Page 55 of The Cutting Edge
"Why don't you surprise me?" she replies.
My heart quickens.
I catch myself reaching for her hand and stop, curling my fingers into a fist. “Well, with the playoffs, I’ll either be really busy or have absolutely nothing to do, depending on how tonight's game goes. But...” I hesitate, “maybe we could grab dinner sometime? If you want. Or you could come to a game. If there is one.”
I take a chance.
"...Or...you know... all the games."
Her green eyes light up. “I’d like that.”
“Great.” I grin, and she grins back. We sit there smiling at each other like two idiots until she glances at the clock on the wall.
“You should head to the arena soon,” she squeezes my hand. “Good luck tonight. I’ll be watching.”
“Thanks, Coconut.” I lift her hand and brush my lips over her knuckles, thrilled by her soft gasp.
"Coconut?" she laughs. "That's new."
"Sorry, I’m a dad," I say. "Coming up with goofy nicknames for people I care about is practically in the job description."
She laughs, and it sounds like music.
“Wish me luck tonight?”
“Good luck,” she whispers.
Our gazes lock, and the air between us sparks and simmers. I’m not imagining this connection—it’s as real as the necklace resting against my chest.
I stand, overly reluctant to leave her, “See you soon.”
“See you.” Her eyes glimmer with promise, and I walk out the door with my heart full of hope.
In the locker room, I stroke the necklace at my throat, tracing the smooth aventurine pendant with my thumb. Coco’s necklace. Her lucky charm.
Tonight has to be the night I break out of this slump. We’re down 0-3 in the series against Philly, and if we lose again, our season is over. As captain, the consequence of responsibility is a lead weight in my gut. I’ve let the whole team down with my shitty performance.
I clasp the necklace back around my neck, feeling the cool stone settle against my skin.You can do this, I tell myself.You’re a fucking professional.
And then, the kicker:Coco is watching you play tonight.
Just before I step onto the ice for warmups, my phone buzzes with a text.
It’s a picture of Coco, wearing my Slashers jersey, her auburn hair spilling over her shoulders, giving me a thumbs up.Thanks for the pep rally, you look adorable. How’s your head?I text her.
She responds instantly.
I’ll live.Now go. Kick some ass out there.
Fire licks through my veins at her words.Yes, ma’am,I text back.
I stow my phone and push off, gliding over to my team. But I carry her faith in me like a torch, lighting my path.
When the puck drops, I’m ready. I’m focused. I’m unstoppable.
The first period ends with us up 2-0, both goals assisted by me. In the second, I score on a breakaway, top shelf where the goalie can’t reach. Fosse is on fire tonight, Zayne scores in the third, and we’ve blown Philly out of the water.
The buzzer sounds, and my teammates mob me. We’re still in this thing.
