Chapter 36 River
River
The buzz of the crowd hums through the arena, a steady thrum of energy that vibrates beneath my skin.
I push off from the boards, carving a slow loop around the ice, letting the movement settle in my limbs.
Warm-ups are usually mindless. It’s all muscle memory, breath control while operating on autopilot.
But that’s not the case tonight.
Tonight feels different.
I’m not just skating against another team.
I’m skating against family.
“Hey!” a familiar voice calls out from behind me, smug and loud enough to carry over the music. “Try not to embarrass yourself out here, got it, Thompson?”
I glance over my shoulder and smirk. “Please. With your lineup? Shouldn’t you guys be playing in the AHL?”
Maverick skates up beside me, his grin sharp beneath the visor. “Says the guy we crushed last time.”
I scoff. “If you remember correctly, I was out with an injury. Wasn’t even on the ice.”
“Likely story,” he mutters, bumping my shoulder like we’re just two guys at a pickup game, not about to go head-to-head in front of a sold-out crowd.
The contact is easy and familiar. After all the years we spent grinding against each other on opposing teams, it’s funny how life turned out.
“Lilah invited Willow to sit in the suite.” His gaze shifts to the glass above center ice. “The whole McKinnon crew’s up there.”
“Yup, she texted earlier to let me know,” I say, already scanning the luxury box. My gaze locks on Willow almost instantly. She’s standing near the glass with my niece on her hip and my nephew waving like a maniac. As soon as she catches my eye, a grin lifts her lips.
That’s all it takes for the tightness coiled within me to ease.
There’s nothing better than having family in the stands cheering you on.
All right, maybe that’s not altogether true.
My gaze drifts to the box after another pass around the zone.
Callie is still MIA.
Part of me wonders if she plans to attend.
And if she does show her face, will she be wearing my jersey?
Will she let me claim her in front of everyone?
“Not here yet, huh?” Maverick asks, keeping pace with me.
Ten years ago, we were bitter rivals, both on and off the ice. I stole his high school girlfriend, and he ended up having a secret relationship with my sister in college.
I was afraid he was using her to get back at me.
And I couldn’t have been more wrong.
It took some time for us to see eye to eye, but now the guy is more than just my brother-in-law. He’s one of the few people I trust with my sister, niece, and nephew. Maverick McKinnon has turned out to be a good man.
He’s an even better husband and a phenomenal father.
Not to mention, a damn good friend.
“Nope,” I say, my gaze searching the suite for what feels like the hundredth time.
“You think she’s going to show?”
“I sure as hell hope so,” I mutter, more to myself than him.
I’ve played in hundreds of games and scored more goals than I can count. But I’ve never wanted anyone in the stands the way I want to see her smiling face in the crowd.
Knox skates up beside us and bumps shoulders with Maverick.
A cocky grin simmers around the edges of his lips. “Hey, old man. Nice to see you finally decided to join a winning team for a change.”
Mav snorts. “You’re hilarious, McNichols. You couldn’t pay me enough to be teammates with you.”
“Yeah, I can imagine. It would really suck not being the best out there, wouldn’t it?”
Maverick just shakes his head, refusing to take the bait. “You remind me so damn much of your brother. That’s not a compliment. How’s Colby doing these days?”
Knox’s grin transforms into something more genuine. “Expanding the bloodline. Avery’s still got him wrapped around her little finger, and Britt’s due with baby number three in the spring.”
“We’re playing Milwaukee next month,” Mav says, shifting his stick between his gloved hands.
Knox chuckles. “Do me a favor and lay him out flat with a nice clean hit and tell him it’s from me.”
Mav smirks. “I’ll deliver the message personally.”
He glances toward his teammates on the far side of the rink. “I better get moving before they accuse me of fraternizing with the enemy.”
“Seriously, man. No one could blame you.”
With another shake of his head, Maverick skates off, leaving Knox and me alone on our side of the ice.
Even though I tell myself to focus on warm-ups and get my head on straight, I still find my gaze settling on the suite.
