Chapter 23 Nick
TWENTY-THREE
NICK
The three of us piled into my truck and headed into Chance Rapids.
It was me, Rocky, and Evie; and nothing had ever felt more complete in my life.
I’d come to Chance Rapids a lonely single man who was failing at his career, and now I had a place on a river, with the cutest dog, and a… dare I say it—girlfriend.
The only complicated thing in my life was going to be the fallout from my arrangement with Coalman. It would be messy, but going through with the plan to fix the game seemed like a betrayal of the worst kind.
The parking lot was already filling up as we arrived. Evie was going to drop me off at the rink and then pick up GJ in my truck. I put Berta in Park, cut the engine, then kissed Evie on the cheek and handed her the keys. “Where are you going to sit?”
“Are you kidding?” She laughed and pointed to the rink. “GJ has VIP tickets. We’ll be in that gold row.” A line of plush seats sponsored by local businesses sat in front of the metal bleachers.
We got out and met at the hood. Wrapping my arms around her, I squeezed her tightly. “You’re incredible. Last night was the best night of my life.”
Her blue eyes sparkled as she looked at me. “Now go have the best day of your life, Number Nine.”
Adrenaline surged through my body, although it was different than the sport kind; I’m not an expert, but I had the feeling it was the love kind.
I kissed her once more then opened the door to pat Rocky on the head.
“You keep an eye on her.” Rocky tilted his head to lean into the scratch then curled up on the passenger seat.
I waited until the taillights of my truck were out of sight before heading into the dressing room.
Life was good.
The first time I pressed into Evie, I swore out loud, she was so fucking tight.
The second time we made love, the moon had been over the river, shining directly into the loft.
We fucked like we’d known each other’s bodies for twenty years—but with the novelty and excitement of two strangers doing it for the first time.
We explored each other but instinctively seemed to know what the other needed and wanted.
At least that’s how it felt to me. We had moved in sync.
My hands gripped her hips as she rocked against my body, but I didn’t have to guide her.
I came first, and faster than I would’ve liked.
She did me in when she turned around and did a reverse cowgirl.
I’d seen her skills at riding horses, and that translated to riding my cock.
The second round, I’d brought her to the brink with my mouth, leaving her quivering on the sheets before pressing into her warmth.
I threaded my fingers through hers and she wrapped her thighs around my waist. We’d come at the same time—and that was a new one for me.
She’d moaned out my name at the same time as my balls tightened, her walls contracting around my dick as I filled the condom.
“Yo, Tinsel. What are you doing just standing there?”
Mack slapped me on the back and jogged into the temporary dressing room. I blinked. The game. I needed to get my head out of pussy and into hockey. I cleared my throat and adjusted the semi in my pants.
The walls of the temporary building buzzed. Chaser had brought a huge speaker, and “Thunderstruck” shook its walls. It was game time, and my energy kicked up a notch or ten.
Coach came in and gave what would’ve been a motivational speech—if I didn’t have insider info. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. He repulsed me, and in turn, I was disgusted at myself that I’d even entertained fixing the game.
I breathed out as Coach left the building. In the best-case scenario, the Eagles wouldn’t get any shots. I could control what went into the net when it got there, but if nothing was shot at me, it was out of my hands. It would be easy to explain how I failed the “mission.”
In the distance, the crowd cheered. The Chance Rapids Kittens, the five-year-olds, were putting on an exhibition match.
Following up those cute little bastards was going to be tough.
There was nothing more adorable than a bunch of kids on skates, hovering around the puck like a swarm of bobblehead bees.
While ACDC blared out of Chaser’s speaker, I rested my elbows on my knees and got serious. I tuned out the music and laughter in the dressing room. I imagined pucks hitting my glove, bouncing off my pads, and the disappointment of a breakaway player as I blocked his shot.
One of the volunteers wearing a headset and holding a clipboard stuck his head into the dressing room. “Five minutes, guys.”
Before the door closed, Coach stepped into the room and pointed at me. I inhaled sharply. I’d hoped to avoid a Coalman conversation until after the game. I was in the right headspace; a confrontation might knock me out of the zone.
