Chapter Thirteen
JAMES
“ T here’s a girl in the WAG section who’s wearing your jersey,” Hammond says as he sits on the bench next to me, out of breath from coming off his shift.
“Yup,” I say, watching the play in front of me.
“You bring her?” he asks.
“Maybe,” I say. My focus isn’t really on the conversation. I’m trying to focus on the game and how Marshall is being pelted with shot after shot while the line on the ice fights for the puck to gain the advantage.
I didn’t know if Victoria was going to show up tonight. I’d had a ticket reserved for her for every home game since we got back, just in case. I’d also worked it out with the in-seat attendants to bring her the jersey if she showed up, too. We’ve only had a couple of home games since then, and every night, I would look to the section to see if she was there, only to be disappointed.
But not tonight. Tonight, she’s here.
“She’s making friends with Amanda, so I’m going to get the full story tonight, anyway,” he says.
“Why are you so invested in my love life?” I say before jumping up and yelling, “Come on! That was offside!”
I slam my stick against the boards as I sit down.
“Break another stick, Northman, and it’s coming out of your pay,” Coach grumbles behind me.
“Yeah, yeah.”
I’m thankfully given a break from Hammond’s line of questioning when the line comes off from their shift and I jump onto the ice. I glance up at the stands for just a moment–just enough time to see Victoria smile at me, letting me know she’s watching.
My heart pounds like it’s trying to break free from my chest as I take my spot on the ice, hanging back from the face-off dot.
I can feel her eyes on me.
Usually, I can tune out the crowd—just enough to feed off their energy without getting distracted by it. But tonight? Tonight, there’s only one person I care about in those stands. And I want to play like I’ve never played before—for her.
The puck drops, and my focus shifts. Adrenaline rushes through my body as I fight my way to the corner, determined to get into the play. I use my body to hold the player from the other team as I use my stick to jab at the puck, finally breaking it free. Rushing after it, I glide across the ice, weaving around players as I pass it back and forth between the blade of my stick.
The thrill of the crowd fills the rink as I close in on the opposing goalie. My vision tunnels and all I can see is him and the net. Pulling my stick back, I swing with full force, letting a slap shot rip across the ice. The puck lifts and finds its home in the corner of the net, sailing above the goalie’s shoulder, too fast to be caught by his glove.
The red light behind the net comes to life, and my teammates rush me to celebrate my goal. Turning to the stands, I see Victoria jumping up and down, cheering and yelling with everyone else.
But all I see is her.
Pointing to her with my stick, I let her know that one’s for her.
I promise myself it’s the first of many.
“You did it! You scored! It was amazing!” Victoria yells as she runs to me.
I texted her, asking her to meet me in the walkway outside the dressing rooms. I didn’t want to wait any longer than I had to, to see her, even if it meant getting extra ribbing from the guys. I did the shortest post-game interview I could get away with, stayed for the recap with the coach, and then pushed my way to the front of the line for the showers.
I was shameless about my need to be the first out of the dressing room, and I’m not afraid to admit it.
I drop my bag and pick her up, swinging her in a circle. Her laugh echoes off the walls, which makes me join her.
“That was incredible, James. The whole game was amazing, but seeing you score was magic.”
“And I did it all for you, Peeps.” I put her down, cupping her cheek in my hand. “Thank you for coming tonight.”
“Thanks for having a ticket for me.”
“They’ll always be a standing ticket for you, Victoria. Always.”
“And any night I can, I’ll take it.”
I lean down and bring my lips to hers. This is where I want to be. Here, with her. I know I can’t always have her in Vancouver, but I know now that I’ll do whatever I need to to make it work.