The words hit sharp. My heart stutters, even though I expected it.
“Oh,” I manage, voice even quieter. “Oh, okay. Right, of course. I’m sorr—”
Petra cuts me off with another wave of her handbefore continuing on.
* * * *
Later, when I’m alone in my apartment going over the meeting in Coach Ivanov’s office, I let my thoughts tumble around me.
The tears come hot and fast when I let myself sit with her words.
It’s not what I thought I wanted when I went to see her, but lately, nothing I have thought I wanted ended up being the best thing for me in the long run.
I’ve scaled the wall up from rock bottom. I can learn how to do something new.
Epilogue
June, two months later
Rhodes
The crisp air of the ice hits my face as we skate out to the center for the puck drop.
We’re here. The Stanley Cup finals. We have a shot to win the whole thing. Talk about an underdog season. They’ll be talking about the Wolverines comeback for years.
The last two months have been more than I could have envisioned in my wildest dreams. Monroe is everything.
She’severything.
I’m brought back into the moment when Beck shoves an arm against me as we get into position for the puck drop. Callum, Tyler, and JD are ready. Weston’s in the net. My chinstrap is tight against my neck, and I’m already sweating from the nerves of being here. Playing this game, with these guys. Monroe in the stands.
The ref drops the puck and the Wolverines are hungry. I grab the puck and blaze down that ice. Finn catches a rebound and sends it crashing toward their net. The adrenaline in my veins is pumping so violently that I don’t even feel the hit against me, throwing me back into the boards. I’m back rushing the ice before anyone else can clock me. We’re playing tight defense, but by the end of the first period, it’s zero-one and we aren’t winning.
‘Boys, don’t get sloppy now,’ Coach had warned when we skated up between periods.
It’s a grind, this game. We’re against the St. Louis Blues, and both of us are playing well. It’s nearly impossible to get a goal in on either side. Everyone on the team—Jax included—is skating clean, hard, and fast. Tyler takes a hit to the face so bad he’s out for the rest of the period, maybe the game. I don’t know yet. I don’t have time to worry about him.
But then Beck shoots me a pass so perfect I rip it toward the Blues’ net. I see Monroe out of the corner of my eye, in the family and friends section, and she looks like she’s holding her breath. I think I am, too. God, I want to win this for her. For all of us, sure. But I want her to be proud of me.
The puck moves in slow motion before sliding right into the corner pocket of the net. There is ringing in my ears from the cheers. We’re back on the board.
Fuck. Yes.
The buzzer for the end of second period sounds, and it’s time to wrap this game up, and take home the cup. There is no room for any other possibility in my head. Sweat drips down into my eyes and I swipe at it unsuccessfully. My nerves are in my throat and I can barely breathe. The game is tied up. I turn back toSloane and Monroe, and notice Beck next to me doing the same. We make eye contact and nod. This is it.This is our game.
But by the time the clock is running down, with seconds left in the game, we’re still tied. We just need one more shot. Callum is able to snag the puck, race it down the ice, where Beck receives his pass, and I can feel the win deep in my bones.
I watch the world narrow into a single target. Beck fakes left and sends the puck shooting toward the net. The entire arena is silent as we wait to see what will happen next.
Then?
Fuckinggoal.
The horn blares, and my teammates pile on Beck. We flood the ice, helmets flying, gloves tossed and forgotten around us. Finn jumps on my back, cheering so loud in my ear I wonder if I will be able to hear properly after this game. I don’t even care if I don’t—the Cup is ours. The Wolverines are champions. They hand me the Cup, and the guys lift me up over their heads. I raise the Cup, cheering until my throat is hoarse. Someone takes a picture, and I know that’s something I’ll cherish forever.
Sloane and Monroe are hugging and crying and I feel some tears slip down my cheeks too. The comeback team of the NHL. It feels so good that I can hardly believe how far I’ve come in the last six months. When they’re done with the photos, I practically jump over the side boards to get to my girl. Monroe is there, beaming at me.
“I’m so proud of you. Holy shit,” she says, “you were incredible out there.” I hold her face in my hands and wonder how the hell I got so lucky. “But you reallyneed to shower,” she whispers, laughing. Confetti falls around her face and I can barely breathe at the fact that she’s here. And she’s mine.