Chapter 22
HUDSON
Getting ready in the locker room, Liam, our team captain, doles out what sounds like encouraging greeting card platitudes, which is not what I expect from a guy like him, then his eyes slit and the corners of his mouth lift into a grimace? No, that’s a smile.
He barks, “I had you guys for a minute there, didn’t I?”
Hesitant laughter ripples through the room.
I haven’t known Liam for long, but I’ve never seen him smile.
He snaps his fingers and then points finger guns at us, laughing maniacally like a cartoon villain.
“I had you all there for a second. No, go out there and crush the Empire State Kings.
Give it your best shot! I believe in you! Unicorns! Fairy dust! Make ‘em bleed!”
This bizarro rally cry has us all rolling with laughter and smiling as we march out of the locker room because it was so unexpected and nonsensical.
So out of character and unlike any pre-game pep talk I’ve ever heard.
When we hit the ice, during the team welcome sequence where the announcer introduces us, the overall mood is upbeat.
Not sure that’ll win the game, but morale is high which goes a long way.
As I skate around the rink, the lights and thunder from the crowd are so loud and distracting that I don’t see anyone I recognize in the seats, but I’m used to not having family here cheering me on.
Coach has the first string as the starting lineup, which is no surprise. Even though I’ve been practicing with the guys and learning the way they play, it’s a thing of beauty to see their cohesion during a live game.
The Knights hit the ice with new-season energy.
Our captain and Jack play pass the puck as they slice up the ice.
Redd is in position for an assist and then Hayden gets the shot, sending the puck into the corner of the net.
Our fans cheer with rabid enthusiasm. The opposition comes back with an aggressive play, but after a few intense passes, Beau keeps the goal clear and we resume possession.
During the second period, we’re up a point and Coach slides me in front of the net. It’s like riding a bike.
Or not.
Although I try a stack block, relying on my pads, the goal gets in.
There’s nothing quite like letting your team down.
It’s a uniquely soul-crushing feeling of disappointment and shame.
It doesn’t help that the crowd boos, telling me to go home.
But they’re right. I don’t deserve to be here. Don’t belong here.
Badaszek swaps me out for Beau shortly after and the tie with the Kings is held for the remainder of the period.
Each team scores again, keeping pace into the third and my mind wanders away from the game when I spot Leah in the VIP suite. She’s on her feet, pounding the air when the Kings’ center and Jack battle it out for the puck.
During our figure skating lessons, I learned some ways to make my movements more fluid and efficient, but the real takeaway was strengthening my mental muscles.
Not getting in my head. Instead, going to a place beyond self-doubt and simply directing my attention and energy to the mechanics of the task.
I can’t stop thinking about Leah. Can’t let her down after working with me. The wedding thing is ridiculous. Her family are a bunch of comedians. I’m waiting for them to announce that it’s all a big joke.
Ha ha! It’s on me, though, because the idea of being with her is an impossibility. She’s too pretty, too smart, and too funny to want a loser who lets the puck in the net. Any time now, the Smiths are going to realize they bet on the wrong player, too.
“Roboveitchek!” Coach calls in a tone that suggests that wasn’t the first time he tried to get my attention.
“Yes, sir?”
He waves me toward the ice. “Get back in there.”
Beau slaps my hand as we trade places. I spot Leah watching intently as the puck drops.
I tell myself that being with her is never going to happen.
Just like me saving this game because the Kings are dominating with renewed vigor by keeping our puck out of their goal.
The score is still tied—four to four. But we have less than five minutes left and if I leave an opening for them, it’s over.
I put thoughts of Leah in the Nothing Box inside my brain because she’d never marry me let alone consider liking me. The Nothing Box is the blank, empty place in my head that I turn to when I need to focus. Right now, I have to do my best to save this game.
Play is fierce, but with a minute remaining, Redd scores, and the arena goes wild. As the clock counts down, I’m ready and the puck slices toward me. I keep an eye on along with everything in my periphery. It’s no secret that the opposing team will exploit my blind spots.
I see the determination in the King’s left wing as he passes off the puck to the center who calculates how best to slot it into the net. He has two choices and I anticipate both. I don’t let my mind wander to what’ll happen if I let him score.
I can get to that later if need be. For now, my stick and my entire body are the only things standing between a win or a loss.
Stanton releases the puck. I drop a knee, angle my stick just so, and like a blade dropping onto a cutting board, I keep it out of the paint.
Whoa. That. Just. Happened.
We take the win and the stands explode with cheering.
Our team song comes on. Some of the guys show off with slick moves, but that was a close call and I cannot fathom why Badaszek put me in after my performance during the second period, but as I pass Leah during our victory lap, our eyes meet, and my thoughts recede.
Not to the Nothing Box, but to the Leah Box, where I put the look of pride on her face and the challenging upturn of her lips, suggesting that I did okay.
Back in the locker room, Hayden says, “Look at hockey’s boy next door, our very own Robo, all iced up! Nice save!”
The guys nearest me clap me on the back.
