Page 121 of Best Man
In the heat of the action, Sasha had looked frustrated at his own helplessness. He wanted to ease her pain so bad, but there wasn’t much he could do—she had to go through it, and there was nothing he could do to help or fix the situation. That’s just how childbirth worked. But she could see it in his eyes; he’d felt powerless and he’d hated it. But he carved out a helpful niche anyway—he always made sure she had what she needed, whether it was a cup of water or a big hand to squeeze.
“You were perfect, Sasha,” she said, reassuring him. “You were there for me. That’s all I needed.”
Piper joined in on the love and gave Sasha a hug. “Congratulations, Niko!” Then she hugged her sister. “You’reincredible, sis. I hope my baby comes this fast!”
“Was it fast?” Paulina asked with a laugh. “Time stopped making sense.”
“It was pretty fast, yeah,” she said, checking her watch. “That was about four hours.”
“Is the game over?” Paulina asked.
“Not yet, but almost.” Piper held up her phone, the screen glowing. “I’ve been following along.”
“What’s the score?” Paulina and Sasha asked in unison.
Piper grimaced. “Well. You’re not gonna like this.” She went over to the television and reached for the power button. “The Falcons just scored again. It’s three–zip.” She turned the game on just in time for the horn to sound the end of the second period. With a 3–0 lead, the Philadelphia players marched to their locker room wearing confident smiles and walking with a swagger in their step. Those were players who knew that, barring some miracle, they would be raising the Cup in twenty minutes.
Paulina groaned with defeat. It was pretty much over. “I’m sorry, Sasha,” she said.
But if Sasha thought it was over, he didn’t show it. His eyes hardened with determination. “My team needs me,” he said as he tore off his hospital gown like some kind of comic book superhero getting ready to save the day. He kissed Paulina on the brow. “Sorry, love. I have to go.”
“You’re going back to the game?” she asked, surprised. “Can you still make it in time?”
“I have to try,” he said. “I promised the boys I would make it back if I could.”
Before he could leave, she grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “You can do it, Sasha.”
“Think so?” he asked with a grin.
Piper butted in. “Ifanyonecan do it? It’s you, Niko.”
He nodded. “I’ll be back after it’s over. Tell Yana I miss her.”
“I will,” Paulina said, and cracked a smile. She could already tell he was going to be make a sweet dad.
“Good luck!” the sisters shouted as Sasha hurried out of the room.
37
Niko
By the time Niko made it back to the arena, the second intermission had already ended and the boys were back on the ice for the third and final period. Normally, a player in the locker room could hear the raucous crowd reacting to the play, whether it was a roar after every big hit, a gasp before a dangerous shot, or a pop of stunned excitement after Vaughnsy made one of his patented diving saves in net.
Tonight, however, the hometown Dallas crowd barely made a peep. From where Niko sat in the locker room, it sounded more like a funeral than a hockey game out there. With less than twenty minutes to play, down three goals, it might as well have been a funeral, too. Because the Dallas Devils were dead in the water. Their Stanley Cup loss all but guaranteed.
But Niko wasn’t giving up yet.
Just gotta get out there,he thought, gearing up as fast as he possibly could. He threw his shin pads on, jumped into his girdle, and yanked up his socks.Please don’t get scored on again,he thought, wedging his feet into his skates.
Three goals to tie the game was a long shot—but it could be done. In fact, there’s a saying that a three goal lead is the most dangerous lead in hockey. Why? Score one, and you get a momentum boost, while the opponent still feels quite confident in his two-goal lead. Score a second goal, however, and that big lead has suddenly vanished. Once you’re within striking distance, your opponent begins to mentally panic, making the third goal that much easier to score. And once you’ve tied the game, and you’ve stolen all the momentum going forward.
Butfourgoals? All in one period? That was a different story. Niko never gave up easily but even he did not like those odds.
Dressed in record time, Niko hopped up from his stall and gave himself a quick once-over to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. Everything looked good—until he spotted his jock strap, still hanging in his locker, forgotten.
Fuck,he thought, slapping his forehead.
But to put it on meant undressing and wasting valuable time in the process.
