CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO THEO
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
THEO
“Alright, boys, we need to lock the fuck in.”
All eyes are on Cross, our captain, as he stands in the center of the locker room, giving us a pep talk before we head out for the first period. We were home for a week before hopping back on the plane for a weekend away.
“We’ve beat these guys before.” He pauses, shaking his head.
The Blazers won the cup last season after we lost the conference finals to them, so yeah, there’s an added pressure.
An added mental fuck that they’re the best team in the league.
“We’re better than them. We play better hockey than they do. ”
He’s not lying. It just depends if the refs are going to play the devil tonight and have everything go wrong in our favor.
They have a habit of favoring the Blazers, although they would never come out and say it.
It’s hard to feel like the game isn’t rigged when we end up with more penalty minutes in the games against them than any other team.
“We can’t focus on what happened last season. This is a new season. New game.”
The room is quiet, the guys around the perimeter all bobbing their heads in unison. Coach walks in, his eyes scanning the room before nodding at Cross. Coach Ford’s a man of few words, but when he speaks it’s always with intention.
It always means something and every one of us hangs onto them like they’re delivered from god himself.
“Cross is right. You guys know how they’re going to play.
It’s going to be a physical game. It always is.
Don’t let them drag you into their bullshit after the whistle.
Don’t let them put you in a position where you end up taking the penalty.
” The muscle in his jaw tightens. “We cannot let them get in our fucking heads.”
He pins his gaze on Shaw’s. “Don’t take the bait.”
Shaw swallows hard, nodding as Coach’s gaze trails around to every other player in the room.
“We know their weak points.” He eyeballs our defensemen, primarily Vasily and Cross. “Keep them out of our fucking zone. No clean entries, at the bare minimum.”
His eyes land on me. “Their top pair struggle with speed. Keep your feet moving and you’ll get past them.”
I dip my chin. “Yes, Coach.” The adrenaline hums through my body. They’re a better team offensively. Their d-men aren’t the best in the league, but their goalie is a fucking brick wall.
“Keep things simple, boys. We need to dictate the pace from puck drop. Play fast, hit hard, but play clean.”
“Easy to say when we’re playing the dirtiest team in the league,” Matty mutters, shaking his head.
Coach pins his stare on him. “You don’t have to match their energy, just play smarter. Don’t let them get in your head.” Coach nods at all of us before disappearing from the room.
Cross grabs his helmet, sliding it over his head. “Come on, boys. We have work to do.”
Everyone’s on their skates, the room erupting in chatter, buzzing with palpable energy. This is our livelihood. Our careers. Our lives. We’re all in this room for a reason and it’s time for us to remind the other team that they’re not going to steamroll us.
We all grab our gloves and sticks and line up in the tunnel, waiting until it’s time for us to head out. Gray leads the pack, heading out first as we all make our way toward the ice. The lights are bright, the crowd and the music loud.
Moving past the line of trainers, I catch Lucy’s eye as we run our fists past them, knocking every single one on our way. Lucy smiles, her gaze soft on mine. “Good luck,” she mouths as I head past her. I can’t help but wink and head out onto the ice.
We all skate around in a circle, keeping our legs moving to keep our muscles warm. My heart pounds against my chest wall, threatening to break out through my ribs. My stomach is in knots, as it always is and I swallow back my nerves.
I’ve been playing professionally for four years now, yet the anxiousness before a game is still always there.
The announcer calls out our names and we all assemble along the blue line.
“We’re gonna fuck them up,” Shaw says to me, rocking back and forth on his skates.
The lights dim and we all pull off our helmets as a woman starts singing the national anthem.
I keep my legs moving, the blood pumping through my body, slowly looking around the arena.
I glance over at the bench, my eyebrows drawing together as I see Lucy standing next to Tucker.
Usually, Gage, the equipment manager, is there with him and Lucy’s tucked down the tunnel.
What the hell is she doing out here?
She’s not protected standing there.
I slide on my helmet after the singing concludes and quickly sprint over to the bench. “She shouldn’t be here,” I yell to Tucker, shaking my head.
Lucy’s eyebrows lower and she looks like she’s about to murder me.
“So help me god, Simmons,” Coach snaps at me, his gaze cold. “Get to the fucking circle.”
My chest tightens and I look back and forth between him and Lucy. “She can’t be out here.”
“Last warning, Theo, or your ass is benched the rest of the night.”
Lucy gives me another murderous look. Fuck. I blow out a breath of frustration, spinning around and sprinting back to center ice, wasting more energy than I can afford to lose. The entire arena is loud and buzzing with electricity.
Lock in, Theo. I can’t afford to fuck up.
But I can’t afford Lucy getting hurt.
Matty glances over at me. “You good?”
“Yeah,” I lie, dipping my head as I lower my stick onto the ice. “Let’s fucking go.”
Matty nods, his hand sliding down toward the blade of his stick as he coasts into the center, stopping at the face-off dot. Time is suspended. The noise around us fades away. I ignore the guy next to me, watching and waiting for the puck to hit the ice.
The ref drops the puck and Matty wins the draw clean, sending it back to Vasily. The other team is immediately on us, already swarming as Vasily sends it up to Shaw. My blades cut into the ice as I accelerate, skating into their zone as we maintain possession of the puck.
We get a shot and a rebound, both blocked by their goalie before they skate the puck past the blue line, passing it down the ice into our zone. Vasily blocks a shot and Cross sends it back to Shaw. I skate past the bench, hopping the boards as the puck moves back into the Pythons defensive zone.
My chest is tight and I’m out of breath as I drop down onto the bench. Coach bends over close, his voice in my ear. “Don’t give me a reason to bench you, Simms. We need you out there.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, staring out at the ice as I grab my water bottle. I glance over my shoulder, looking toward the tunnel where Lucy’s still standing. Her gaze finds me, and she purses her lips.
I squirt some water into my mouth and swallow hard and look at Coach.
It’s like he’s avoiding looking at me with his arms crossed over his chest, watching the game play.
The whistle blows as the other team is offside.
“Coach. She’s pregnant. If she catches a stray puck, you know that wouldn’t be good. ”
His eyes flick to mine. “It’s her job, Simmons.”
“And what happens if she gets hit in the stomach? Or the head?” My throat tightens. “What if something happens to her?”
His eyes narrow and he holds my gaze for a second, before nodding. He turns to Nathan Frost, our assistant coach. “Tell Tucker Lucy can’t be this close to the ice for safety reasons.”
Frost looks at Coach, then at me and then dips his head in acknowledgement. He quickly walks over to Tucker, speaking in his ear before moving back to his spot on the bench. Play resumes and Shaw taps me with his elbow, gaining my attention.
“Pay attention, Simms. We’re out next.”
I suck in a breath, squirt some water into my mouth and rise to my feet, getting ready to hop back over the boards. Just before I do, I look back Lucy’s direction, and my stomach drops as I meet her gaze.
Her face is red, her gaze cold and she’s visibly pissed off.
She holds my stare for a second longer before she spins on her heel, marching down the tunnel.
I can’t fault her for being mad, but I can’t fault myself for making the call.
I jump the boards, my blades hitting the ice.
I skate into their zone, chasing after the puck.
At the end of the day, Lucy and the baby being safe are my main concern and if I piss her off by protecting her, so be it.
Consequences be damned…