Page 29 of Cross Checks

I shook my head and chuckled. “No, it’s nothing like that. I was remembering the day of the fire, and, well…this is where Hank and I started.”

He grinned and clapped me on the shoulder. “Yeah, I remember that day. Scary stuff. I’ve got a suggestion.”

“What’s that?”

“We should put up a little memorial plaque right over there. It would read, ‘Chase Taylor nearly kicked the bucket on this exact spot.’”

“Ha!” I was ready to elbow him in the gut, but then I rubbed my chin. “That’s pretty hilarious. A little morbid, maybe, but still funny.”

“Damn right,” Jensen agreed. “Now let’s get out there and show the arena we’ve still got our stuff.”

As we skated onto the ice, any lingering frustration about the unchanged locker room disappeared. Our rink's familiar sights and sounds greeted me like an old friend. It was home turf, and no fancy upgrades were needed to prove that.

I took a deep breath, and the chill of the air invigorated me. We tore into our drills with confidence and boundless energy. We were back and determined to prove once again we were the best in our league.

Coach Z’s voice boomed across the ice. “Okay, Cougars, show me what you're made of. You should be able to do these drills in your sleep.”

Jensen called out to me. “Hey, Taylor, you’re looking pretty pumped there. Are you gonna score a baker’s dozen tomorrow night?”

I chuckled. “Maybe not that many, but I can’t help being a little excited. There’s something about being back home that feels so right.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” he nodded. “This place may be worn around the edges, but it’s got our history. That counts for something.”

* * *

I was nervous the next day when I took the ice. Hank would be in the crowd, and it was the first time he’d see me play in person since we started dating.

Before I left for the arena, he gave me a sweet hug. “You know, it’s not the first time I’ve seen you play in person. It’s just those other times we didn’t know each other. Pretend tonight is like another one of those games. You’ll be great.”

“But I’ll know you’re up there watching,” I sighed. “Yeah, I’ll deal with it, but I don’t want to make any mistakes.”

He shut my rambling down with a passionate kiss. “You’ll be perfect,” he whispered. “Perfect for me.”

A little over an hour later, I stood on the rink, fully geared up for the game, and watched as fans began to fill the stands. They were eager for our triumphant return home and hoped for a big win.

I smiled as I looked around and searched the crowd for one face in particular.

“Looking for someone?” Waller teased, nudging me with his elbow.

“Maybe,” I admitted. I finally found Hank in the sea of faces. He waved enthusiastically, five rows back from the ice.

I nodded and then turned to Waller. “Found him. Now, let’s go show the fans what we can do.”

We skated off to join the rest of the team, and my nerves faded. It was just another game, and I switched my focus to contributing to a victory.

As I crouched for the opening face-off, adrenaline surged through my veins. I stared at the puck, and the world outside the ice faded away. It was just me, my teammates, my stick, and that puck.

“Let’s go, Cougars!” Jensen called out, pumping a fist in the air. The crowd roared in response while I held my position, waiting for the referee to drop the puck.

I wrestled control of the first face-off, and from there, we were unstoppable. I moved in sync with the rest of the guys. All of our passes were crisp and precise.

We capitalized on our opponents’ weaknesses and broke their defenses down like they were a house of cards. I tried to forget that Hank was watching the entire time, but it was impossible. His presence made me feel an extra tingle of satisfaction every time I successfully executed a play.

“That’s the way to do it, Taylor!” Waller yelled as I took a pass from Jensen and slapped the puck into the goal.

We secured a significant lead, but we didn’t let up. The game was our statement. The Cold Pines Cougars were back home and ready to dominate.

“Keep it up, men,” Coach Hoss encouraged from the bench.

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