Great game.”

His eyes darken. “For the record, I’m really sorry, Jack. For everything you went through. You didn’t deserve any of it, and fuck anyone who tries to take your success away from you. You’re a fucking star. You always were.”

OC skates away. Carter slides forward and slaps me on the back.

“Feels good to bury the hatchet, yeah?”

My heart wobbles in my chest when I see the love in his eyes. “Better than I ever imagined it would.”

We skate down the ice and take our places with the rest of the team as the announcer’s voice echoes through the rink a few minutes later.

The arena lights dim slightly as his voice comes over the speakers. “The MVP of tonight’s championship game… with a game-winning goal and outstanding defensive play…Carter Van Kleef!”

A collective roar ripples through the crowd. People start to chant Carter’s name. I whistle through my teeth, the ice vibrating under our blades as the noise level explodes.

Carter shakes his head, disbelief in his stunned expression. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the cheers.

“You earned it,” I say, giving his arm a squeeze. “Every bit of it. Own it.”

Carter’s eyes flicker to mine, something unspoken passing between us—something that goes deeper than the game, deeper than the victory.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Carter says in a husky voice.

“Yeah, you could’ve. You never needed me. You never needed anyone. You just had to prove it to yourself.”

His gaze holds mine, heat flushing my insides despite the freezing cold temperature on the ice. The announcer calls Carter’s name to accept his trophy, and he leans just a little closer, his voice low. “You’ve always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.”

My throat tightens. “And I always will. Because I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says right before skating off.

As Carter lifts the MVP trophy in the air, the crowd erupts again. I watch him standing up there as he’s celebrated by everyone here tonight, a superstar in his own right.

A sharp tug in my chest makes my heart lurch, and I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face if I tried.

This isn’t just victory. This is so much more.

This is forever.

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