Page 34 of Pucking Ever After: Volume 1

“Keep it!”

“Shoot it!”

“Fake him out!”

All my air is trapped in my throat as everyone around me suddenly becomes an expert in stick and puck handling. But nothing we say matters. Only what Jake sees, what he feels. If it’s right, he’ll take the shot. If not, he’ll fall back and regroup.

Mars steps in close, his arm wrapping around my waist as he we both hold our breath. “Take the shot,” he murmurs only loud enough for me to hear.

It’s just Jake and the goalie now. Every other Capitals player is getting effectively boxed out by a Ray.

Now or never.

“Come on, take the shot,” I whisper, willing Jake to hear me.

My voice is lost to the roar of the crowd as Jake slashes left, luring the goalie with him, only to do another fancy flick with his stick, sinking the puck into the back corner of the net. The lights go off, the bullhorn blasts, and Bruno Mars fills the Rays stadium as Jake gets hammered on all sides by celebrating Rays.

The Rays are now winning 4-2. The fans around us scream. Those closest know who we are, so we get our shoulders squeezed and patted. A bearded man with Bud Light breath puffs in my face, “Your guy is fuckin’ awesome!”

“Best defense is a good offense,” his equally drunk friend shouts.

I smile but put a protective hand around Tuo, inching closer to Mars. We do our best to thank everyone and the cheering intensifies as Jake comes skating down the ice. He knows where we are. He made faces at the boys through the glass during warmups.

Rays fans slam the glass as Jake skates up, trailed by Novy. He’s smiling wide, his bright blue mouthguard hanging out the side of his mouth, clenched in his teeth. I glance over and see Jamie is zonked out against Ilmari’s chest, his breathing deep and even.

Tuomas pops his pacifier out of his mouth. “Da—da—” he babbles, reaching out both hands towards Jake.

“Did you see that shot?” Jake teases at me. “You couldn’t have done it any prettier.”

I just smirk, leaning forward to let Tuo put his hands on the glass.

Distracted by the baby, Jake taps the glass with his gloved finger. “Did you see me, Tuo? Did you see Daddy’s goal?”

The whistle blows and Jake turns, popping his mouthguard back in. This game is over. The Rays are advancing to the playoffs. But there’s still three minutes left in this game.

“Tell DeGraw he played well,” Ilmari calls, both his large hands resting protectively over Jamie’s back.

Glancing back at us, Jake nods. He tears his gaze from the babies, focusing all his heated attention on me. A moment that lasts endless seconds stretches between us as he holds my gaze. Then he gives me a wink and skates off.

Fuck me dead.

My heart stops as my dick twitches. I watch him skate into position, ready for the puck drop. Once he’s bent over, stick in position, he glances my way again with a teasing grin, flashing me that blue mouth guard.

“Fuck,” I mutter, shifting on my feet.

“Fu, fu, fu,” Tuo echoes, tapping my stubbled chin with both his tiny hands.

“Ouch—” I wince as Ilmari elbows me.Hard.

“I’m going to raise the swear jar price to one hundred dollars per swear,” he warns.

“You have to admit, I’m getting better,” I say with a shrug, elbowing him back.

He just rolls his eyes, his attention on the puck drop.

The players all know they’re running out the clock. No way the Capitals are coming back from this in under two minutes. The forwards are still fighting, but Jake easily bats the puck loose and sends it flying down the rink.

Taking his cue from Novy, they dart for the side and hop over the boards. Morrow and J-Lo take their place on the ice. Jake is done for this game. The others on the bench are already congratulating him, including Hurricane. She leans over him, both hands on his shoulders, kissing the side of his helmet, her smile wide.

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