Chapter 54
~Deacon~
The lights dim, the crowd roars, and the music thumps the familiar beat of our team’s anthem as I follow my teammates onto the ice.
“Ladies and gentlemen, your Sioux Falls Wolves!” the announcer’s voice booms over the loudspeaker, and somehow, the crowd gets even louder. Spotlights circle the ice, catching each of us in their momentary glare as we break into some quick drills to start the warm-up.
It’s the first official game of the season, on home ice, and among the sea of faces in the crowd, the lights hit Daley’s right when I look up to the section where I know she’ll be.
Like a beacon. Like coming home. Like she’s the only one in the whole damn arena.
She didn’t come to the last two preseason games, avoiding the press for a little longer, but tonight, she’s here, cheering proudly in the custom jersey I got for her.
On the back, instead of one name and number, it has two: River’s and mine.
I won’t ever take her son’s place in her heart, and I don’t want to.
She’s got room for both of us, and now her back does too.
“Feelin’ good, Deke?” River asks as he comes to stand next to me by the blue line, lining up for a chance to take some practice shots. “How’s the nose?”
“As long as no one hits it with a stick, it’s fine.” I’m still wearing the full faceguard and will be for a few more weeks, but it’s healing well. It only hurts a little when Daley kisses me now, and as far as she knows, it doesn’t hurt at all. “How’re you feeling?”
River played well during the preseason games, well enough for the coaching staff to give him a spot on the starting roster. He made some mistakes, but we all do, and the only thing he needs to improve is time on the ice, playing against the best. He’ll give it his all.
“Like it’s the first game all over again,” he admits, eyes darting up to the crowd around us before coming back to me. “When did you stop feeling nervous before every game?”
“Who says I’m not nervous?”
I flash him a smile to let him know I’m joking, mostly, before taking the puck that’s passed to me and shooting it straight between the goalie’s legs.
Tonight, we’re playing the team that knocked us out of the playoffs last year, so not only do we want to get the season off to a good start, but our honour is at stake too.
I take the opening faceoff, elbowing my opponent out of the way as I snap the puck back to Erik on my left.
The play starts there, between the lines, long before we ever get to a shot on net.
One small decision can alter the course of the game. One shot taken can be the difference. Goal or missed opportunity. Win or lose.
Just like walking up to a beautiful blonde at a bar in Vegas changed the course of my life.
The other team clears the puck from their end, and we change lines, shuffling onto the bench with everyone breathing heavily. Forty seconds going all-out on the ice takes as much energy as a sprint, and we only get a minute or two’s rest before we’re back out there again.
I get the puck in the corner on my next shift and the opposing team’s centre slams me into the boards a second after I pass it off. Erik takes a shot that the goalie stops and the whistle blows.
“Didn’t get your face, did I?” the guy who just body-checked me asks. Unlike Brady, there’s no sarcasm in the question; he genuinely wants to be sure he didn’t aggravate my injury.
“Nah, you gotta hit me harder than that,” I tease, and he grins before the puck drops again and we both take off in pursuit.
The game is fast, everyone eager to make a game-changing play, but the first goal doesn’t come until nearly the end of the first period.
We’ve got all five of our guys in the other team’s zone and I take the puck behind the net, weighing my options.
Erik’s on my right but he’s got a guy on him.
Magnus is in front of the net, the angle a little too tight for me to get him a clean pass.
Out on the blue line, River’s got one corner and Jake’s on the other.
I fake left and everyone shifts that way, but just before I reach the corner of the net, I pull back and go right instead.
River anticipates the move, moving out into the open and my pass hits his stick dead in the centre.
He winds up the slapshot he’s been practicing all month, and it sails over the goalie’s shoulder on the stick side.
When the red light flashes, my first instinct is to find River’s face.
The kid’s eyes are wide, stunned for half a second before realization hits and his arms shoot into the air.
The same way mine did, years ago, when I got my first goal in this league. It feels like a full-circle moment, especially when my gaze snaps up to Daley in the crowd, jumping up and down, clutching onto Jane in the seat next to her, and my chest swells so much, it feels like it might burst.
In past seasons, I would’ve been singularly focused, my mind on nothing but the ice. Tonight, though, I feel Daley’s calm, supporting presence surrounds me. Rather than being a distraction, it makes me feel grounded.
Winning used to be everything but now, it’s just part of the bigger picture.
By the time the game ends, the other team has scored twice but we’ve added three more, winning in convincing style. It’s a great start to the season, both for the team and for me personally, since two of the goals were mine along with my assist to River.
It’s the rookie defenceman that everyone pounces on back in the locker room, though. Before he can register what’s happening, three of the guys pick him up while two others pull his skates off.
“What the fuck? Put me down!” he shouts, but his squirming is useless and his pleas are ignored. Still fully clothed, the perpetrators toss him into the showers and turn on all the showerheads, holding him in place until he’s thoroughly soaked.
From the doorway, I keep an eye on proceedings, but I don’t intervene. It’s a Wolves rite of passage: first goal gets you a shower in your uniform. Internally, I cringe for our poor equipment managers.
After taking a shower of my own, without the uniform, I head out to do my stop in the media room.
One of the reporters asks how I feel about the season, and my answer comes easily. “We’ve got a great team. We went pretty far last year, and I think we can do even better this time around. When something clicks, it clicks, and this team is clicking. We’re going to give it everything we have.”
“What about the rumours that your new girlfriend has already moved in with you?” someone else asks.
The thought of Daley brings a smile to my face; I can’t help it. “Like I said: when something clicks, it clicks.”
Daley and Jane are waiting outside the team doors, along with the usual crowd of fans. She holds back while I sign autographs and take pictures, and Jane and I exchange a few friendly words before Daley and I say goodnight to her.
On the drive home, I’m quiet, letting Daley share her excitement about the game and her perspective of it from the crowd, but mostly, I’m distracted by the sight of her in that jersey, wearing my name on her back.
As soon as we make it inside, I pull her over to the couch, removing all of her clothing except that jersey.
“How do you still have so much energy?” she pants as I part her legs, running my tongue up her inner thighs until I reach her warm, wet pussy.
“You’re the one who likes to go to bed at nine, not me,” I tease her. “Some of us are still young.”
She swats my shoulder playfully, and when my gaze meets hers from my spot between her legs, I see the words swimming in her eyes even before she says them.
“I love you, Deacon.”
I used to think hearing my name called on the night of my NHL draft was the best thing I ever heard, but it might have just been bumped down to second place.
“That’s good,” I hum, letting my tongue flick across her sensitive skin. “Because I love you too, and you’re going to be stuck with me for a long, long time. Especially since I’m probably going to outlive you.”
“Watch it,” she laughs, the sound morphing into a gasp as my lips connect with her clit.
“I’m watching all of it, Mama. And it’s the best damn thing I’ve ever seen.”