Chapter 24
Cole
The locker room is quieter than usual, heavy with the weight of what tonight means. This is it. The game that determines whether we make the playoffs or watch from home like every other year. We've worked like devils all season, pushing through injuries, losses, and media distractions.
We can't lose now.
Harper slips into my mind despite my efforts to keep her out. Will she come to the game? She's been buried in planning our season awards gala. I've texted her, called her, even gone by her office once, but I was told she wasn't in.
It's painful as hell to realize she's completely given up on us as quickly as she has. It’s only been a week since the news of our relationship hit the tabloids. And to think she's shoved me out of her life while every day, every night, she's all I can think about is torture.
But I can't think about Harper now. I have a game to win.
I'd been hoping my mother would show up for this game, but she texted me this morning that something had come up with one of my step-siblings and she couldn't make it. Oh well. I'm used to disappointment.
“You look like someone stole your puppy,” Nova says, dropping onto the bench beside me. For once, his usual cocky grin is replaced by genuine concern. “What's eating you, Cap?”
I don't answer, just continue taping my stick with mechanical precision.
“You let management bully you into losing someone you loved,” he says quietly.
I look up, surprised by his serious tone.
“I saw the way you were when Harper was around,” he continues. “You actually smiled. Laughed. You were human instead of this hockey robot we're used to.”
Before I can respond, Coach Mercer’s voice booms through the locker room. “Time to go, boys. Let's make some history.”
We file down the tunnel and onto the ice for warm-ups. The crowd is deafening, eighteen thousand fans on their feet, desperate for a playoff berth. I go through my usual routine. Practice shots, passing drills, but my eyes drift to the family section.
No Harper. Why did I even check?
Then I spot a familiar face in the crowd. Brett. He catches my eye and flashes me a thumbs-up. What the hell is he doing here? The Commanders didn't make the playoffs, so he should be home for the summer by now.
The puck drops, and the Toronto Glaciers come out flying. They score first, a deflection off Ethan's stick that Logan couldn't stop. The crowd goes quiet.
We're down 1-0 after the first period.
In the second period, the Glaciers extend their lead. A power play goal that slips through Logan's five-hole. The arena feels like a morgue.
2-0 Glaciers.
“We're not done,” I tell the guys between periods. “Twenty minutes. That's all we need.”
The third period is when we come alive. Ryan scores on a beautiful wrist shot to cut the lead in half. The crowd erupts, sensing a comeback.
With five minutes left, we tie it. Alex deflects a shot from the point, and the arena shakes with noise.
Then, with two minutes remaining, I get my chance. A rebound comes right to me in the slot, and I bury it top shelf.
“We're in the fucking playoffs!” I shout as my teammates crash into me. Bodies pile on top of me, voices screaming in celebration. We did it. After years of disappointment, we're finally going to the playoffs.
The family section empties onto the ice. Kids, wives, girlfriends, all celebrating with us. I scan the crowd, still hoping Harper might appear.
“She's not here, man,” Brett says, appearing beside me and slapping my back. “But congratulations. Hell of a comeback.”
Before I can ask what he's doing here, Liam crashes into both of us, champagne already splashing from someone's bottle.
“Time to celebrate!” he shouts. “Brett, you're coming with us. We need to rub it in that the Commanders missed the playoffs again.”
“You guys go celebrate,” Brett says, but he's looking at me. “I have to fly back tonight. But Cole, I need a word with you first.”
I lead him down the tunnel, past the celebrating locker room, to a quiet area near the medical office.
“You look like hell,” he says.
“Yeah, I feel like hell.”
Brett studies my face for a moment. “You really love her.”
“Yes.” The word comes out rough. “She's the first woman I've ever loved, and she'll be the last.”
“Then fight for her.”
“She won't see me. Won't return my calls. I've tried everything.”
“Then make her see you,” Brett interrupts. “You're the captain of the Renegades, a team that just made the playoffs. Be creative.”
He claps my shoulder once more and heads toward the exit, leaving me standing alone in the tunnel.
Be creative.
The words echo in my head as I return to the locker room, where my teammates are still celebrating. Champagne flows, music blares, and everyone is talking about our first playoff appearance in years.
But all I can think about is Brett's advice.
I'm Cole Maddox, captain of the New York Renegades. I've just led my team to the playoffs for the first time in my career. If I can orchestrate a third-period comeback against the Glaciers, surely I can figure out how to win back the woman I love.
Harper Hayes thinks I chose hockey over her. It's time to show her that's not true.
It's time to choose her over everything else.