Page 115 of Keeper
CLAP, his stick hit the ice, rocketing the puck at me.
I pushed off my far post with an explosive burst, my spent legs burning as I burnt my last bit of energy, making a desperate lunge to the shooter.
The puck was a black blur, and perfectly aimed short-side top corner—he’d perfectly placed his shot in theonespot where I didn’t have a chance in hell at stopping it. I sprawled out, stretching towards the puck with every ounce of sheer will and determination I had left in my body, dropping my stick to the ice in the process, when—
thunk
I nudged the airborne puck with the very tip-top of my blocker. The puck wobbled, its trajectory altered by a hair—but that hair was just enough that the puck rocketed off the crossbar with a resounding ironPING.
The arena thundered, the entire building shaking, as our ecstatic fans jumped up and down. The horn blared as the clock expired, and the crowd went wild in the jubilation of victory.
For the second shutout in a row, the boys mobbed me in front of my net with congratulations.
“What’d I tell ya?” Dane bonked his helmet against mine. “Hot streak, baby,let’s fuckin’ go!”
***
After post-game breakdown and media interviews, we hit the showers. The boys were wanting to head out together for dinner and maybe a little fun afterward, but I had other plans.
“Can’t, boys, I’m having dinner with Ainsley tonight.”
The reaction was something like out of a high school locker room:
“Oooooooooo, Ainsley!!”
“Ow ow!”
“Don’t go gettin’ all pussy whipped on us now, Vaughnsy!”
With a towel wrapped around my midsection, I hurried back to my stall and powered on my phone. A text from Ainsley told me I could reach her on Emma’s phone, or any of the other girls’. Figuring her battery died, I called Emma.
Emma answered and passed the phone to Ainsley. She was with all the other WAGs, down the hall in the family area.
“We’re getting dressed,” I said. “I’ll be over there in a few.”
“Okay,” she said.
I couldn’t help but notice she didn’t sound nearly as pumped as I’d expected.
“We’re still on for dinner, aren’t we?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said, almost uncertainly. “Yeah, if you still want.”
“Of course I want to,” I said. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“You haven’t heard?”
“Heard what?” I asked.
Her nervousgulpwas audible over the phone. “We’ll talk when you’re out, okay?”
Uh oh.I didn’t like the sound of that.
“Okay,” I said. “See you in a few, I guess.”
I hung up and stared at my phone.
What’s wrong?