Grady asks, “Those figure skating lessons paying off?”
“The new guy’s gal is on fire for him.” Redd jabs me in the ribs with his stick.
Pierre says, “Never seen Leah so enthusiastic except at Christmas when Cara makes cookies.”
But she said she has a salty tooth. Also, shouldn’t we be talking about the game?
“Leah and Robo. I have to admit, I didn’t see that coming, but it works,” Jack says.
“Our man has hockey’s biggest fan!” Mikey hoots.
“Not likely. She’s definitely not one of my biggest fans. More accurately, I’d call her an anti-fan.”
Jack tucks his chin and frowns. “Aren’t you getting married?”
“You guys are confused. Her grandmother had a vision or a dream or something that I was somehow the guy for Leah. Said I was the ‘Chosen one.’ Then at Leah’s parents’ anniversary party, her parents made the announcement.” I hold up my hands. “We had nothing to do with it.”
“So like an arranged marriage?” Pierre asks.
Liam and Beau both look away like they have something to hide.
“Do people still do that?” Mikey asks.
“Probably in some cultures,” Hayden says.
Mikey adds, “Best case scenario, you meet the person who complements and completes you, it’s love at first sight, and you live happily ever after.”
“Sounds like someone has been hanging around Gracie’s bookstore,” Pierre teases.
Mikey adds, “Reality can be a bit more complicated. Messy. Engagements that last for years. That fall apart.”
Liam adds, “People are left at the altar or get cold feet.”
“Hate each other at first and then something changes.” Hayden snaps his fingers.
Redd adds, “Maybe an arranged marriage is what’s going to work for you.”
“Not with Leah. She hates me.” I point to my tooth. “I didn’t lose my lateral incisor on the ice.”
Mikey arches an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me she …?”
“It was during hockey. Street hockey,” I say.
“Leah knocked your tooth out?” Pierre barks a laugh.
“The guy was spitting Chiclets. Chick-lets. Get it?” Liam roars with laughter.
Everyone shakes their heads. The grump is still getting acquainted with humor.
“Cap, the pre-game pep talk was decent, but stick to what you’re good at,” Vohn hollers from the other side of our wooden locker stalls.
Liam glowers.
Grady claps his shoulder. “He just means that becoming a stand-up comedian isn’t your future after you retire.”
Liam grumbles.
And Leah is not in my future.
Apparently, the conversation about us isn’t over because Redd says, “You’re not talking about her like you hate each other.”
I shrug. “It’s a one-way thing.”
Cue the round of, “Oohs” from the guys.
“So you like her.”
My shoulder lifts again.
“I shouldn’t be into her.”
“Why not?”
I point to a scar on my arm. “She also gave me this.”
“Ooh. A gnar scar. Sketchy.” Pierre studies the gnarly scar that runs up the back of my forearm like an angry red seam. There are even pale stick marks like Frankenstein’s monster from the stitches.
“Did our goalie let a girl beat him up?” Grady asks.
“It happened when we were nine. Riding bikes.”
Mrs. Smith came by every day to make sure it was healing okay. Hunter inhaled all the Dr. Pepper and ate snacks she left. The greedy jerk.
Jack asks, “So she was always one of the guys?”
I give a non-committal nod.
“Either you’re crazy about her or there’s something you’re not telling us,” Beau says in a rare show of involvement in locker room conversation.
“Both,” I murmur.
“At some point, she decided not to be a tomboy anymore.”
“Don’t tell me Leah went boy crazy,” Redd says.
“She went Hunter crazy. Started only hanging around with my brother.”
Mikey says, “Ooh. Cold. So he got dibs?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“Does she still hold a flame for him?”
“I don’t think so. But the fire is out when it comes to me.”
“So poetic,” Pierre says with a laugh, then continues, “but I don’t think so.”
I know so.
“It’s common knowledge that she’s looking for a hockey player.” Hayden winks.
“But not me.”
“If you break her heart, we’ll break that pretty face of yours,” Jack says.
Which is why I should put distance between us. Because I’ll inevitably have to leave Cobbiton and she plans to stay.
Biting the inside of my lip, I say, “I have an idea.” I tell them that I’m thinking of setting her up on some dates with guys from my old teams.
“That’s the worst idea in the world,” Beau says.
“She’s a wooman. You need to woo her.” Pierre titters.
With a roll of my eyes, I say, “Cap, shouldn’t we be debriefing the game instead of whatever this is?”
Liam grunts and with a crook of his lips, says, “Just consider this painful conversation your reward for saving the game.”
I’m not sure how that works in my favor, but take it as a compliment.
Later, when we exit the locker room, Leah waits among the wives and girlfriends. As everyone pairs off for the post-game dinner that Margo organized, it’s just the two of us.
I tell myself that she wasn’t waiting for me and that I shouldn’t be interested in her. But who knew a guy could be suddenly addicted to the scent of summer, fascinated by the shades of her smiles, and totally intrigued by the way she moves on those lovely long legs?