Page 19 of Gamechanger

While we celebrated on the ice, I glanced at Axel on the bench. He offered a discreet nod, and I grinned from ear to ear.

We'd rattled our opponents. Their passes were suddenly sloppier than usual, and we'd thrown their formation off. It was time to take advantage of the mistakes.

Five minutes later, I broke away again. I glanced over my shoulder at Michaels and almost saw the wheels turning in his head. Was he trying to decide whether to take a penalty or let me score?

I didn't give him time to decide. I feinted left, then swept to the right, leaving him swinging his stick at thin air. Now, it was just me and their goalie.

As everything seemed to move in slow motion, I watched the goalie's eyes open wider. He tracked me closely and then committed to something low, anticipating an attempt to shoot between his legs.

Instead, I lifted the puck gently with my stick, just enough to fly over his outstretched pads. The shot found its mark, and my teammates roared their approval.

As I skated back to the bench to end my shift, I looked at Michaels. The anger in his gaze could have melted half the rink. This time, I didn't let it bother me. I'd found my groove, and he couldn't stop me.

Both teams threw everything into the final minutes, attempting to break the tie score. My legs screamed for rest, but I couldn't stop. I pushed through the pain.

With only thirty seconds left to play, we had one more opportunity. I tore off, taking the puck into their zone with Michaels following, huffing like a freight train. At the last second, I pivoted and moved to the side, using his momentum against him. He went flying past me and crashed into his own defender.

That left the path to the net clear, but I didn't have a good angle for a shot. Spotting my man, one of the best forwards in the league, I fired a pass. Quinn's stick met it perfectly, and he redirected the puck into the net.

We'd done it with only five seconds to spare. After the final countdown, we all mobbed Quinn.

Someone shoved me hard from behind when we began to skate off the ice. I turned to see Michaels looming over me, his face bright red.

"You little shi—" he started. Sergei cut him off, pushing himself between the two of us.

In a calm, almost casual tone, he asked, "Problem?"

Michaels backed off, but I barely noticed. I was floating on a cloud of triumph.

***

Back at the team hotel, I collapsed onto my bed, and the mattress was too soft. My muscles ached, and I'd probably have a complaining back in the morning on top of it. I stared at the popcorn ceiling above me as my thoughts swirled. Without anyspecific thoughts, I reached for my phone and punched Moose on the contact list.

His voice was rough and a little ragged. "Finn? You okay? It's late. I thought you'd be sleeping off that big win."

"Hey, Moose." I was trying to understand why I called. Was it just to hear his voice? "I'm sorry. Were you already asleep?"

"No, I was still awake. I just finished watching a replay of that awesome last goal and climbed into bed. You're the man, bud."

I grinned, proud of the game I played. "Thanks. It was a little intense tonight."

"I bet. From what I saw, Michaels was all over you. You doing okay about him?"

I heard the soft, warm concern in his voice. Something about that made me want to tell Moose everything, and the entire game story spilled out. I shared the taunts in the first period, my struggles, and Axel's big boost in the locker room.

"That rat bastard, Michaels," growled Moose. "Damn, he better watch out next time they play you at home. I'll—"

"Whoa, easy, slow down." A soft chuckle bubbled inside me. "I'm pretty sure you can't drop the gloves and go after him from up in the press box."

Moose laughed. "Yeah, I was letting myself get a little carried away. It's just… you're out there only trying to play a great game of hockey, and he gives you crap. He's just a one-trick bully that can't do anything but throw body checks."

"Hey, I appreciate that, but I handled it. Let it go. I'm okay; the whole team's also got my back. Axel shocked the hell out of me, but I guess I shouldn't feel that way about him."

"You're a class act, Finn. I wish you were here. Can't wait for you guys to get back home."

"Yeah? Kind of wish you were here, too."

With mock concern, he asked, "Only kinda?"

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