Knox follows my line of sight. “Looking for someone special, huh?”
I give him a bit of side-eye. “Maybe.”
He lets out a low whistle. “You must have been working on your manifestation skills because there she is.”
My eyes snap back to the glass at the upper bowl, and lock on Callie.
Nora is in her arms as she steps into view, her expression is a mix of nerves and determination. When her gaze lifts, it collides with mine. A small, quiet smile curves her lips.
Time slows as she shrugs off her coat, and everything in me falters.
Not only is she wearing my jersey, so is Nora.
When she turns to hug Willow, I catch sight of my name stretched across her back in crisp white lettering. The pride that fills me is almost enough to bring me to my knees.
I glide to a stop directly below them, and stare up like an idiot as Nora climbs into the seat beside Willow, trying to get Haven’s and Autumn’s attention.
Pressure swells inside me until it feels like it might just burst.
Knox taps my shin with his stick. “Come on, lover boy. We’ve got a game to win. There’s no damn way we can let McKinnon think he’s better than us. I don’t care if your sister is sleeping with the enemy or not.”
With a low laugh, I push off again and start moving. If I thought I was distracted before, it’s nothing compared to knowing that Callie and Nora are up there watching me. It feels like everything I’ve ever wanted is finally coming to fruition.
As much as I love seeing my woman wearing my jersey, I’m looking forward to stripping it off her body and making love to her once we get home.
I’m jerked from those thoughts when I get shoved from behind. After finding my balance, I swing around, prepared to knock Knox on his damn ass. The guy seriously doesn’t know when to quit.
Instead, I find Zane. His normally happy-go-lucky expression is nowhere in sight.
I straighten to my full height and glare at him. “What the hell is your problem?”
I know exactly what it is, though, and I should have been prepared for it. Especially after our last conversation.
Instead of meeting my gaze, his cuts past me and up toward the suite. “You really think that’s a good idea?”
“What I think,” I reply carefully, “is that if you gave a damn about Callie, you’d want the best for her. You’d be happy she found someone who treats both her and your daughter right.”
His jaw tics, the muscles clenching. “Callie’s not yours.”
“And she hasn’t been yours for years,” I fire back.
Zane skates closer until he’s crowding my space. “There are plenty of women you can screw around with. Pick one who doesn’t have my kid.”
Before I can wrap my lips around a response, he takes off.
It’s doubtful this is the end of it. I’d hoped he would cool off and think about what’s best for his ex, but apparently that’s not the case.
After ten more minutes, the players file off the ice as the starting lineup is announced. The puck is dropped and the game gets underway. As soon as it does, the noise fades and the rest of the world narrows to hockey.
It’s filled with quick shifts, clean passes, and hard checks.
It’s tight from the start.
Every line grinds it out, and every play becomes a battle.
No one can say Maverick isn’t on fire tonight, and I’m matching his energy with every shift.
Since we’re both defensemen, we don’t go head-to-head, but when our paths cross at the boards or at the blue line, neither of us hold back.
There’s pride in how we play. A mutual respect threaded into every shove, every sharp pass, every clean check.
But then the energy shifts. It would be impossible not to notice the extra hits that come my way. Or the elbows that get thrown after the whistle and the subtle jabs behind the play.
At first, it’s nothing major. It’s just enough to piss me off.
But that’s to be expected in a tight game.
What’s not anticipated?
That it’s coming from my own teammate.
Zane.
Initially, I second-guess my suspicions, figuring it’s accidental and I’m reading into things.
But then he catches me with an elbow as we pass on the bench, and shoves me harder than necessary when there’s a skirmish near the crease. He mutters something just out of earshot of the refs.
I grit my teeth and keep my head down. The guy is trying to get under my skin, and I refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing he hit a nerve.
No matter how much I ignore him, he refuses to back off.
During a board battle, we get tangled again.
Only this time, there’s nothing subtle about it.
His shoulder drives into my ribs. It’s sharp and deliberate.
The air gets knocked from me, and I stumble, twisting around with a glare.
