Page 56 of Breaking the Pucking Rules
Shock renders me useless, and without me knowing, the puck drops, and the game starts around me.
“Fucking focus,” I bark at myself, taking off after our opponent’s forward, who won the drop. “FUUUUCK,” I roar when he sinks it into the net not twenty seconds later.
With my heart in my throat, I line back up to go again after watching the other team celebrate their first goal of the new season.
First game…it sets the tone for what’s to come.
I refuse to be so up in my head over a woman I can’t have that we lose this fucking game.
There are only thirty seconds on the clock, and we’re tied.
It looks better than it did at the end of the second period when we were down by two.
We’ve fought hard. Harder than I’d like for our first game.
But it is what it is, and all we can do is push harder.
I fly down the left side of the ice and watch as Fletch passes to Linc.
Both of our opponent’s defensemen turn on him, leaving me wide open.
Linc’s eyes lift and find mine instantly.
He keeps going and fakes a shot at the net, instead sending the puck my way.
I catch it, and without looking up, I shoot.
The arena erupts, the goal horn sounds, the lights flash, and the front row fans pound on the glass.
Pride shoots through my veins, but it’s not as powerful as it usually is. Much like everything recently, the happiness is grayed out.
I lift my eyes from the net a beat before Fletch and Linc jump on me, and the only person in the crowd I see is her.
She’s on her feet, her arms above her head and her lips parted as she screams in delight.
Our eyes collide again, and suddenly, everything comes back to me in full, sparkling color.
I don’t get a chance to enjoy it because my teammates surround me, congratulating me on winning our game.
The celebrations continue as we shake hands with the other team and do a victory lap.
It takes every ounce of willpower not to look at her as I pass her, and I almost succeed, but my head takes on a life of its own and turns to her.
Her smile is wide, and her cheeks are flushed.
Fuck. She looks hot. And it’s even better because she’s wearing my jersey.
It doesn’t mean anything, I try to tell myself.
I bet she has everyone’s jerseys, and she’d smile at Linc exactly the same if he’d just won the game.
My heart skips a beat at the thought of her being with some of the other guys.
The thought makes my teeth grind, and the image of one of my teammates in my place that night has bile rushing up my throat.
I glance back at her unintentionally as more thoughts and questions race through my mind.
Has she been with the others?
