Page 32 of The Prince and the Puck
We were on the road again, this time facing the Land Sharks in Toronto. I was determined to be 100 percent focused on travel and practice, going into the game at the Land Sharks’ arena.
Lizzy was with us, which was a bit of a distraction. But she kept her distance, and I often saw her wandering around the perimeter of the arena, as if she was trying to get her steps in or something. She was a very interesting woman, and the more I got to know her, the more I wanted to date her for real.
But Lizzy had made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that there was nothing between us.
The thing was, I wasn’t sure I believed her.
At this point? I didn’t want her to fake date me. I wanted her to real date me.
But I also didn’t need the coach on my back about the no-fraternization rule.
Miraculously, very little of that was on my mind when I took the ice against the Land Sharks. It felt a lot like like redemption. The Land Sharks came in hard, throwing their weight around early, but we didn’t let them dictate the game. We matched their pace, played smart, and every line showed up ready to battle. It wasn’t perfect—no game ever is—but we stuck to the plan, controlled the neutral zone, and forced them into mistakes. The energy on the bench was different tonight, like everyone knew we had this one in us. And when the final horn sounded, the scoreboard backed it up.
For me, this felt like the game I needed. After that mess last time, I knew I had to be better, and I was. I stayed sharp and made plays instead of watching them happen. Set up our first goal with a clean cross-ice feed, then buried one myself in the second—picked the top corner off a rebound, and didn’t overthink it. Even off the puck, I was where I needed to be, cutting off passing lanes, winning board battles, making the kind of plays that don’t show up on the scoresheet but make the difference between winning and losing.
Walking off the ice, sweat still dripping, all I could think was: this is how it’s supposed to feel. Not frustration, not regret—just that deep, buzzing satisfaction of knowing I did my job. We did our job. The Wombats took care of business, and I made damn sure I was part of it.
The Land Sharks played at our arena two days later, and the games were like bookends, cementing my confidence that no matter what was going on at home, this was where I belonged.
On my way out of the arena that evening after our home game, I bumped into Coach. He did something he rarely did—he stopped me by the arm, spun me to face him, clapped me on the back. And he smiled the whole time.
The next day, we had a team meeting before an easy practice and then a day off. Lizzy was there, looking nervous.
“Hey,” I said, smiling at her. I was happy to see her. I was always happy to see her.
“Hey,” she returned. “I’m supposed to tell the team about the PR idea today.”
Ha. That’s why Lizzy looked so nervous.
“Well, it’s a great idea, and you know it. And I’ve got your back.”
“Thanks, Declan. I might need it.”
I shook my head. “You won’t. You’ll do great.”
A couple of minutes later, the coach urged us all to sit. And by urged, I mean yelled until we did it. Then, with very little by way of introduction, he pointed at Lizzy and gestured toward the front of the room.
To her credit, she marched up there like she owned the place. I marveled again at her confident posture—and at her biceps.
Since she’d been here, I hadn’t had a chance to ask about her lifting regimen, but I guessed she’d been keeping it up. And the dresses she wore did nothing but favors for her physique.
Not that I should have been noticing any of that. But I couldn’t help it.
“Hi.” Lizzy blushed in the front of the room, and my chest constricted a tiny bit.
I wanted to rush up there and help her. I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable or nervous. This was just us—the dudes, the guys, the Wombats.
But I understood why she might have felt a little pressure.
“So, as you know, I have been brought in to build, reinforce, and amplify the image of the Wilcox Wombats.” Lizzy was about to continue, but she couldn’t—because there was loud cheering, hooting, and clapping from the team.
She smiled, waiting for them to calm down, and I could see the applause had given her a bit of confidence.
I was glad.
“Anyway, I brainstormed with both Declan and Joey Baxter, and I think I’ve got a couple of really great ideas for you. But I don’t want to do anything without the team’s full approval.”
Lizzy paused, clasping her hands in front of her and looking around the room. Her shoulders were back, her chin was high, and I could see that confidence returning.