But he’s already skating off. There’s nothing playful or remorseful about the look he throws over his shoulder.
It’s cold and calculated.
The guy is trying to rattle me.
Shake my focus.
For a moment, it almost works.
Until I glance up and find Callie. She’s watching from the suite, hand resting on Nora’s back. Her wide eyes are locked on mine and flooded with concern. Somehow, they manage to do the impossible and ground me.
I take a moment to center myself.
This game might be personal, but so is everything I’m playing for.
At every opportunity, Zane keeps pushing. He throws slashes that ride higher than they should. Knocks me off the puck any chance he gets. Elbows me in tight scrums when the refs aren’t looking.
I take every cheap shot and dirty play.
As hard as it is, I don’t retaliate.
Not yet.
During the media timeout, Oliver glides up beside me. “Hey, Thompson. Check out the Jumbotron.”
I look up, and there they are. Callie and Nora, front and center, caught by the camera.
The announcer’s voice booms through the arena. “Looks like number twenty-three has his own fan club in the house tonight! Check out those matching jerseys. Talk about too cute to handle!”
The crowd erupts, the noise vibrating through me. Nora grins so big it lights up the whole damn screen, and her arms flap like she’s ready to take flight. Beside her, Lilah, Rina, and my sister are laughing.
But it’s Callie who captures my attention. Our gazes lock, and my heart clenches so hard it feels like it might burst. She gives the smallest wave, her smile hesitant, discomfort evident beneath the spotlight.
Even so, all I can think is that she and Nora are mine.
They’re my girls.
I’m still riding high from that moment when the third period starts.
I dish the puck off to Knox, already shifting my weight to loop around when Zane barrels into me.
I don’t even see the hit coming. His shoulder crashes into mine, and I slam into the boards with a bone-rattling thud. My head snaps forward, and pain explodes across my ribs and down my arm.
The crowd gasps and the whistle shrieks. The trainer is on the ice before I’ve even caught my breath.
“Are you good?” he asks, squatting beside me, hands moving carefully over my body.
I grit my teeth and nod, even though it’s a lie. “I’m fine.”
It takes effort to push to my feet as my lungs burn and my vision swims. I glance up and find Callie standing, one hand pressed to the glass, eyes locked on mine.
There’s no way in hell I’m crawling off the ice.
Not in front of Zane.
The guy who’s supposed to be my teammate.
The one I considered a friend.
More importantly, I’m not crawling off in front of Callie.
I wave off the trainer and force myself upright, pushing through the fire blazing down my side. My skating is slow and steady as I pretend like the impact didn’t drive the air clean out of me.
When I reach the bench, Coach is already waiting. His face is red and his jaw is clenched tight enough to crack his molars.
“You two want to make a goddamn spectacle of yourselves?” he barks. “If you can’t keep it together, I’ll bench both your asses for the rest of the season.”
Zane shrugs like he doesn’t give a shit.
But I do.
I care about this team and our shot at taking home a Stanley this season.
I also care what happens if this locker room turns on itself.
Even more than that, I care about Callie and Nora, and doing what’s best for them.
I refuse to throw any of that away because Zane can’t get his larger-than-life ego in check.
The rest of the game passes by in a blur of adrenaline and impact.
My shoulder throbs. My ribs feel like they’ve been cracked in half.
Every time I think Zane’s cooled off, he clips me again.
Elbows, slashes, body checks that toe the line.
Always just subtle enough to look like nothing if you weren’t paying attention.
With gritted teeth, I play through it.
Every time I glance up at the suite and see Nora cheering, I remember exactly who I’m doing this for.
And when the final buzzer sounds and we edge out a win by a single goal, there’s no celebratory fist pump. Instead, I skate to the bench with sweat pouring down my back. Only then do I look up and find them watching me.
They’re still here.
I don’t give a shit if Zane keeps coming for me, trying to tear down what I’m building with his ex. I’ll take every fucking hit and keep on going.
Just as long as Callie and Nora are mine at the end of it all.