Chapter 28 - Hunter
Hunter
I shook off the lingering adrenaline from pre-game jitters, taking my position in the crease.
The first period started with a flurry. LA came out aggressive, their forwards circling, testing the edges.
The puck skated fast, sticks clashing, and the first shot of the night came from Doughty.
I dropped low, tracking the angle, letting the pad cover the post just as the puck rocketed toward the corner. My blocker snapped it away. One down.
I caught my breath and scanned the ice. The Surge defensemen were hustling, Theo barking instructions from the blue line.
“Line up, keep the lanes closed!” I shouted back over the roar, catching the puck and sending it up to the wing. The rhythm started to settle, the play, the flow, the danger lancing through every second.
Midway through the second, the Kings managed a break.
Three-on-two, speed and menace. I had to commit early, read the pass, anticipate the angle.
Kopitar skated hard toward the net, eyes narrowed.
The puck slid across, a pass meant to slice the defense.
I lunged, extending my glove arm, and snagged it. My heart did a slow, rolling cartwheel.
Theo clapped me on the shoulder. “God, I love a man with safe hands! Give it to me, baby!”
The roar of the home fans and the jeers from the away section were a blur. My eyes caught movement in the stands. Holly. Bright, unmistakable. Her hair in a ponytail, face lit up. She was even clapping, that stupid iPad nowhere to be seen.
And just like that, every nerve in my body fired in a new way. Not just for the win, or for the team, but because she was there. Because I had one person in the stands who didn’t need me to play my best game, but wanted me to.
By the third period, the score was tight.
3-3. Every shift felt like walking a tightrope over a pit of fire.
Kings had possession, cycling the puck around their end like predators.
I felt the sweat drip under my mask, the damp stickiness of the pads clinging.
Every shot felt faster, every slapshot a little more violent, every rebound a test of my reflexes.
Then came the power play. Kings up a man.
A cross-ice feed, a wrister from the point, and I had to slide across the crease, glove snapping up just in time.
My legs burned from the lateral push, but I kicked the puck into the corner.
My lungs screamed, gloves sticky with sweat, but the Surge got the puck out and cleared.
I could feel the team’s collective relief in my bones.
“Hang in there,” Mason nodded as he skated past me. “We’ve got this, Callahan.”
“And I’ve got you.”
The last five minutes were pure chaos. LA pressed hard, desperation in their eyes, forechecking like they had nothing to lose.
I stopped a rocket from a slapshot at the hash marks with my chest, kicked another away with my skate, and blocked a backhander with my pad so cleanly it sounded like a hammer on steel.
Every save was a heartbeat closer to history.
With just over a minute on the clock, the Kings made one final push.
Kopitar swooped in from the wing, flinging a puck toward the top corner.
Time slowed. I tensed, glove high, eyes tracking the spin.
The puck arced toward the post. I extended my arm, palm snapping up just in time.
The puck hit the glove, rattled once, and I clutched it to my chest. Heart pounding like crazy in my ears.
The horn sounded—penalty-free—but we weren’t safe yet.
The Surge was still on the ice, one last line change, one last rush.
I dropped to the ice to cover the rebound on a scramble, sliding across to stop a loose puck inches from the goal line.
Theo cleared it. Tucker picked it up, skating full tilt, passing to Mason at center ice.
I skated back to my crease, mask fogged, pads sticky, every muscle trembling from adrenaline and exhaustion.
Then it happened. The puck came up ice with a hard slap of the stick against wood.
Mason faked a pass, cut left, and dumped a cross-ice feed to Grayson.
He skated hard, shooting low. The Kings goalie dove, blocking, but the rebound landed perfectly in the slot.
Mason streaked in, slapshot straight into the net. Goal. 4-3 to Surge.
The final horn blasted. My gloves dropped to my knees, breath jagged and shallow. The bench erupted. Guys screaming, jumping over each other, sticks clashing. My mask came off, hair damp and sticking to my forehead, and I leaned against the post, shaking but elated.
