Andie
With the blaring of the horn indicating the end of the game, the crowd sits back with a loud groan in their seats.
The game against the Tampa Titans has proven to be far more difficult for the Boston Bandits than anyone anticipated. And since it’s a home game for the Bandits, everyone boos the Tampa players.
Beside me, Kaeli nervously bites into her nails, a trait I didn’t think she’d possess. But gradually, she’s revealing herself to the people around her.
My gaze flicks to the scoreboard that shows a tie between the two teams, meaning the game is now in overtime. The teams switch sides in the fifteen-minute intermission.
I press my hand on Kaeli’s bouncing knee and give her a comforting squeeze. “It’ll be okay.”
She turns to look my way, detaching her eyes from Ezra with too much willpower, and gives me a smile that looks more like a grimace. “Thank you. I’m good.”
I cock my eyebrow at her, and she heaves a sigh, done hiding behind the fake smile. “Ugh, I’m sorry. My head’s in the game. The team has been practicing endlessly. I know Tampa Titans work hard too, but well, I’m biased.”
“Who wouldn’t?” I agree with her, my eyes wander back to the ice, snatching on the goalie for the Boston Bandits as five players from both teams take their place, ready for the overtime period.
While the puck drops and each team tries to get a goal in and win the game, I take in Noah for the hundredth time as he stands there, focused and determined to stop the puck from going into the net.
He’s unstoppable, wicked fast, and has instinctsthat he has clearly been sharpening for more than half his life. He’sinspiring.
My eyes flick to the Jumbotron as the camera pans to his face. I can’t help but notice the drop of sweat that falls from his eyebrows, sliding down his cheeks. The strands of his blond hair falling over his green eyes, even under the helmet. He’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen, and I can’t ever let a soul know I think that. Not if I don’t want my brother to burst an artery.
Grabbing my phone, I snap a few videos and pictures of my own too to post on his fan account later, glad that Kaeli’s gaze is too busy following my brother on the ice to notice.
Giving myself a few more minutes to drink him in, I divert my attention back to the game. It’s tense, fans cheering for the Bandits until their throats go sore.
The Titans winger skates as close to the goal as possible, pulling back to take his shot, making Noah adjust his grip on the hockey stick, spreading his legs wider.
From the other side, Ezra is bounding toward him at a breakneck speed to thwart his attempt, hoping to turn the direction in which the game is headed.
He almost does, but then, out of nowhere, Titan’s enforcer, Kyle, rams straight into Ezra. They both go flying and knock into Noah behind them. The crash is so powerful, it’s like the whole arena shakes.
Almost everyone is on their feet, including Kaeli and me. A gasp falls out of us, worried, getting antsy when none of them move.
Kyle is sprawled over Ezra, whose body is lying over Noah. Noah took the brunt of the fall, protecting my brother from a possible injury. But what about him? Is he okay? Why isn’t he moving?
I start to spiral, my breathing becoming faster and faster until I feel like I’ll throw up.
Please, God. Please let them both be okay.
I pray to whatever power there is. After what feels like excruciatingly long hours when it’s merely been a few seconds, they move, the other players and referees skating toward them to help them.
Kaeli and I find each other’s hands, squeezing them in relief, glad that both men are okay. Oliver, Seb, and Levi, Bandit’s defenseman, help both Ezra and Noah up. The second, Noah’s upright, he throws his gloves andhelmet to the surface.
The arena echoes with a string of curses, excitement zinging through them. Unfortunately, people love a brawl. Especially when players like Noah get into—someone who rarely does.
Cracking crap on a knuckle.
Before anyone else can get their bearings, Noah hauls Kyle straight and takes a swing at him.
My hands cover the gasp that escapes my mouth, eyes widening as the fight progresses. It doesn’t surprise me that Kyle got even Noah to retaliate. Kyle is an enforcer for the team, a shit stirrer, with a British accent and aristocratic air that evaporates the second his skates hit the ice.
On ice, he’s absolutely ruthless. Banging people into the boards left and right. Noah’s by no means any less intimidating; regardless, Kyle’s affinity for violence makes my heart race for Noah’s well-being.
The camera pans to their fight, showing both of them sporting bruises and splashes of blood. Kyle has a maniacal grin on his face even when Noah gets him right in the jaw, his face careening to the side.
Kyle gets in a few punches, too. It feels like aneternity has passed before their fight is finally broken. Both of them are benched, and the game goes into another overtime since no one scored in this one.