Chapter 22
Connor
Connor panicked when Patrick Mills beckoned him to center ice during warm-ups.
No way would he approach his rival before a game with such high stakes.
He nudged Lover’s arm and pointed to Patrick.
Patrick probably wouldn’t outright attack a kid.
And if he did, Daisy would give him hell.
He tried to focus on his routine while Patrick and Lover chatted.
After an eternity, Lover returned to his side, Hazy joining them by the benches with an iPad.
The entire team knew the stakes. With how her first meeting had gone with the team, Connor had been unsure how people would react when told about the bet, but everyone seemed on board.
They planned to get Connor a hatty by whatever means necessary.
The secondary plan was to obliterate the competition, but that was the plan every night.
He was surprised they were willing to consider getting the puck to him at all considering his recent track record.
Lover handed pucks and markers to Hazy and Connor.
“Patrick invited us to participate in his ritual with Daisy. Apparently, we write a little note on a puck and toss it to her at the end of warmups. He apologized for his misrepresentation of their relationship. She must have ripped him a new asshole; he was so nice.”
“Ha, I’ll believe it when I see it,” Connor said.
Hazy shrugged and wrote on his puck. “This is a start, I guess.”
Connor thought about what to write and then went with his first idea. At the very least it would turn her cheeks that lovely shade of pink he was always chasing. He searched for her in the crowd of kids and posters.
“Next time, she’d better be watching on our side. I don’t like her being all the way over there.”
Lover and Hazy agreed. Seeing her in the wrong colors felt like being dumped in a bucket of ice water.
He saw the vision a younger version of Daisy had been going for.
The combination of glitter and ponytail gave him all sorts of ideas more suited for a bedroom than a hockey game.
Did she know the extent of the dirty thoughts he had about her on a regular basis?
He hoped not. But God help him if he didn’t want to wrap her hair around his fist and bite her neck.
He shook the pornographic daydreams from his head. He could dwell on those mental images later. Maybe he could act on them later. But he needed to focus on hockey. One shift at a time. One goal at a time.
His first goal in eighteen games came in the first three minutes of play.
The crowd roared, and instinctively he found Daisy in the stands.
Even in that damn green sweater, she was on her feet screaming for him.
In a mockery of Patrick’s celly from two nights before, he pointed right at her as Hazy and Lover dog piled onto him.
The goal song playing overhead had never sounded so sweet.
Hazy looked straight to where Daisy sat and held up a single finger.
One down, two to go. Hazy had assisted, so Lover needed to assist on the next.
Despite his solid start, the Connor line’s production dipped after the first goal.
They were well into the third period before the second one came.
He’d taken a bad penalty, but as he stepped free from the box, the puck landed on his stick, giving him a breakaway.
He hadn’t scored on a breakaway in ages, and his first shot bounced back at him from the goalie’s blocker.
He used his momentum to take a second shot on the rebound that squeezed into the net over the goalie’s gloved hand.
Two goals done. But no assist from Lover.
The game became a blowout against San Jose.
The Freeze were up by three with two minutes left.
No matter how many shots Connor got on goal, the puck stayed out.
He started to worry. San Jose pulled their goalie.
With an open net, the tricky part wouldn’t be the hat trick if they could get control of the puck.
It was the assist. Lover had to touch the puck before Connor took a shot.
Typically, in a game this bad, the losing team would be full of animosity.
Lord knew the Freeze had been earlier in the week.
But with a minute left to go, San Jose with six attackers out and everything on the line, Connor faced off with an abnormally quiet Patrick.
Patrick was a hair too slow, and Connor swept the puck back to Hazy.
He circled their own net. Connor had several career moments he would remember for the rest of his life.
But the second Hazy passed the puck to Lover for a breakaway, and Patrick Mills lost an edge, falling and leaving Connor open to accept a pass for a shot into a wide-open net?
That moment would be the most confusing by far.
Patrick hadn’t fought him all night. Hadn’t chirped once.
He’d helped Connor do something cute for Daisy.
There was a zero percent chance he’d ever blow a game.
Professional athletes were too competitive for that.
But he was an excellent skater. He didn’t lose an edge out of nowhere.
One extra goal in a blowout game wasn’t a difference maker. Patrick had set Connor up.
What Connor didn’t understand was why.
He didn’t let himself dwell on it for too long.
He’d gotten a hat trick and broken his curse.
Hats got tossed onto the ice. Hazy and Lover jumped into his arms for the third time.
Together they sought out Daisy in the crowd, finding her on her feet for them.
Connor looked at Patrick, who gazed fondly at his best friend.
Connor didn’t party after games, but that night was different. For the first time in months he felt like himself. Going home and going to bed was his routine after a game, but the adrenaline and relief filling him called for celebration. He had tomorrow off.
There was a bar near the arena hidden enough that hockey fans were rarely present. He drove Lover and Hazy, the boys insisting on playing “Bye Bye Bye” on the way.
As much as he hated to admit it, the song had become their anthem. Daisy had ingrained herself in their routine. They behaved as a unit most days, always arriving at the rink around the same time, and making a toast with their treats was a shared ritual before they hit the ice.
On nights they were stuck in hotel rooms, they played the video game Daisy had introduced them to. They had put in the work to get points on the board, but that night he realized Daisy was part of the team, and this was as much her win as theirs.
He turned down the music and said, “Text Daisy to see if she’ll join us.”
Hazy shot off a message that made both Connor and Lover’s phones vibrate. A few seconds later, a second buzz followed. Hazy grimaced.
“She’s out with Roxie and Patrick.”
Connor sighed. He would ride his high for as long as possible, but he wanted answers, so he said, “They can come too.”
Hazy messaged their group chat, but no reply came.
They pulled up at the bar and found parking.
Connor showed Hazy and Lover the hidden door, and they entered the moody establishment.
This bar was a far cry from the country tavern Daisy had taken them to.
It was dark and quiet, and most of the booths sat empty.
Connor claimed one and approached the bar, ordering a round for the table.
They had barely sat down with their first drinks when their phones buzzed again, this time with no text, but a location.
“What do you think?” Connor asked.