Chapter Nine
ETHAN
After wrapping the blade of my stick, I move to the knob.
I wrap the blue across the top, twist it, then wrap it once more at the bottom of the grip I’ve created.
I place the blue tape back in my bag and grab the white to cover it.
Is it a superstition to do it this way, possibly?
However, hockey players are some of the most superstitious people I’ve ever met.
And don’t even get me started on goalies.
Hiding my favorite color away so it never mattered what team I was playing for.
“Ready, Miller?” Jude taps his stick twice on the ground to gain my attention.
I glance up at him. “Yeah.” My face stays straight.
Of course I’m ready, physically and mentally. I was ready to hit the ice and play for the Lonestar Bobcats since I attended my first game in this very stadium.
My nerves have nothing to do with the game, the small crowd, or being on a new team.
The only thing keeping me on the edge of my seat is a fiery little redhead who’s been avoiding me since the dinner at her cousin’s place a week ago.
I know she’ll be out there watching, too.
The Miles family always shows up to support one another.
They don’t do small; they do big and over the top.
It’s not like I wish she weren’t here. I need her here, fucking crave it. If she would let me get within shouting distance of her, I’d never let her forget it. She occupies every spare thought I have and creeps into times I shouldn’t even be thinking of her. Like right. The fuck. Now.
“Let’s do this.” I stand and move over to the center of the room where the team is slowly gathering around the team logo on the carpet.
“They say it’s just like practice.” Jude Becker, the team captain, speaks up. “As if this little scrimmage isn’t a big deal.” He laughs, then his face goes straight. “But we’re going against our long-time rival, the cheeseburgers.”
The cheeseburgers isn’t the actual name of the team.
Their mascot is the cheetah, but this rivalry goes back years ago to when two brothers played on opposing teams. Let’s just say these brothers weren’t close and they both only hyped up their teams to not hold back.
That feeling only grew with each player over the years.
“They’re in our house.” Andrew taps the foot of his stick to the ground once and the rest of the team copies.
“This is our ice, and nobody—nobody—comes into our house and walks away with a win, especially not them.” He chuckles.
“When that puck drops, we’re not holding back.
I want fire.” A tap of his stick and the rest of the team follows.
“I want grit.” Another tap. “Hit hard. Skate fast.” Another tap. “Let’s go, boys.”
A quiet takes over the group as we collectively ground ourselves, then leave the locker room.
We gather in the hall leading to the ice and can hear the crowd booing the entrance of the other team and it brings a cocked smile to my face.
With my helmet in place and my stick in my left hand, I slowly edge forward with the rest of the team.
The music starts and I can hear the announcement and the cheers start from the other side as we make our way out to the ice.
This is the moment. It’s out here on the ice where I prove myself. It wasn’t easy getting traded to the Lonestar Bobcats; I need to prove I belong here. Practice is one thing, but this is something else. Especially knowing the first game is against the damn Cheetahs. Fucking cheeseburgers.
Blue and pink lights scan over the ice, adding to the atmosphere as the music plays and I step onto the ice with my team.
I glide across the ice as the team starts hitting pucks at the net.
My eyes find the section I know she’ll be at.
It’s the same seats Andrew’s family always gathers at, right against the glass.
They’re next to the sin bin and I smile, knowing I’m going to see her more than I thought.
I skate near the penalty box, knowing that is typically where the Miles family sits. They like to be at the glass near the net where we will spend the first and third period. It’ll be too tempting to find myself in the sin bin, but I can’t be too eager. If I get called out, it needs to be worth it.
Turning around, I move down to stretch. Stretching isn’t something I prioritized until I went pro. One wrong pull and you could be out for most of the season. Stretching is integral.
I also pick this spot to stretch because it’s near the Miles family.
Looking over my shoulder, I catch her looking.
I smirk and turn back to the ice. After a little more stretching, I join the rest of the team, skating on our side while shooting for the goal.
The music is loud over the speaker, covering the noise of the crowd.
I glance at the giant screen to see it’s almost time.
As soon as the buzzer sounds, game mode takes over.
The first string is on the ice and I lock in on the game, knowing my time will come soon enough.
One coach says something in my ear, but I’m too zoned in and it takes me a second for it to register.
As second line, I head for the ice when Becker skates to the bench.
The first period passes in a little bit of a blur. We head to the locker room with a score of one to one. It’s always a close game when the Bobcats play the Cheetahs.
It’s quiet in the locker room during the intermission. The tv mounted in the corner shows the countdown and the ice girls out on the ice, but nobody in this locker room is paying attention. We’re all zoned out.
Andrew stretches out on the floor, giving his back a break after beautifully defending our goal for multiple shots attempted.
I try to keep my head in the zone, but thoughts of Daisy soon take over when there are no true distractions. All I can think about is getting back to the ice and gaining her attention. I want her eyes on me.
The second period starts and Connor sneaks one into the goal, putting us back in the lead with two to one. There’s excitement on the ice, but also an eery calm in the arena.
I know why. There have been no fights. I’m pretty sure someone shouted “someone hit someone” earlier.
I take a glance over at my girl to see her standing and cheering with the others.
She’s front and center because she’s right behind the glass.
I watch her turn towards someone and get annoyed at the sight.
I understand she’s supporting her cousin, but this will be the last fucking time she’s wearing a jersey that doesn’t have my name on it. And someday hers.
“Miller, what made you go to such a loser team?” Number four of the cheetah’s skates pass me.
“Yeah, you’re still playing for the cheeseburgers and yet they refuse to give you anything more than a one year contract.” I chuckle.
“What made you come back? Couldn’t cut it when you attempted the big city life?”
‘Yeah, and I’ve seen better hands on a clock.” I shake my head.
I know he’s trying to figure out which buttons to press, but it ’s not going to work. Another member of the cheetahs skates over. “Damn, who’s the babe?” I know where he’s looking. “Oh look, it’s their goalie’s cheering section. Family is great. Think he’d let me join? I’d love a piece of—”
Red. Fucking red.
I’m not sure who takes the first swing. There’s been chirping since before the game even started, it was only a matter of time. The hit comes a split second after someone yanks my helmet off. Even the ref nearby isn’t enough to pull us apart before more hands are thrown.
Cheers erupt in the stands as more players join. It’s not until the other refs and a few players are helping separate us when I think to glance over at her. Her brows furrow. She looks pissed. At who? I’m not fucking sure.
They escort me to the penalty box, thankfully I’m not the only one. The cherry on top is me watching one ref escort one of the fucking cheetahs off the ice entirely. Worth it. I slip my helmet back on and look to my left to see Daisy staring at me. She shakes her head before laughing.
I wink at her, then return my focus to the ice. My gaze flickers between the game and the clock. My legs shakes with anticipation as I know the timer is on until I can return to the game. When the door finally opens for me, I skate fast.
I make it to them just in time to see Andrew knock a puck away from the goal. I spin around to back him up and pass the puck to Olsson. He skates with it across the ice and we’re back to the other side.