Page 51 of Check the Halls
“Yeah,” she says, her grin widening. “Have you ever been to an NHL game?”
“No,” I admit. “Never.”
“You’ll love it! And to be honest, I’d love the company. I used to go with my friend Kim. She’s married to one of the forwards on the team. She had a baby last December and doesn't make it to many games now.”
“I don’t know, Beth…Do you think Ben would mind?” It’s one thing for us to work together on the Gala. Would going to his hockey game cross some sort of line?
“Of course not,” she says, leaning forward, her tone playful but insistent. “There will be twenty thousand other people there. We’ll eat overpriced popcorn and yell at the refs. It’ll be fun.”
I hesitate, fiddling with the straw in my drink. Beth’s been the first person to really make me feel like maybe I belong in Ottawa.
But then there’s Derek. Would he be okay with this? Would I even tell him? Would he even notice?
Beth must sense my hesitation because her expression softens. “Hey,” she says, her voice quieter now. “I don’t want to overstep. I know you’ve got a lot going on, and I know it must be weird, working with Ben. But you seem…I don’t know, kind of lonely. Homesick, maybe? I felt the same way when I moved here.”
Her words hit a nerve. Iamlonely. More than I want to admit. And it’s not just that I miss my mom, or my hometown—I miss who I used to be there.
Maybe that’s why my time with Ben feels so right. He makes me feel like my old self.
Beth continues, “If you don’t want to go to the game, that’s totally fine. I’d love to keep hanging out with you, though. I’ve missed you.”
Those three words are the final nail in the coffin that is my indecision. They’re why I find myself nodding, even though part of me is screaming that this is a bad idea.
“I’ve missed you, too,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’d love to go.”
Beth’s grin returns, bright and triumphant. “We’re going to have so much fun!”
I wish I could feel as confident as she does. Because right now, all I can think about is how Ben’s going to react to me going. And how wrong she was when she said it must be weird working with him.
Being around Ben is one of the few things in my life that feels right.
CHAPTER 17
BEN
Isuck in a deep breath as I settle into my stance, stick flat on the ice, knees bent. My legs burn, my lungs squeeze, but none of it matters. We’re down by two. Third period. Clock bleeding away seconds we can’t afford to lose.
The opposing center wins the faceoff clean, snapping the puck back to their defenseman at the blue line. He maneuvers around with the puck, trying to waste time. Austin moves in swiftly, forcing him to harmlessly sail the puck behind our net.
As Will turns to retrieve the puck, I pivot and take off while he passes to our Russian winger.
Alexei accepts the puck and picks up speed, chipping it past their defenseman. I drive hard up the right side, calling for it. He sees me. Feeds me. I collect the pass just outside the blue line, eyes up.
Options.
I wind up, faking the shot, hoping to draw someone out. Nothing. I shift to my left, looking for a seam. There—our center, Noah, fights for position at the crease. I senda low wrist shot through traffic, hoping for a redirect, a rebound, anything.
It hits a shin pad. Bounces out.
Damn it.
I scramble back, heart hammering. Their winger picks up the loose puck and takes off. Will steps up to challenge him at center ice, but the kid is too damn fast. I dig in, forcing him wide as he crosses our blue line. He tries to cut inside—I drop my shoulder and angle him off. He gets a shot off anyway.
Glove save.
Foster doesn’t even hesitate, slinging the puck to the corner. I scoop it up and turn up ice, pulse pounding in my ears.
Legs and lungs burning, I take the puck up the ice and manage to get it to Austin, who, by some frozen miracle, is open. He accepts the pass and shoots. It sails into the net like it’s destined to. The crowd erupts into cheers, their hope reignited, as our line leaves the ice.
