Chapter 10
Mason
The hit should’ve taken me out of the game, but we were halfway through the third period and about to steal an impossible win. No way was I sitting it out.
The boards took most of it, but I still tasted copper. My ribs screamed, the pain sharp and white-hot, blooming under my arm like a warning flare. I clenched my jaw as it snaked all the way up to my shoulder, eyes tracking the puck even as my back burned like fire licking up through bone.
It was bad. I could feel it. Especially after the last hit I took and didn’t tell anyone about.
“Keep your head down, Calder,” Grayson shouted as we crossed paths. “They’re playing for whistles, not pucks.”
No shit.
The Nashville Predators weren’t known for clean hockey. They baited, flopped, and drew penalties like it was performance art. And tonight, they had a big audience.
“You good?” Shawn asked, barely glancing at me on the bench.
I nodded once, then caught the glare Coach shot down the line. I knew that look. It said: You screw this up, I’ll staple your ass to the boards myself.
Keep your filthy paws off my daughter.
I wasn’t supposed to be here. Not in the lineup, and not with Cass. Definitely not with a torn intercostal I’d been keeping a secret.
But I was finally back on the second line.
“Predators are pulling their usual bullshit,” Grayson said as he skated up to the side. “They want a reaction, Coach.”
“Well, are you giving it to them?” He slapped the captain’s helmet so hard my own ears were ringing. “Get out there and take control of the game.”
Grayson skated off and Coach looked at me. “I’m not biting,” I said. But every part of me was one more shove away from exploding.
Too much good behavior was getting to me. I needed an outlet.
“Good,” Coach said. “You’re in.”
I pushed off the bench, ready to do some damage. So was Predator’s number twenty-two. The same guy who’d been yapping since the opening whistle.
“Look at you,” he said through his cage. “Still limping like a pussy. Must be all that strain from going viral. Tell me, does the daughter fuck as hard as her dad sucks at coaching?”
I kept my stick down. Jaw locked.
He skated in close. “When do we see the TikTok of your premature ejaculation, huh? Or maybe the one where she dumps you in high-def because you can’t cut the top line?”
The puck dropped. I didn’t say a word. The plan was to let the puck do the talking, and I kept my head in the play.
Until I didn’t have a choice.
A pass came wide, I chased it to the corner and twenty-two clipped my skate with the toe of his stick. He dropped like he’d been shot, flailing all the way down.
The whistle blew, ref’s arm up. “Tripping.”
The crowd lost their shit and unfortunately, so did we.
“Are you blind or just fucking stupid?” Grayson was right up in his face. “He sold out like Hamilton on Broadway!”
Coach was up on the bench now too, yelling at the fourth official. The veins in his forehead stuck out deep blue. But it didn’t matter.
“Two minutes in the box.” The ref looked exultant as he made the call. Unnecessary, but whatever.
I turned for the bench, rage curdling under my skin.
“That was a fucking dive,” Tucker shouted. Only our home crowd agreed with him.
There was no other response. Just glares. And the damn throbbing in my ribs.
Then came the shove. Our rookie D-man went full rage-buster on twenty-two, who fell to the ice again, writhing around in pain until another whistle blew. Another call.
We were down two men now.
Coach ripped off his headset. “Hunter! Get your pads. You’re in. PK unit, move!”
We were scrambling. Two minutes left in the third. Predators pressing. Hunter made a save he’d write poetry about, then another, sprawling across the crease.
Then came the rebound.
The Predators capitalized, the puck slipping past him glove-side before he could reset.
The goal horn sounded. We were tied.
I sat on the bench, breathing hard, my ribs protesting every time I moved. Cass’ face flashed in my head, and I was suddenly happy she couldn’t make the game. She was better off studying than witnessing this fuck up.
Coach turned to look at me, face red, thirty seconds left. “You want this, Calder?”
“Yes, Coach.”
“Then go get it.”
My heart pounded so loud I could barely hear the whistle. We lined up at center ice, and Grayson won the faceoff clean. He chipped it to Tucker, who passed it back to him.
And our captain was off, zigzagging through two defenders before flipping it across to me. I caught it, my vision narrowing through the pain to find a single point behind the goalie’s shoulder.
That was about all the thought I put into it.
The puck sang off my blade, bar-down, past the goalie’s blocker and into the net. Horn.
The stadium erupted in glorious pandemonium.
Grayson tackled me at the waist, Tucker shouted something I didn’t catch over the roar of the crowd, and I gave a howling laugh as the rest of the team descended on me.
*
The locker room had emptied out hours ago. The press was long gone, and the ice was freshly cut, glowing under the lights like a frozen altar. I should’ve been home, but I wasn’t ready to come down from it yet.
