Page 131 of Stick Side
Ben prayed they’d be able to find their way forward because he couldn’t breathe at the thought of losing her. He didn’t need to have known her for long to know she brought him a deeper sense of fulfilment and completion than he’d ever dreamed possible.
He couldn’t lose her. He just couldn’t. And yet, he acknowledged that relationships were a two-way street. It wasn’t just about how certainhefelt about their relationship. Melody had to choose him—them—too. But would she?
Ben shut down that train of thought when his heart started to ache. He would respect her wishes, but he would also fight for her if he had to. If anything was worth a fight, it was the promise of a lifetime with the woman he loved.
It took considerable self-discipline, but Ben pulled himself back into game-day mode. Not only was his career still important to him, it was now doubly so since playing well helped ensure he would be able to stay in Chicago, which he needed to do if he didn’t want to give Melody yet another reason to dump him.
With only a few more minutes until the pregame warm-up, he took a few deep breaths and envisioned the game as he wanted it to play out. He pictured himself skating with skill and fluidity. He saw himself scoring, and he saw himself passing the puck to set a teammate up for a goal. He heard the supportive roar of the crowd and the game-winning goal horn. He felt the sweet triumph of a game well played.
Today, he also pictured Melody jumping into his arms in celebration of their win. He pictured the luminescence of her eyes, the generous upturn of her smile, the comfort of her embrace, and the incredible way her soft curves seemed to fit so perfectly against the hard planes of his body.
Holding Melody was like coming home. His longing for her was so powerful he could practically taste it. He just prayed they were on the same page.
Ben’s eyes flitted over to Eric Cassidy, who seemed to be engrossed in taping the toe of his hockey stick. Cassidy had been slowly thawing toward him since they’d had it out in the locker room in Denver, which led Ben to suspect he’d been right aboutCassidy’s feelings for Melody. His teammate might care for her deeply and feel averse to the idea of someone else coming into her life and taking up her time, but Ben would bet money it was her friendship Cassidy really wanted and not her romantic interest.
Ben felt confident he and Cassidy would be able to get back on friendly footing eventually. It might just take a little time and the awareness that Ben wasn’t going to do anything to get in the way of their friendship. As far as Ben was concerned, the more people Melody had in her life who genuinely cared for her, the better—provided the relationships were platonic, of course.
“Okay, gentlemen!” Coach McGuire called out.
Without exception, everyone in the locker room turned to give him their attention.
“We have our work cut out for us tonight,” Coach McGuire continued. “The Penguins have been outperforming everyone’s expectations this season. Something about their new lines is really working. Coach Dodds and I have been over all the game tape and, I hate to say it, but whatever that something is, it’s unpredictable. So, keep on your toes and expect the unexpected. If a player normally shoots left, know they might shoot right. If they favor racing the net on a breakaway, predict they might actually opt for an assist.”
Ben knew what Coach McGuire meant. He’d been over the tapes with the offensive coach and noticed the same thing. Players were doing the unexpected but still falling into their old patterns enough that one couldn’t fully predict the unexpected behavior, which made their play truly unpredictable.
“So, we basically just have to stay sharp, right, Coach?” Phillips questioned wryly.
Coach McGuire’s lips hitched up into a real, but regretful, smile. “Pretty much,” he acknowledged.
“Well, okay then,” Richie threw in.
“You’ve got this, boys,” Coach McGuire encouraged.
“Damn right we do!” Kyle Knight enthused with the zeal of a rookie.
Ben smiled. There were far worse things than the kind of fervor seen by the new kids on the block.
“All right, boys,” Coach McGuire added. “Let’s get out there and show them what we’re made of.”
Feeling as amped-up as he thought they could hope to be, Ben followed his teammates down the tunnel.
The cool, dry air stung his nostrils as he skated out onto the ice. As his skates cut through the freshly Zamboni-ed ice, he could swear he could smell the frozen pool. Logic suggested he couldn’t, but it always felt like he could even though he would be hard-pressed to describe it to anyone who asked, other than to say it smelled crisp and clean and like dreams come true.
Ben skated around the rink a few times to warm up his muscles before taking a few experimental shots on goal. O’Rourke was in the zone and deflected them all.
Ben hadn’t been able to spot Melody in the stands—no great surprise when the arena had an occupancy of over twenty thousand—but he knew she was there. It was enough to add an extra spring to his step and fire in his veins.
By the time he was facing off for the puck drop, Ben was pumped and ready. His senses were so focused on the game he could practically see the referee drop the puck in slow motion. This gave him ample time to predict the angle and bounce of the puck, which allowed him to gain possession.
Ben smiled. It always felt good to start a game by winning the initial faceoff. It certainly wasn’t a predictor of which team would win the game, but it was definitely a good start.
Ben tipped the puck to Volkov, who took it up the ice. He then passed it to Richie, who was open on the other end of the blueline. Seeing a clear shot, Richie pulled back his stick and shot off a nice clapper. Sadly, it was denied.
Richie lined up for the faceoff, but lost the puck to Pittsburgh. Ben skated up the ice, trying to keep himself open for a pass from the Chicago defense.
Pittsburgh took a shot but was stopped by a stunning flamingo from Cassidy. O’Rourke was a great goalie, but Ben couldn’t help but feel that at least part of his record-breaking success could be attributed to the support of a strong defensive line. Say what you will about the guy, but Cassidy was a phenomenal hockey player.
The first period flew by in a flash, as they so often did. There was something about being on the ice that made the clock tick faster. Or so Ben had always felt.