I looked up to find Holly jumping in her seat, hands flinging in the air, face flushed and radiant. She was shouting, cheering, her energy infectious. My heart just about ripped open.
The locker room was chaos after we beat the Kings. Helmets clattered, water bottles sprayed, the whole place vibrating with shouts and laughter. It felt like the walls could barely hold it in.
Grayson jumped on a bench, stick raised like a trophy. “That’s what happens when you mess with the Surge, boys!”
“Get down before you break something,” Mason yelled, half-laughing as he dodged a spray of Gatorade.
Coach barked through the noise, his voice cutting clean through it. “Hell of a finish! Pulled a rabbit out of a hat in the last period. I’m proud of you.” He slapped me hard on the shoulder as he passed. “You made them earn every inch out there, Callahan. That’s how a number one goalie does it.”
I nodded, grinning despite the ache in my shoulders. “Happy to be here, Coach.”
Mason came up to me. “Yeah, but are you happy enough to stop an incoming shot before the last five minutes of a game?”
Everyone started laughing, and a few dirty towels were tossed in my direction. I batted them off, caught the last one and zapped Mason on the ass with it.
“Didn’t want you getting bored,” I said, and he flipped me off before scrambling to the other end of the room.
The music came on and Tucker started pounding a rhythm on the lockers. Guys shouted over each other, hugging, jostling, celebrating as if we were going home with the cup.
Coach lifted a hand again, shouting over the music. “Alright, save some of that for the next round. Hit the showers, get changed. Remember what’s waiting for us.”
The volume dipped, and the adrenaline slowly tapering off. Laughter turned to quieter talk and one by one, the guys started clearing out. The sound softened from chaos to calm.
Grayson and I were the last ones left.
He clapped my shoulder, gym bag over his arm. “You were solid tonight, man. Seriously.”
“Try not to sound so surprised,” I said.
He smiled, and whatever friction was still simmering between us dissolved. “Don’t stay too late.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said, though I didn’t move.
When the door finally swung shut behind him, silence settled like dust after a storm. I sat on the bench, still half in my gear, tape peeled from my pads. The hum of the overhead lights filled the space where shouting had been just minutes ago.
“You were incredible out there.”
I jumped to my feet, spinning round to see Holly smiling at me from the empty doorway. She sauntered over, her eyes never leaving mine. And even though every part of me ached with exhaustion, something else jerked awake inside me.
“Ma’am, you don’t have clearance to be back here,” I said, pulling off my jersey. I straightened just in time to see the way her eyes dragged over my bare torso. The way her lips parted, and pulled into a wry smile.
“Oh, you must not know,” she said, coming closer. Every step made my heart pick up a few extra notches. “I’m staff. Technically, I can be anywhere I want.”
She stopped in front of me, heat pouring from her gaze as she looked up to meet mine. The charge radiating in the tiny space between us was maddening.
I slid my hand into the back pocket of her jeans and squeezed her ass. “Interesting. Staff usually have key cards. Thought you’d have one back here.”
Her eyes darted to my mouth and she bit her bottom lip. “Try the front.”
I dipped my hand into her front pocket, twisting my wrist enough to graze her pussy with the lightest touch. She sucked in a breath, and her lids fluttered.
“Nope. Nothing here either.”
I glanced up to make sure the door was closed and sure enough, we were the only ones in here. Just the two of us, the heat of the game still thrumming in my veins, and her, impossibly close.
“Please, don’t call security,” she said, feigning innocence. “I– I must have lost it. But I have a permission slip from this really hot goalie I’m fucking.”
My cock twitched. Jesus, she was hot.
“Should I be jealous?” I backed her up against my locker, hands already working the button on her jeans.
“Depends. Can you keep a secret?”
I let out a slow, shaky breath in an effort to keep from slamming into her right then. “My lips are sealed.”
Holly took my hand and plunged it into her pants, her underwear. “Mine aren’t.”
