Page 140 of The Maxwell Brothers
The only reason they were concerned was because they knew what hockey meant to me. I wondered how life must be if you didn’t have a huge family, but honestly, I couldn’t imagine it.
I immediately thought about Kendra. She’d seemed so damn fragile talking about hiding with her sister from social services. She’d had a rough upbringing, and yet she radiated happiness.It was addictive. Every time I was around her, I was more surprised by what I discovered.
The Chicago Blades’ arena was one of the biggest in the country. It was located close to the Brookfield Zoo, and it was my home away from home.
I went straight to the stands. I didn't want to go inside the locker room before the boys went out on the ice. We'd start talking again about my ban, and that usually derailed every conversation. I was here to support them, not distract them.
Five minutes after sitting in the stands, I realized my family was 100 percent right. This was going to be a very awkward experience.
Excitement coursed through me when each of my teammates was called onto the ice, except when the goalie's name came up and it wasn't mine. Jett McLeod was a rookie, and I was happy he got this opportunity. Still, I couldn't say I didn't wish I was there instead of him.
I sat back down, happy that the fans were giving me my space. I’d signed some autographs before the game started and promised to take pictures with them afterward. I just asked them to let me watch the game, and they obliged. I loved the fans. Seeing their passion for the game was the best part of being on the bench. It eased the fact that I wasn't on the ice, but only a bit. I was craving to get back out there, defending the net.
Once all twelve players were on the ice, the game began. Adrenaline pumped through my veins while I watched Jett and the rest of my teammates. Everyone was in top shape, and the game was fucking beautiful. That itch to be back on the ice was stronger than ever.
Almost three hours later, the Chicago Blades scored their first victory of the season, and I was damn proud.
All my teammates went to the locker room, and I went down to talk to them.
"Congratulations, man," I told Jett. “You played an excellent game." I meant every word. Yes, I was pissed that I wasn't out there on the ice, but that didn't mean I wasn't happy for him.
He nodded. "Thanks, man. That’s a lot coming from you, but I'm sure you'll be back in no time."
"I'm not so sure about that, but while I'm gone, make sure you kick ass. We have to take the Stanley Cup this year too."
"I'm on it," he said. His smile was more confident now.
I turned to my team captain, Steve. "Great job, all of you."
"Next time, come in the locker room before we go out to play."
"I didn't want to mess up the team’s concentration."
He frowned. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Come with us to celebrate?"
"I have to go back to the stands. I promised the fans I'd sign everything they have for me if they let me watch the game without bothering me. I arrived too late, and I didn’t get to sign too many before the game."
He looked over my shoulder. "Dude, you're going to be there for an hour."
I liked signing autographs. Our captain was a tactical genius and an excellent player on the ice, but he wasn't one to smile for the cameras or the fans.
"I don't mind," I assured him.
After the team went to the showers, I went back to the stadium seats where I told everyone to meet me.
"Okay, who's got something for me to sign?" I asked with a wide smile.
I wasn't doing this to please management. I wasn't exactly a people-pleaser. I did it for the fans. I signed a T-shirt, caps, morecaps, pictures, a scrap of paper, and then a blonde approached me, rolling her shoulders. I cocked a brow.
She drew her hand across her chest. "Can you please sign it here?"
"I don't sign body parts," I said.
"Oh, come on, please? Just for me? Just this once? No one will know."
"Everyone will know. The stands are full."
She smiled, coming closer.
