Chapter 17 #2
“Yeah, I guess. I mean, I’ve always known that I wouldn’t go on to play hockey in any kind of professional sense once I graduated.
I’ve been a third- or fourth-line d-man since the dawn of time.
I’m good, but I’m not great, you know? I won’t get a chance in the AHL, and I don’t want to juggle having a job while playing in the ECHL or something, and I didn’t want to end up playing in Europe.
I don’t love the game like you do, and I’ve always been okay with that, but knowing that this is it, that there’s only one game left…
” His voice turns thick, emotion clogging his throat as his eyes glisten under the harsh light of the TV.
“I’m a month away from graduating, then I’ll be working for my dad’s company, and I’ve just been struck with the realization that I don’t really know who I am… ”
His voice cracks on those last few words, and I immediately push myself up on my elbow and place my hand on his face to turn his head toward me. His dark eyes are full of tears, and my heart aches for him.
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s hard when you know a big change is coming, but it’s okay to feel sad about it, Ty.
I think people have a complicated time when it comes to change, whether it’s planned or unexpected.
” I smooth my hand down his chest to rest over his heart.
“Sometimes change is the only way we can grow. It’s like the closing of that chapter in your life so you can begin a new one.
Embrace the change because you don’t know the amazing things it can bring. ”
He smiles, running his fingers through my hair and pushing it away from my face. “You’re so smart.”
I laugh under my breath. “I’m not, but thanks.”
“No, you are. For someone who is about to face the biggest change of his life, your outlook on it is admirable.”
“It doesn’t mean I’m not terrified about the draft and what might come from it, but I’m also excited because this is what I’ve wanted since I was a kid. But it doesn’t mean I’m not still sad that my time at college is coming to an end, but I know it’s a memory that I can look back on fondly.”
He hums, deep and thoughtful.
“Maybe you can talk to your dad and see if there’s something you can do as a compromise, because I’m sure he doesn’t want you to be unhappy with your life.
If you don’t want to quit until you’ve figured out what you want to do, maybe you can ask him if you can work remotely.
Then you can work from anywhere,” I suggest.
Like with me, in whatever city I’m drafted to.
I don’t say the words aloud though.
Tyler makes an incredulous noise, then pushes me down and rolls on top of me, blanketing me with his hard body. He dips his head and kisses up my neck, sparking a tidal wave of electricity to run through my body.
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Colbs,” he murmurs against my pulse. “Just wanna lose myself in you, until it’s just you and me and nothing else.”
I smooth my hands up the expanse of his back and bury my fingers in his hair.
“You’ll always have me,” I say, my words raw and vulnerable because they go beyond this moment.
The tension in the locker room is thick as we suit up for the finals on Saturday night. Coach Vaughn has given us his motivational speech, and I’ve gone through my pregame ritual.
My ribs are sore but not distracting, and all other thoughts have disappeared from my brain as I take my position on the blue line for the national anthem, keeping my gaze fixed on the logo at center ice.
We’ve got this. Statistically, we’re the stronger team.
Quinnipiac have had a run of luck, but that luck is about to end because we’re not leaving Tampa without the win.
We take an early lead in the first period when Liam takes a slapshot from the top of the face-off circle. Our defense are rock solid, preventing Quinnipiac from having a clear shot on our net.
There’s a nervous energy simmering in the locker room when we head in for the first intermission.
Gio, the team trainer, offers me an ice pack, which I quickly wave off, too focused on Tyler getting his ankle taped. I didn’t see him tweak it, but the grimace on his face as Gio applies the K-tape says he must have twisted it.
When we take the ice for the second period, my determination to extend our lead results in me making a stupid mistake. I end up tripping one of Quinnipiac’s forwards while trying to steal the puck, then to add salt to the wound, they score on Winslow.
Frustrated, I hang my head from my spot in the penalty box and mutter a curse under my breath.
Fuck’s sake, McKay, get your fucking act together.
I avoid Coach’s glare as I return to the bench. Liam gives my knee a slap, letting me know without words that he isn’t mad. My knee bounces frantically until I take my next shift, eager to get back out there and make up for my foolish mistake.
