Jordan ushered me to a table in the corner of the room, the green bottle of amber goodness still clutched in her hand. “At least this way we will have a little bit of privacy. Do you even want to talkaboutit?”
I ran my hand over my face. “Fuck, I don’t even know where tobegin.”
She put her hand on my forearm. “You start by drinking that glass down and not worrying about finding the words. We don’t have to even talk. We can just sit here awkwardly forhours.”
“Thanks.”
“That’s what friendsarefor.”
We sat in silence for a little while and after Jordan gave me two refills, I was finally in asharingmood.
“Did you know I was about to break up with Mindie right before we met?” I blurted out and Jordan’s eyesgotwide.
“You two always seemed so madly in love. Why’d you even stay with her? That was fucking over five years ago.” Leave it to Bates to be as blunt as possible. That was actually one of my favorite things about Jordan – she was honest and blunt. Two perfect qualities for amazing friends and fantastic bartenders, and shewasboth.
“It was all an act. During my rookie season, I was traveling a lot and didn’t really want a relationship. Mindie and I were high school sweethearts and I was dragging my feet on breaking it off with her. The night I finally got the balls to end things, she told me she waspregnant.”
“Wait. What?” Jordan’s hand flew to her mouth. I knew she could do math and also knew that I did not have anychildren.
I leaned onto the table, chugging down the rest of my drink. “We got married the weekend after that at the courthouse and she lost the baby two weeks later. I should have cut and run then, but I had made acommitment.”
“You’re a good guy for honoring your word, Will.” Jordan’s eyes were filled with pity andconcern.
“Well, look at what I have to show foritnow.”
Chapter1
Crosby
Five yearslater
“This is the night gents!”Gavin Hayes yelled as we got psyched up for anotherawaygame.
“Aye, cap!” we roared inunison.
“What are we goingtodo?”
“Givethemhell!”
“Crosby!” Gavin hollered to me, “What are you goingtodo?”
I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Keep mygloveup!”
Coach Hayes stood next to his son. “Let’s give ’em hell boys, and show these Chicagoans that they’re not safe in their hometown oranywhere!”
The team burst out of the locker room like hellhounds on a mission. We were ravenous beasts ready to tear our opponents limb from limb—whatever it took for anothervictory.
Cheering and booing greeted us as our skates hit the ice one by one. I loved leading the stampeding hoard into battle with our team’s captain, Gavin Hayes, right behind me. There was a thrill that washed over me before every game, and it burned a fury deep in my gut as I got ready to defend our honor—or rather,thenet.
The first period began and I was consumed by it all—the chill from the ice, the weight of my pads, the roar of the crowd. Within the first minute there were two shots on my goal; one made me go spread eagle, but both saves wereclean.
Harding skated behind the net to get the puck from me. “That bender looks like his ankles are going to snap under his own weight. He needs to get off the ice before Idanglehim.”
“Make his life hell, kid. Fire a clapper—their tender is scared of them!” I waved him on his way as he bee-lined it into enemyterritory.
Hayes and Cox controlled the puck for the better part of the rest of the period. Obviously, I preferred when my teammates were in control and taking shot after shot, but damn was it boring. I loved challenging games where I constantly had to be focused and on top ofthings.
The worst part of being the goalie was having to watch from the other side of the rink when shit was going down with my team and know there was little I could do to help. Jesse Hendricks was rushing the opposing net as an enforcer came up next to him, checking him into the boards harder than necessary. Just as the left wing from the opposing team got the puck, Hendricks screamed, hitting the ice hard. The referees flew to his side as he held his knee, writhinginpain.