He waved for me to follow him to his office around the corner. I pointed to the metal stairs and then to my skates. “I can’t come up there.” He stood on the steps and looked each way. “My guys were just here. I need to make sure that we’re good.”
“What do you mean, your guys were just here? The scouts?”
“No.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “It was the guys who need the Eagles to win. They mean business, Nick.”
“The scouts are here though, right?”
“Come on, Nick. You’re a good player, but if you were going to be in the NHL, you’d already be there.”
In the distance, the announcer introduced the Windswan Eagles. A respectful applause filtered through the chilly air as each player took the ice. “I’ve got to go.”
“Nick. You know what to do. You’re still getting ten grand.”
“Yes. I know exactly what to do.” I walked back to the rink and wondered if the set of dogprints next to the size seven bootprints had been there a few minutes earlier.
I tilted my head as the familiar sound of my truck starting filled the gaps between the player introductions.
Stopping, I turned to look at the parking lot but didn’t see anything but parked cars.
The crowd erupted, drowning out any other noise. I was imagining things and I had to get Evie out of my head. Those footprints weren’t hers and Rocky’s, they had likely been there for days.
“Where have you been?” Chaser pushed me onto the ice. He always went on last. I glided onto the ice and the announcer read out my stats. The crowd cheered and a bunch of shutout number 9 signs popped up over the fan’s heads.
I tuned out the noise of the crowd and went into my stretching routine. Fuck Coalman. I cared a lot more about the town, Evie, and my reputation here to worry about disappointing a bunch of bad guys. I was going to stop every single puck that was shot at me.
Helicopters hovered overhead, and rails along the side of the rink held professional cameramen who whizzed back and forth, following the action. The Chance Rapids Classic was only going to be aired on the local stations, but from the tech, you’d think it was game seven in the Stanley Cup Finals.
By the end of the first period no one had scored, but the Eagles were outskating us. The Windswan players were better on outside ice than inside. Chaser lived up to his name, and Mack struggled to stop their top players.
After the first period, Coach gave us a boilerplate speech and didn’t look at me.
When we returned to the glassy ice surface for the second period, I let myself study the stands.
The Chance Rapids fans were all wearing green and the Windswan Eagles, orange.
The stands were clearly split in half by the two opposing colors.
In the first period we were at the friendly end, the green zone, which was good because it meant we’d finish up the third period with the fans next to us—but the second period we were on the orange side.
Which meant I couldn’t see the VIP seats. It was just a row of orange hats.
The second period was better as the Bobcats found their stride. Mack had figured out how to handle the Eagles’ right-wingers, using his bulk to keep them pressed to the edge, where they couldn’t execute proper strides or handle the puck.
It was turning into my best-case scenario. There weren’t any shots taken that I could’ve even let in the net if I wanted to.
When we took to the ice for the third period, I skated along the far side so I could get a good look at the home team’s VIP section.
“Go Nick!” GJ stood up and raised her hands above her head as I glided past. True to her word, she was wearing her vintage jersey, but was also wearing a green Bobcats bucket hat. “Yay, Nicky!” Clementine sat to her right, the seat to her left was…empty.
I blinked. Where was Evie?
The ref dropped the puck and the Bobcats won the face-off.
I looked to the VIP section again, hoping that Evie had gone to get popcorn or something, but she still wasn’t there.
The bleachers shook as the fans stomped their feet as Chaser got a breakaway.
He took a shot from the blue line, but it was deflected.
“Don’t look, don’t look,” I whispered to myself as the puck changed hands.
I looked. She still wasn’t there.
Matt Whittier, their fastest player, barreled down the ice, his gaze fixed on mine. I readied myself and tried to read his moves. Luckily Mack intercepted him. Simultaneous groans and cheers filled the air as Whittier went down on one knee.
Chaser picked up the puck and the action returned to the far end.
Fourteen minutes passed and Evie still wasn’t there. The crowd was whipped into a frenzy. There was less than a minute to go in regulation time and no one had scored. They were rabid for some action.
