Suck My Puck (Denver Bashers Series #3)

46. Braden

Chapter 46

Braden

I ’m a fucking brick wall tonight.

Yeah, I sound like a cocky motherfucker. But it’s true.

Vancouver is throwing everything they’ve got at me, but I manage to block it all. Every single puck that comes my way, I smack it away or catch it.

It’s almost the end of the game, and they haven’t scored on me yet.

We’re up one to zero with three minutes left, and the home crowd fucking hates it. Every time I block or catch a puck, they boo. I don’t care. The one person who matters is cheering me on.

The guys are battling near Vancouver’s net, so I take a second to glance behind me.

There’s Bella wearing my jersey. My heart slingshots around my chest.

That’s my girl with my name and my number on her body.

She flashes that gorgeous grin. I smile back, hoping she can see it through the cage on my face .

It means everything that she’s here tonight. Every time I make a save, I hear her cheering me on.

I think back to when she said she’d never, ever date another hockey player again. When she said she’d never step foot in a hockey arena again. When she said she’d never wear another man’s jersey.

She broke all of her rules for me.

My heart races in my chest. All those nerves and uncertainty that plagued me at the beginning of the season are long gone. And it’s all because of Bella.

Not just because of all the time in bed we spend together. Yeah, that’s what got me out of my slump at first.

But now I realize I’m playing better because I’m with someone who believes in me, who defends me, who supports me. Regardless of how I perform on the ice, her feelings for me are unwavering.

That’s what I’ve been missing. This whole time I thought my worth was in how well I played. And yeah, that’s important. I wanna kick ass every time I’m in the net. I want to win. I want to be the best player I can be. I want to earn my paycheck and make my teammates and my coaches and the fans proud.

But I’m more than just a goalie. I’m more than just hockey.

I’m a person worthy of love and respect, no matter how well I play, no matter what I do for a living.

Bella showed me that.

A scuffle breaks out after one of Vancouver’s guys lands a cheap shot on Del. The linesmen break it up and things settle down as they get set up for a puck drop near our net.

I get into position, my eyes trained on the puck, ready for it.

Vancouver is going to try like hell to tie things up to push us into overtime. It’s their only way to salvage their performance this game. And I’m going to try my hardest not to let that happen.

The puck lands on the ice. The Vancouver forward takes possession and passes it back to their winger, who takes off with it.

Instantly, Del is all over him, and the two end up in the corner, fighting for control of the puck.

I turn my body and keep my eyes on the puck, despite how quickly and randomly it moves on the ice.

Vancouver shoots the puck away, all the way to center ice where one of their defensemen waits.

I get into position even before he takes the shot because I know what he’s about to do.

None of our guys are near him to cover him, so he winds up and hits the puck at me.

My glove is raised and ready for him. Not even a split second later, the puck lands at the center of my glove, right before the buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the game.

We won.

The Vancouver fans in the stands groan in disappointment, but the only thing I focus on are all the Bashers fans screaming and cheering.

My teammates crowd me, hollering and smacking me in celebration.

“Fuck, yeah!”

“You’re a brick fucking wall, dude!”

“Motherfucking shutout! Hell yeah!”

I’m grinning so hard, my face aches. Theo crashes into me, causing me to fall.

“Shit, sorry, dude,” he says.

I laugh. “It’s okay.”

He helps me up off the ice. We finish celebrating and the guys line up to tap my helmet. It’s a thing they do whenever I have a shutout.

When my last teammate taps me, I spin around, pull off my helmet, and skate over to Bella. She’s grinning wide, the look in her eyes bright and adoring as she gazes at me.

Through the glass divider separating us, she blows me a kiss. I grin back at her, sparks flying up my chest.

Post-game adrenaline and pure, unfettered joy crash through me. For a second, it’s hard to breathe.

That’s the woman of my dreams, by my side, cheering me on, supporting me, looking so proud of me in this moment.

I notice a bunch of sports photographers snapping photos of us. Even some of the Vancouver fans start to clap and go “aww” around us.

“I’ll see you later, pretty girl,” I say.

A beautiful pink blush paints her full cheeks as she beams at me. I skate off to join my team, feeling like the luckiest man on the planet.