10. Veronica #3
“Let’s go win us a cup!” Emma cheers as the girls and I all pile into her SUV.
I pull out my phone and create a group chat with Noah and Gabe, shooting them one last quick text.
Me
Good luck again! I’ll be cheering for you both.
Husband #1
That’s our girl. Thanks, baby. Do I get a kiss if we win?
Me
Who knows…
Husband #1
Oh, we are so winning this game. See you after the game, Vixen
Husband #2
What about me?
Me
You boys are so demanding. I swear, worse than puppies.
Husband #1
But much better looking, right?
Me
Of course, Pretty Boy. Of course.
Me
Win the game, and we’ll see how things play out after.
Husband #1
Fuck yeah!
Husband #2
Thank you, Kitten.
NOAH
I glance at the clock. Nine minutes and fifty-seven seconds left. We’ve fucking got this. Turning my focus back to the game, I catch the Ranchers’ right winger racing down the ice with the puck, heading for me. I already know what he’s going to do and prepare for it.
At this point, they all feel their loss coming and aren’t playing strategically anymore. They’ll take whatever shot they can and hope luck is on their side. It’s fucking stupid if you ask me and a big mistake that won’t win them any points.
Time slows as I watch him lift his stick before bringing it back down to the ice, aiming for Ellis’s five-hole.
Second mistake. If this idiot was thinking clearly, he’d know Gabe is amazing at blocking his five-hole, certainly when he’s not moving.
He shoots the puck as I quickly move into its trajectory, pushing the end of my stick forward at the perfect second to deflect the puck toward Olchkov, my defense partner, who slaps it back down the ice and out of our zone.
Olchkov laughs, his deep Russian accent coming through as the wingers and centers skate after the puck where Clay catches it once it hits the offensive zone. “Feels like we’re playing against rookies tonight.”
I chuckle along with him. “Couldn’t agree more.” He’s right, I’m not sure what’s up with the Ranchers tonight, but they aren’t playing as well as they have these past few games. Although they’re definitely bringing out the physical game.
As if hearing my thoughts, I spot Greyson being thrown down by the asshole, Eric Gale, who lands right on top of him.
But if you ask me, it looks like it was purposely done and most likely is knowing him.
Everything from there happens quickly, Ford finally gets back to his skates and chases after him, sending Gale flying into the boards.
“Ah fuck…” I groan, knowing Grey will get in shit for that, and skate forward slowly, wondering if we should interfere. I don’t normally get involved with fights and stick by Ellis unless I’m personally aimed, but with this team things often get out of hand to the point where everyone jumps in.
I watch the two battle it out on the ground, blood splattering over the ice until finally they’re pulled apart, and I see Ford being pulled over to the penalty bench with a wide grin on his face.
“About fucking time!” I shout at him with a laugh as the crowd cheers and Gale gets taken off the ice, blood pissing from his nose.
The play starts up again and the Ranchers are instantly aggressive with every hit as they try once more to score a goal, while Olchkov and I attempt to send the puck back the other way.
We’re all in each other’s faces, bumping into one another while trying to get a hold of the puck when finally, Ellis covers it with his glove in the crease.
I expect the whistle to be blown by the ref immediately, but it doesn’t come and our opponents keep jabbing at Gabe’s glove with their sticks, trying to free the puck. “Digging!” I call out, hoping to wake up the ref from whatever the fuck he’s doing and stop the play.
Finally, the whistle blows and we all move back, but of course, the Ranchers aren’t having it and one of the fuckers purposely bumps into Gabe.
Within a split second, I’m up right behind him and shoving him to the ground.
“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH THE GOALIE!” I yell aggressively and the whistle goes off once more.
“He’s lucky you got to him before I did.” Olchkov chuckles as we bump fists on my way to the penalty box along with the shit head who started it.
I plop down next to Ford who’s almost done with his two-minute. “Good job on Gale. It was time someone put the asshole in his place,” I tell him.
He laughs. “Surprised I only got a minor for that one.”
“Nah, everyone knows he started that shit and fucking deserved it.”