I’d scored the game-winner, but instead of feeling like a king, I felt like a balloon still floating just after the helium’s gone. Sagging from the inside out.
My shoulder burned like hell. Every breath stabbed between my ribs. But I still laced up.
A few minutes into drills, I heard the scrape of skates behind me.
“Figured I’d find you here,” Cass said.
She looked worn out from studying, but still breathtaking. Her dark leggings pulled my attention to her calves, the delicious curve of her thighs as they snuck up under her dress. It wasn’t every day I saw her in one of those. My pulse spiked.
“Miss me too much?” I tugged the edge of her beanie over her eyes.
She laughed and nudged it back up, settling easily into the lazy hold I had around her waist. Like we’d done this dance a thousand times. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, eyes dancing.
“Missed my Zamboni,” she said. “It was my night off, but I wanted to make sure she was put to bed alright.”
“You don’t fool me. I know a stalker when I see one.”
She pushed up on the toes of her skates, and gave me a quick kiss. Her lips were surprisingly warm.
Is that what we’re doing? Still playing this game in spite of all the roadblocks?
“You played like a beast tonight.” Her voice was a breathy caress against my mouth.
“What happened to cramming?” I asked, poking her in the side until she wriggled away. But then I quickly pulled her back into my arms again.
“I caught bits and pieces of the game on breaks,” she said with a fake air of innocence. Then she turned serious, and added, “Saw the hit you took in third.”
Of course she did.
“You weren’t supposed to be watching.”
“I’m not supposed to be doing a lot of things… But here we are.”
She slipped her hand into mine, and we pushed off into slow loops around the rink. Our own private orbit.
“Still wired?”
“Adrenaline’s cheap,” I replied with a smirk. “Wears off fast.”
“What’s this then?” Cass gave my hand a slight tug, and we slowed to a stop. “You should be resting. Not out here pretending you’re indestructible.”
I sighed, rolled the stiffness in my shoulders. “I’m fine.”
“How about now?” She landed a perfectly aimed jab to my side, and I doubled over. I thought I was going to pass out with the way stars popped off in front of me.
“Mason.” Her voice took on a tone I couldn’t ignore. “You’re pushing too hard, and you know it. Keep this up, and you’ll count yourself out of the game before it’s meant to be over.”
I eased my lungs through a steady, controlled breath. “You sound like you actually care about my game.”
She skated back into my space, lifting her head to press it gently to the side of my face.
“I do,” she whispered. “Even if you’re a pain in the ass.”
My chest cracked open.
I didn’t know how to carry that, so I leaned forward and just kissed the shit out of her.
Her hand slid down my jaw, fingers pressing into the curve of my neck. Mine found her waist, then her back, and I pulled her close. She melted into me, one arm around my shoulder—and I flinched.
She pulled back immediately, eyes sharp. “That’s it. I’m taking you to medical.”
I smiled through the brief flare of pain, and said, “Are you going to nurse me back to health?”
“Someone has to.”
Before I could argue, she was dragging me by the sleeve toward the tunnel. I didn’t fight it, and just listened while she muttered things about being careless and reckless under her breath.
The lights in the medical bay buzzed low, and Cass found the ice packs without having to look. She set me down on the exam table and positioned herself between my legs as she held one to my shoulder.
“Pressure okay?”
“Hold on.” I scooted to the edge of the table until I was brushing up against her. “There. Now the pressure’s perfect.”
She gave a half-smile but said nothing, her thumb moving in slow, rhythmic strokes along the edge of the ice pack. Soothing. Hypnotic.
“You ever feel like no matter how much you give, it’s never enough?”
The look on her face told me she wasn’t expecting me to go there, but she took a breath and thought for a bit before answering.
Then, taking her eyes off my shoulder to look at me, she said, “All the time.”
The high I was riding from the game and extra drills had given out. Now it was less a sprinting heartbeat I was dealing with, and more of a slow burn.
“Just so you know,” she added, “you don’t have to prove anything to me. Not on the ice, or here.”
Her lashes cast tiny shadows over her cheeks, softening her features even more. She fascinated me. The way she took all of this in her stride. How she didn’t shy away from my mess.
“I know. And thank you.”
Her smile fractured something in me. “Good.”
She stood, gently pulled the pack from my shoulder, and set it on the table next to me. “No more extra drills. Go home, and get some sleep.”
I watched her start to leave, my heart hankering after her.
“Hey,” I called out. “When are you, uh, platonically free to play doctor again?”
“Platonically?” She paused in the doorway, her smile wider now.
“Wholesome. PG-13 all the way.”
She backed out of the room, the shadows from the hallway almost swallowing her whole. “I’ll let you know,” she said, and then she was out of sight.