I keep my eyes glued on the puck as I hop over the boards for my next shift, our defenseman controlling the pace in the defensive zone.
Fleming passes to me, and I pass over to Nelson to take us into the offensive zone before he sends the puck back to land on my tape.
I deke around their waiting defenseman and shoot the puck between my skates.
It lands on Liam’s blade with an audible thwack, and then the second Quinnipiac’s focus is redirected to Liam, he passes it to me, and I zero in on the top left corner.
It sails in, skimming over the goalie’s blocker, lighting the lamp and putting us back in the lead by 1.
“That was some highlight-reel shit! Holy fuck!” Liam beams as I’m crowded into the boards.
Laughing, I skate back to the bench and watch the replay on the jumbotron. Tyler places his hand on my knee and gives me a shake, his wide grin visible through his bubble.
“That was fucking amazing, Colbs,” he praises, and his words have me floating on the moon.
Quinnipiac are unable to close the gap, and as we go into third period, the anticipation of being so close to the win has us dialing up our efforts.
Each pass is coordinated and silky smooth.
Each hit is calculated and legal, and every shot we take on the net fractures Quinnipiac’s confidence bit by bit.
With two minutes left, they pull their goalie, and rumbles of excitement echo down the bench.
Nelson takes a shot from the boards, but the puck bounces off the post with an audible ting, and the crowd lets out a collective groan.
Quinnipiac don’t give up fighting. They’re all over our every move, but when Liam passes the puck to me, I kick it with the back of my skate blade, allowing me the chance to dodge around their d-man.
I have a clear shot on the empty net, and the thunderous roar of the crowd gets louder.
My hands are trembling in my gloves, tears pricking behind my eyes as I shoot.
The puck glides over the crease paint and into the back of the net.
My heart is pounding as loud as the crowd stomping their feet in the stands, and as I turn on my skates, arms already in the air to celebrate, my gaze drifts to the clock on the jumbotron.
Five seconds.
Five fucking seconds left in the third period.
My vision turns blurry the second Liam lifts me up off the ice. I can’t hear a word he or anyone else is saying because everything is so loud.
My heartbeat. The crowd.
We did it.
We fucking did it.
The bench is already going nuts. Coach Vaughn is jumping on the bench, his tie halfway around his head as he celebrates with our assistant coach.
I’m shaking as I line up for the face-off, hands sweating buckets in my gloves. I watch the official’s hand as he drops the puck, quickly passing it back to Nelson because I’m still a hockey player, after all, and winning the face-off still counts toward my stats.
But there’s no play, Quinnipiac having already accepted defeat.
Five.
Four.
I glance over to Tyler on the bench, where he’s jumping up and down with Anton, wearing the widest grin I’ve ever seen on his face.
Three.
Two.
The buzzer is barely audible over the sound of the blood pounding in my ears and my teammates’ raucous cheers. I choke out a sob, realization hitting me like a ton of bricks.
We won the Frozen Four.
It takes me a second to drop my stick and gloves before unclipping my helmet, tossing them to join the others scattered across the ice. I skate over to the others piled in the corner, and suddenly, I’m sucked into the middle, surrounded by twenty of my teammates.
Once everyone separates and splits off for individual celebrations, I search for the face of the person who is becoming everything to me.
I spot him hugging Liam, slapping his back as he says something that has Liam squeezing his eyes closed.
As soon as they pull away, Tyler’s eyes scan the ice until they land on me, and I skate over to him.
We collide together, arms wrapping around each other in a tight embrace.
He lifts me off my skates, his own cries muffled into the crook of my neck.
“We did it, Colbs, we did it,” he says, and I squeeze him as tight as I can around all our pads.
My college hat trick plan is almost complete. I’ve lost my virginity, and now we’ve won the Frozen Four, which means there’s only one more to go.
But with the draft looming on the horizon, there’s something I didn’t factor in.
I don’t want to let Tyler go.
Maybe it’s time to scrap my hat trick plan and make a new one so I can add a new goal to the list.
Convince Tyler to give us a chance before I get drafted.