25. Mason #2
Now, I just had to hope she wasn’t drenched. I got in my car, ignoring the soggy squelch when I sat. I pulled around the lot and my headlights flashed over the side of the building.
Lilah stood with her hood tugged up over her head, huddled under the dining hall overhang with a couple other people.
I hopped out of my car, leaving the door open.
“Lilah!” I called out and spun back to the car to grab an umbrella from the trunk.
She ran toward me and I met her more than halfway with the black golf umbrella already up.
“Umbrella service!” She hugged me. Water from my drenched shirt soaked into her coat. “You’re soaking wet. Where did you come from? The team bus left ten minutes ago.”
“Doesn’t matter. Sorry I’m late.” I tucked some of her hair behind her ear and crashed my lips down on hers.
A small noise of surprise escaped her before another of need threatened to overwhelm us both.
I took her hand. “Let’s go home.”
She squeezed it. “You’re in an extra good mood after this win.”
“Some wins are bigger than others.”
No more sneaking around and hiding. My father knew and it hadn’t blown up into the shit show I’d expected, with him telling me that I couldn’t see her and then me sneaking behind his back because there wasn’t anything he could do to keep me from Lilah.
And I’d prove she was the incentive I needed for this final push.
All I had to do was not make a single mistake on the ice and win a state championship after three seasons of failures.
I faltered, the weight of those expectations squeezing my chest tight.
I shook it off. Play hard and smart on the ice, applying so much pressure my enemies didn’t even have a chance to breathe.
I could do that. Never let up on the pressure, deliver wins and not give my father a single thing he could point to as to why Lilah needed to no longer be in my life.
I’d do whatever it took if it meant we could be together.
Coach Wilson held a stick in his gloved hands as he skated past everyone sitting and standing in the team box.
“I know we all want this championship. For my seniors, this is the last chance.”
I nodded, sweat rolling down my back.
“We need to work on the crossovers. Galen’s got a supernatural ability to always know where the puck is going to be, but let’s not test his powers of premonition too hard out there.”
A rumbling of chuckles rippled across the bench.
Coach directed us back onto the ice. Keeping my singular focus on my teammates and the puck, I blocked out everything else in the world. Shut it all down to lead my team to the championship.
Forty minutes later, I relished my aching muscles. They brought me closer to the goal. Sweaty and satisfied that I’d be even stronger after putting in the work, I walked off the ice.
Dane Larson sat in the row closest to the top of the tunnel leading to the locker room.
I froze, then whipped my head around to scan the stands for my father. But Bair had a game tonight, so that was where he would be.
A few of the guys went over to shake his hand or get him to sign their sticks, but I knew he was here for me. Everyone else had signed commitment letters. Mine was waiting for me too, once the championship banner hung from Hawthorne’s rafters.
I walked over to him.
“Why are you wasting your time here? There have got to be better prospects.”
“You think there are that many other players out there who’re better than you?”
“Hell no, I only meant there have to be some who aren’t committed yet.”
He grinned. “There’s that confidence I love to see. Don’t you think my job as a coach is to field the best uncommitted players out there?”
“But I am committed.”
“Did you sign a letter and I missed the news?”
I shifted, leaning a little heavier on my stick. “No, but it’s only a matter of time.”
“You’re finally going to clinch that championship?”
“There’s no other option.”
He hit me with an assessing look. “I believe you, which is why I don’t think me being here is crazy at all.
And I don’t want to be a pushy asshole, but sometimes a little consistent effort is needed.
Seattle can be the next step you need to create a path of your own outside of your father and brother’s shadow.
Although I can admit it’s not a bad one to follow.
Think about it is all I’m asking. You’ve got some true talent that I’d hate to see stifled by feeling like there’s only one way to achieve all you can. ” He extended his hand.
I tugged off my glove and shook it.
His words lingered in my head while I showered, changed and walked back to school. Most lights were off, but as usual, Lilah’s figure in the sewing lab windows moved from one side of the room to the other.
When I opened the door, she popped her head up from the project she was helping another girl with. Natalie was her name. She was in the lab at least half the time, working on something.
The second Lilah smiled, the rest of the world fell away.
Aches, pains, fatigue that made two flights of stairs feel like ten—it all dissolved with one smile from her.
How had I ever convinced myself to work for anything other than her absolute blinding happiness?
And we only had four more months left together.
How was I supposed to wake up day after day, week after week, month after month without seeing her, holding her, kissing her? I had no idea how I’d make it through, so I took every chance to kiss her.
Her noise of surprise when I wrapped my arms around her waist and tugged her against me revved a primal hunger in me, but I shoved it down, not wanting to move things too fast.
But there wasn’t a thing in the world that could stop me from wanting Lilah. And all I had to do to keep her was never lose.