“Well, thanks.” He stands and pats my shoulder, ready to get back out there now that his time is up. “And great job on defending our guard dog.” He salutes me before skating off.
The next few minutes pass by in a blink with only thirty seconds remaining on the clock.
We still have a nine-to-four lead, which if you ask me is unbelievable certainly in the playoffs, but as I said, they’ve been playing like rookies all night.
The girls are already all standing in their seats, clapping hands and cheering for what’s about to happen the instant it hits zero.
Gabe laughs his head off while the play is in the offensive zone. “We fucking did it! Holy shit, we fucking won!” he shouts, the widest grin plastered over his face as I look over my shoulder and find him moving around and wiggling his ass. “Come on, Adler! This deserves a victory dance!”
I shake my head at him despite the grin I carry and join in, moving my hips as Olchkov does the same a second later. I’m sure we look like idiots, but Gabe’s right, this deserves a victory dance.
Finally, the buzzer goes off and the crowd goes wild.
Gabe quickly leaves his post and tackles me into a bear hug, Olchkov doing the same as the rest of our team jumps over the boards in front of the players bench and skate our way with Ford, Burkley, and Hayes.
Soon, we’re a huge pile of hockey players on the ground, all laughing and shouting, unable to believe what just happened.
That we finally took the Stanley Cup home.
From there it’s all a blur of congratulations and cheers as the cup is brought out and we all get a chance to hold it.
The families and friends then join the ice, and hugs are passed all around while others take picture with the cup.
I spot Veronica congratulating the guys through the crowd and begin skating over to her, but Gabe beats me to it and whisks her off her feet from behind, doing a little circle around the rink as she laughs away.
He finally sets her down when I reach them and beams at her as she fixes her short dress back into place.
It’s a nice sparkling gold number that ends mid-thigh with long sleeves, accompanied by a pair of thigh-high black stiletto boots.
Her makeup is the usual blue winged eyeliner with subtle gold eyeshadow, giving her that feisty look I adore, while her blue and pink hair is curled with one side tucked behind her ear.
“God, you boys smell terrible, and now I’m all sticky.” Veronica wrinkles up her nose while wiping her hands along her dress as Gabe and I laugh. “I understand why Em said it was mandatory for us to bring spare clothes for the celebrations later on.”
“Ah, come on, Vixen. It’s not that bad,” Ellis says as he places his hand on her hip and tries to pull her in once more, but she pushes against his chest.
“It is. Don’t touch me.”
He gives her big puppy eyes and pouts. “But what about my kiss? You said if we win, I get a kiss.” A smirk grows on his lips as her eyes narrow to slits.
“Actually, I never said that. You did. I said we would see.”
“She’s kind of right.” I shrug when Gabe frowns at me.
“Bro, I’m trying to win us a kiss here and you’re not helping.”
Veronica rolls her eyes at us. “Ugh, you boys are truly way too demanding,” she grumbles then fists the front of Gabe’s jersey and pulls him down, smacking her lips to his before letting go.
She turns to face me next, grabs my jersey forcefully and does the exact same, delivering a bruising yet powerful kiss. “There, happy?”
Gabe’s grin grows even wider than before, now full open mouth, making him look goofy as hell, and all I can do is chuckle at how ecstatic he looks.
“Oh God! Stop that, you look ridiculous!” Veronica looks away with wide eyes, seeming extremely embarrassed, but then shrieks when Ellis wraps his arms around her once more and lifts her off the ground.
“Pretty Boy, no! I said stop it. Put me down! What don’t you understand with ‘you smell like shit’! ?”
He laughs and lets her go. “I just wanted a hug. We did just win a pretty big game, you know.”
“Fine,” she mumbles, delivering that eye roll again, but I don’t miss the smirk playing along her lips right before she glances my way. “Let me guess, you want one too?”
I smile and open my arms, letting her come to me. “I wouldn’t say no.”
“Might as well since I already smell like crap.” She steps into them immediately and I slowly wrap mine around her. “Congratulations, Casanova,” she whispers into my ear.
“Thank you, Kitten.”