Page 132 of Face Off
I’m proud of myself for not already pummeling this fucker to the ground, but I have to be strategic.
Punching him in the face unprovoked before the game starts will get me arrested. As soon as the whistle sounds, though, anything goes.
I’m going to butter him up. Let him think I’m on his side with his holier-than-thou act, then pull the rug out from under him. Surprise him with a twist he’ll never see coming.
“Good luck out there tonight,” I say, and Cole blinks at me. He’s so delusional, he thinks I’m being sincere. “You’re going to need it.”
The horn on the arena clock sounds, and I skate toward my teammates. We form a huddle, and I sling my arms around Ethan and Grant’s shoulders.
“I know each of us has a personal vendetta going into this game, so I’m not even going to bother with the lecture about staying focused. However you want to take out that frustration is up to you, but know that I support you. I have your back. We’ll be spending a lot of time in the sin bin, and that’s fine by me,” I say.
“Can I say something?” Emmy asks, and I nod. “I’m not a woman who likes when people do things for her, and I’d never ask you all to defend my honor or anything like that. But knowing you have my back means a lot to me. I’m so lucky to play next to you all every night, and I wouldn’t want to call anyone else my teammates.”
“We love you, Emmy,” Grant yells, and he tries to jump in her arms. Her skate slips out from under her, and they both go tumbling to the ice.
“Pile on,” Ethan says, and other guys join them like we just won the Cup.
“Hey,” I say. “No getting injured before the game. We have business to take care of.”
“What’s your plan tonight, Cap?” Hudson murmurs, nudging my my side.
“The only thing I have planned, Hud, is that I’m going to spend fifty-eight minutes in the locker room after I get tossed, and you all are going to have to play without me.”
“When Emmy told us all of that…” He trails off and shakes his head. He’s always been sensitive, a guy with the utmost respect for women. I saw the horror in his eyes when he heard about her past, and it looked like he was going to be sick. “I don’t know what I want to do.”
“I guess we need to decide if we care about a loss or not. We’re three weeks out from the All-Star Game, and we’re sitting pretty at the top of our division. Third in the east, but we’re only two games off Boston for the top spot. I know what my answer would be and?—”
“Forget the win. This goes past hockey. This is personal,” he says, and he glances at me. “More so for some of us.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw the way you reacted when Emmy repeated what her ex said. I saw how you wanted to comfort her. You don’t have to tell me what’s going on with you two, but I’ve been playing behind you for years. I can read you like a book, Mav. She means a lot to you.”
“Yeah.” I swallow and watch Seymour pull her back on her skates.“She does. That’s why all bets are off.”
“That’s what I thought.” He clasps my shoulder. “Let’s give this asshole hell.”
“Get him,” I scream at Ethan from the bench, and he rams Cole into the boards so hard the glass shakes.
The crowd boos, asking for a penalty, and I know Ethan is flipping them off under his glove.
Five minutes of game time, and this dude’s been brutalized ten times. I almost feel bad for him, but then I see Emmy skate past me, and I think it’s not nearly enough.
Coach whistles, and I jump back on the ice, charging toward the puck. I catch a pass from Hudson and take off toward the goal on a breakaway. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Emmy open on my left.
“Red,” I yell. I pass to her and block the Wildebeests player on her heels, bumping him out of the way with my lower half. “Go!”
Emmy gets a burst of speed, and as she approaches the goal on a breakaway, she pulls back, a beautiful snap shot that sends the puck straight into the net.
It’s the same maneuver she did on me all those months ago when we had our first skate together, and my chest feels impossibly tight.
“Yes!” I scream, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her against me in a hug. Hudson crashes into us and Riley joins too. “That was perfect, Hartwell.”
“What a shot, Em.”
“Fuck, that feels good.” She laughs and wipes a bead of sweat from her cheek. “The nerves are gone now.”
“Thatta girl,” I murmur, and she fists the bottom of my jersey. “You’re incredible.”