The Eagles won the face-off and Whittier flew up the right side. Mack skated backward, and as Whittier arced to center ice, Mack hit him from behind.
The ref blew the whistle. Mack was getting a cross-checking penalty.
It was the last minute of the game, and the Eagles were on a fucking power play.
One more look. Everyone in the stands was on their feet. GJ’s hands were clenched in front of her. The seat beside her, still vacant. Where the hell was Evie?
Five Eagles players took on four Bobcats. The clock ticked and the play stayed in the Eagles’ end. Then Whittier got the puck, deked our defenseman, and headed straight up the middle of the ice. The guy was fast. Every shot he’d taken had been low, and I prepared for a five-hole shot.
His eyes were dark behind his fishbowl mask, the bottom section fogged with his breath. He dangled the puck. I was ready for it. I dropped to my knees. He faked then went high. I scrambled to my feet. The puck tipped the edge of my trapper.
Everything went into slow motion. I couldn’t recover it. The puck spun in an arc, falling into the net behind me one second before the clock ran out. The orange section of the stands went crazy. Fireworks went off and pumpkin-colored confetti fluttered down onto the ice.
Had that just happened? I flicked the puck out of the net then turned and rested my helmet on the crossbars.
Fuck.
I took a deep breath and even though I didn’t want to, I looked at GJ. Clementine was hugging her. I lifted my helmet and mouthed, I’m sorry.
She smiled and then…blew me a kiss.
The Bobcats surrounded me. “I can’t believe that just happened,” I whispered to Chaser.
“It’s all right, man.” He patted me on the shoulder pads. “We’ll get them next year.”
After the postgame handshakes, I followed the team on our walk of shame to the dressing room. They were putting on good faces, but I knew they were disappointed in me. I’d been brought in to help them win, and I’d let them down.
“Tinsel,” Coalman barked at me from the pathway that led to his office. That asshole was the last person I wanted to see. I’d lost the game, and he didn’t have any damn scouts. It was all for nothing.
“What?”
He walked to me and gave me a hug, holding me hostage while he whispered in my ear, “Good work. You had me worried there. Your money is in your cubby in the dressing room. There might even have been some scouts here, you never know.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“I know.” He shrugged. “At least you have ten grand and can leave this shithole town like you planned.”
It wasn’t the first time I’d been let down by an authority figure, but it still stung. He might as well have slapped me. I was seething mad and he knew it. He retreated into his office with his tail between his legs before I could say anything, or lunge at him.
I’d choked, so it didn’t even matter if there had been scouts at the game. He wasn’t going to get away with this. I was going to expose Coalman, even if it meant that I had to go down with him.
“I can’t believe you.”
I turned to face Evie and Rocky. “Here’s your jacket, you forgot it in the trunk.” She tossed it to me. “I thought that you might need it for the parade. I came here to give it to you before the game in case I couldn’t find you after.”
The world tilted like I was drunk. Those were her tracks I’d seen before the game. “Evie. I—”
“Don’t.” She pointed at me. “Don’t you dare stand there and tell me I didn’t hear everything about your sick deal with that ‘coach.’” She used air quotes for the word coach.
“This game might not have meant anything to you, or I guess, it meant ten grand, but,” she pointed to the stands, “it means the world to them.”
I moved toward her. “It’s not what you think. Let me explain.”
“No, Nick. You’re right. You are a bad person.”
“Evie.” I dropped my helmet and gloves on the ground and rushed to her.
“Stay away from me, Nick. Forever.”
“Evie. I…” I had lost the game, but not for the reasons she thought. I couldn’t let her walk away thinking I had done it on purpose. “I was going to do it, but then you…this town…the s’mores…Rocky…”
She shook her head and swiped at the tears on her face with her mitten.
“Goodbye, Nick. Merry Fucking Christmas.” She threw the keys to the truck at me. I fumbled them and they dropped into the snowbank beside me.
“Wait, please.”
She didn’t look back.