But damn do I want her to.
My phone buzzes, and it’s the group chat. I shake off my nerves over Monroe and try to get my head in the game.
Finn (2:35pm):It’s game day, boys. Everyone hydrated?
Callum (2:36pm):Does beer count?
JD (2:37pm):No. Jesus Christ.
Tyler (2:38pm):I hope you puke in the first period, King.
Beck (2:39pm):Let’s fucking GO.
Rhodes (2:40pm):Cal, do not pregame with beer. We can clinch the playoffs.
Finn (2:43pm):Ok, dad.
Callum (2:43pm):You never let us have any fun.
Tyler (2:44pm):That Stanley Cup has our name all over it.
JD (2:45pm):Fuck yeah.
Callum (2:45pm):Is Monroe coming tonight?
Rhodes (2:48pm):Maybe. It’s a home game. Her dad is the coach.
Finn (2:49pm):YAY! We’re getting a new mom!
Beck (2:59pm):Locker room in 20.
Callum (3:00pm):Rhodes, you gonna score one for your lady?
Rhodes (3:01pm):I’ll score one for your mom, King.
I shut off my phone screen and finish pulling my stuff together for the game.
* * * *
The locker room is buzzing with energy as soon as I walk in. Skates clatter against the floor, the smell of menthol and sweat hang in the air. Every game we win puts us closer to the Conference Finals in May, then hopefully? The Stanley Cup.
I lace up my skates, tuning out the usual pre-game chaos. Beck tosses a tape roll at Finn’s head, Tyler’s blasting whatever EDM mix he’s convinced is “elite warm-up music”, and JD’s got his earplugs in, doing his pre-game meditation. Callum is stretching with our physical therapist, Jessa.
“Does Monroe have a jersey?” Beck asks, nonchalantly.
“Uh.” I hesitate. “I might have sent her a jersey.” I wanted every guy in a thousand-mile radius to know Monroe was off the market. Not available.Mine.Even if it wasn’t official. I wanted my name on her back so badly it was driving me crazy.
“Cool. Hope she wears it, man.” Then a beat before, “I gave one to Sloane, too.” I snap my head up at him and catch his shit-eating grin. “Just kidding,” he laughs.
“It’s not funny, Larsson,” I growl. “That’s my baby sister.”
He snorts. “No Sloane. Got it.”
“Fuck off. Focus on the game.” I scowl, flipping him off.
“All of you, focus up.” Coach’s voice cuts through the noise.
The room falls silent. He scans the room, and lands on me.