The low groan that came out of me vibrated through my bones and tugged my cock so hard I felt like I was about to come in my pants. She was already wet.
“So fucking wet,” I murmured against her lips as I slid a finger between her folds, over her clit and back up again.
She tilted her hips, pushing more of herself against the pressure of my hand. “Feel how hard I am for you?”
I could only nod. All my focus was on the warmth between her legs. On how ready she was for me.
The first kiss was tentative, slow, a brush of lips that sent sparks shooting through me.
Her warm breath mingled with mine, and I felt the subtle press of her body as she leaned in, just enough to let me know she was there, completely present.
I deepened it, tilting my head to meet hers fully, savoring the sensation of her lips, the taste, the softness, the electricity.
She murmured something against my mouth, playful and low, and it sent another wave of shivers over me.
My hand slid along her side, just grazing the curve of her waist, and she let out a soft laugh that vibrated against my lips.
Every inch of her was magnetic, and I wanted more, but there was a slow-burning, simmering quality to it.
A patient kind of fire that made every touch linger.
Especially the one on me. She moved her hand steadily over my pants, stroking my cock until I was so hard it almost hurt. Pulsing, throbbing with how much I needed to be inside her.
“I’m gonna fuck you right here, up against my locker.”
She moaned into my mouth, her tongue relentlessly coaxing mine. “I’m gonna let you.”
We were caught in our own orbit, every brush of skin, every feather-light touch, every playful tease heightening the tension. I could feel the pull of her, the way her body responded to mine, and I was desperate to lean in, to press further, to let the world outside vanish entirely.
A muddle of voices. Then the door swung open.
Holly and I jumped apart, fumbling for decency as reality crashed back in.
Coach McAvoy and Mason appeared first, laughing and dissecting the game animatedly.
They didn’t even notice us right away. I straightened, forcing myself to breathe normally.
She snatched my glove from the bench and handed it to me, eyes darting to the dead giveaway tenting in my pants.
I held it strategically, mouthing a quick ‘thank you’.
And not a moment too soon, because–
“You still here?” Coach’s eyes still held that victory sparkle from earlier.
I was getting ready to stammer through a lame response when someone else trailed into the locker room behind them. I could feel Holly’s heart sink along with mine as Bob Trent came into view.
I didn’t need words. One look, the tilt of my jaw, the intensity behind my stare, and his stupid grin fell from his face.
My warning at breakfast was still fresh in his mind, and I was sure it was enough to keep him quiet.
At least, I hoped it would. Back then, it was only a rumor.
Now, with us standing here like this, anyone looking for it would find the evidence they wanted.
Coach McAvoy clapped me on the shoulder again, his voice booming over the tension. “Hell of a game, Hunter. You were unreal out there.”
“Thanks again, Coach.” I tried to be cool about the fact that I didn’t really move. Holly, beside me, didn’t either.
Mason smiled wide as he looked from Holly to me. “Wanna catch a ride to the bar with me? Some of the guys are celebrating.”
I glanced at Holly. She caught my eye, a faint smirk on her lips. I didn’t want to leave her though. Not tonight. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. Still finishing up here.”
A fleeting look crossed Bob’s face, but he thought better of saying it out loud. He cleared his throat. “I better get going too. Rain check on that drink, Coach.”
His departure got things moving quickly. Coach grabbed the keys he’d apparently come back for, and he and Mason left after one more round of shit-talk and pats on the back.
“That was close.” She released a drawn-out sigh, sinking onto the bench beside me. “I thought they’d all left for the day.”
Something pulled tight in my gut that had nothing to do with the desire I felt for her. I almost pushed it away but then–
“Holly…” I sat down beside her, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t want to sneak around like this. We shouldn’t have to.”
Finally, with a soft sigh, she leaned in, brushing her lips against mine one last time before settling against my chest. I held her close, hand resting lightly on her back, the soft press of her body a grounding force.
The room was quiet again, the echoes of the game fading, leaving only us, and the question she wouldn’t answer.