Page 157 of The Alternate Captain
“Good news, boys. You’ve both been named on the preliminary roster for Team GB. I’ve just had the official word.”
The entire room erupts in cheers and yells of excitement, and to my surprise, Bettsy seeks me out in the crowd, flinging his arms around me.
“All thanks to you, Johnny. You did this!”
“No, bud. You did.”
I couldn’t be any prouder than I am right now.
And relieved.
I’m really fucking relieved.
I get a textfrom Mike to meet him outside the dressing room after the game, with instructions to look for Vicky, Johnny’s sister, as she’ll get me to where I need to go.
I spot her when there are a few minutes left on the clock—just before the guys are ready to progress to the Challenge Cup finals—she beckons for me to head down to the barrier and then instructs some security guy to let me through.
The stench of cold and sweat hits my nose, but it’s one of the few times where I can’t focus on it enough to be repulsed. I’m shaking with anticipation because it’s either going to be news that he’s made the preliminary roster for Team GB, or that Johnny’s told him—but Johnny couldn’t have told him since they’ve both been out on the ice tonight.
“It’s nice to see you again,” Vicky says, flashing a smile. “We didn’t get a chance to meet each other properly last time.”
She looks at me with a glint in her eye and I see it straight away.
She knows.
But she grins and slips away, leaving me standing here, awkwardly waiting for the end of the game.
And then the final buzzer sounds and the nerves kick up a notch. Because I’m shaking now. Trembling with worry—and I hate surprises, so this is a nightmare.
The post-game awards begin, and I spot Johnny and his vacant smile as he involves himself in conversation with some of the guys from the opposition.
It’s one of the smiles he does when he’s acting. It’s the smile of the ‘Alternate Captain’—except there’s an ‘A’ stitched on his jersey. My heart drops. He reallyisthe Alternate Captain.
“And tonight’s ‘Man of the Match’ award...”
I don’t even pick up who wins it, because my head is spinning. Why would he give up his captaincy? And why didn’t Mike mention it?
I run it over in my head, right up until the bench door opens, followed by the heavy sound of skates on the rubber matting.
Then he’s there. Towering over me in his gear.
Tom would jizz in his pants right now, because Johnny is really fucking handsome—all hot and sweaty and tall. He’s really tall.
“Hey,” Johnny’s voice cuts through the music that’s blasting over the PA system.
I don’t even know what to say to him, because I was expecting Mike to be the first one to greet me. But he looks... different, somehow. And he beams at me. His face lights up. And my stomach becomes so light it’s floating.
He puts his helmet and gloves down on the floor next to us before tugging his jersey off, his underlayer tight over his torso. His eyes lock on mine as he hands it to me, damp with sweat and completely disgusting—but I take it from him.
“This is for you.”
“For me?”
“Yeah. You came to a game,” he says, still smiling.
“I wanted you to know that I’m still waiting for you,” I say, my voice shaking.
“I’m really fucking glad,” he says. “Because I told him. Long story short. He saw the note you left me and—”
