Page 99 of Crossing Lines

“Yeah?” My heart danced. Laurent was right. Maybe I was better than I gave myself credit for. Fighting off a grin, I said, “Okay, so?”

“So, he’s going to talk to their head coach and give you a call.” He raised his brows. “It’ll all work out for you, Gibson. I know it.”

“Thanks, Finley.” I patted his shoulder. “You’re a good guy. I’m sort of sad we didn’t hang out more.” Shit, I was leaving a class-A team.

“Yeah, well, I don’t go to gay bars.” With a snicker, he walked to his room and slipped out his keycard from the front pocket of his team sweats. “I gave him your number, hope that’s all right.”

“Hell yes.” The biggest smile I’d had in a week spread over my mouth. There was a glimmer of hope.

That evening,we fought like hell against Notre Dame. They came in big and hard and Ace had done more than his fare share, not letting any of their shots slip by him. But our guys had yet to score too, and here we were, third period with two minutes to go and we were looking at sudden death. I glanced at Finley, wincing.

My gaze cut to the ice. Jonah had taken a hit and was down, then popped back up and hustled to Notre Dame’s end zone, chasing after Hopkins and the puck.

“Go, Jonah. Get us a goal,” I muttered under my breath, my pulse racing. We were so close.

Finley glanced at me, a grimace on his face. “Your boy better get us out of this mess.”

Some of the players on the bench twisted their helmeted heads to look up at me.

None of them knew what was going on. They’d know soonenough. Cupping my hands around my mouth, I called out, “Get the puck in deep, Boehm!”

A smirk teased Finley’s lips.

I returned it with a grin, then fixated on the jumble of jerseys and sticks fighting for possession of the puck in the corner of Notre Dame’s D-zone. Jonah had been out there for a while. He needed to come in.

Hopkins took off, out of the fray, and wound the puck close to the crease.

Out of nowhere, Jonah flew from around the other side of the net.

Tapping the puck to Jonah, Hopkins skated forward, faking out the goalie.

Jonah slapped the puck at an angle, and it skirted around the goalie’s skate.

As the clock ticked down to zero, the horn blared through the arena and the red lamp ignited. The crowd all hopped up with a roar.

“Holy fuck, he did it!” I jumped and clapped, my heart soaring. This was it. We won the championship!

The guys at the bench leaped off it with slaps and hugs, all smiling and laughing, then piled over the boards and raced toward Jonah, who was caught in a maelstrom of slaps and bear hugs.

Notre Dame quietly left the ice with their heads hanging.

I took a big step to Finley and side-hugged him with a few slaps to his back. “Good game. The offense was on fire tonight.”

“Ace was on fire tonight.” Hitching up his navy slacks, Patterson strolled to us, a wide smile stretching across his face. “He’s going to get picked up this fall. You watch.” He patted me and Finley on the shoulders.

Hammett stepped to us. “Our defense killed it too.” He held out his fist to me. “Thanks to all the hard work you did with them over the last few months.”

Bumping my fist with his, I said, “I’m glad I could make adifference.” Fuck, I didn’t want to go. But at least I was leaving on a high note. For now.

After the press conference,which we had Jonah give along with Ace this time, we celebrated the win in the lobby bar of our hotel with beers and shots of tequila. I snuck away to leave Jonah to celebrate with his teammates for the last time while I headed into a small conference room with Patterson to talk.

He shut the door behind me, then motioned for me to take a chair at the square table in the room.

“No thanks. I’m too wound up to sit.” Pushing my suit jacket away, I planted my hands on my hips. I knew what he wanted to chat about.

“Okay.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “You’ve been a big part of our success this year.” He drew in a long exhale. “We’d probably have made it to the Frozen Four, but I don’t think we’d have won it without you.” He set his hand on the back of a chair. “Are you sure we can’t find a way to have you back next year?”

A knot formed in my gut. What if Mom was better this fall? Fuck no, there was Jonah to consider, and I wanted to be where he was. “I don’t think so. I’ve got my mom to think about and then how would we handle this thing with Owen?”

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