12. Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
Emily
I was a mess of nerves.
The energy of the arena hummed in my bones.
It was game day.
Every seat was filled with eager fans, all wearing the green and white of the Evergreens or the icy blue and white of the Frostburg Yetis.
I sat in the stands, my heart pounding as I watched Mac on the ice.
Beside me, Sebastian was equally focused, his hand tightly gripping mine. The night before had been exhausting. We stayed later at the charity event than we had planned, leaving us all a little worse for wear, but nothing was going to put a damper on us cheering for Mac.
We let him sleep in as late as his body would let him, and I hoped it had been enough.
“Come on, Mac,” I whispered under my breath, my eyes glued to the ice. I could see the fire in his eyes. He would give everything he had, and I willed him to push through any tiredness leftover from last night.
With only two minutes left in the final period, the scoreboard read 2-2. The tension was palpable. The game was as intense as it gets. I was hopeful. We had been in such a similar scenario at the last game and our guys had pulled through. They could do it again.
The Yetis had come back with a vengeance. Their defense was strong and their offense was relentless. Mac was in the thick of it all, battling for every inch of ice.
I posted a picture of Mac in action, capturing the intensity on his face. I also had a shot of Lightning making an incredible save and Strelow diving for the puck.
The puck dropped, and Mac won the faceoff, sending it back to Strelow. He quickly passed it to Roman, who carried it into the offensive zone. The Yetis’ defense closed in fast, but Roman managed to pass it to Sloan, who took a quick shot. The puck flew toward the goal, but the Yetis’ goalie made a spectacular save, deflecting it into the corner.
I clenched my fists, feeding off the tension in the air. Every play, every pass, every shot was crucial. I glanced at Sebastian, who gave me a reassuring squeeze.
“He’s got this,” he said, though his voice was choked with anxiety.
To give my nerves a break, I posted a clip of Mac’s faceoff win on the team’s social media account, adding a caption that read, “All or nothing! Go Evergreens!” The fans loved the high-stakes moments, and I was determined to give them the best content.
Mac chased the puck into the corner, fighting off a Yeti defenseman to gain control. He passed it back to Joe, who sent it around the boards to Sloan. Sloan tried to center it, but the Yetis intercepted, starting a fast break down the ice.
The Yetis’ center flew down the rink, passing to their right winger, who took a shot. Lightning made an incredible save, but the puck rebounded to a Yeti forward, who immediately shot again. Lightning dove, blocking it with his pad, sending the puck skidding away.
I held my breath as Mac skated hard, retrieving the puck. He passed to Joe, who darted up the left side, dodging defenders. Joe passed back to Mac, who had the smallest opening. He took the shot, but the Yetis’ goalie was ready.
The whistle blew, and the faceoff moved to the Yetis’ zone. I could see the frustration on Mac’s face, but he shook it off, refocusing. There was no time to fret.
One minute left on the clock.
I posted another video clip, this time of the Evergreens’ aggressive offense, hoping to rally the fans online. As it loaded, a notification popped up. A news article headline: Evergreens’ Star Caught in Polyamorous Scandal . My heart sank as I skimmed the piece, but I quietly closed out of it before Sebastian could see. This was neither the time nor the place for more stress.
The puck dropped, and the Yetis won the faceoff, dashing it out of their zone. The Evergreens scrambled to get back on defense. The Yetis’ right winger made a move, passing to their center, who took a quick shot. Lightning blocked it, but the puck rebounded again. This time, the Yetis’ left winger was in perfect position and fired the puck into the net.
The crowd erupted, a mix of cheers and groans. My stomach dropped as the scoreboard changed to 3-2.
There were only thirty seconds left.
I could see Mac’s anger and frustration as he skated to the bench, his teammates patting him on the back, trying to keep spirits up.
Then, as if things couldn’t get worse, one of the Yetis’ players shoved Strelow, and before I could even figure out what started it, fists were flying. Mac was in the middle of it, trying to pull his teammate away, but it was chaos. The referees blew their whistles frantically, trying to break it up.
Sebastian and I watched in helpless horror as the fight escalated. Mac pulled Strelow away, but not before both teams were sent to their benches, and penalties were handed out. The Evergreens would be down a man for the rest of the game.
“Damn it,” Sebastian muttered, his grip on my hand tightening. “This isn’t good.”
The last thirty seconds were a blur of desperation and grasping for the puck. The Evergreens gave everything they had, pulling Lightning from the net for an extra attacker. Mac won the faceoff, sending the puck to Strelow, who fired a quick shot. The Yetis’ goalie made the save.
Mac dove into the fray, battling for control. He got the puck to Sloan, who took a shot, but it was blocked by a Yeti defenseman.
The puck skidded out to the neutral zone, and the last seconds ticked away.
The buzzer sounded, and the game was over.
The Yetis had won.
I watched as Mac skated to the bench, his face a mask of anger and disappointment. The Yetis celebrated on the ice, their fans cheering wildly. The Evergreens skated slowly, heads down.
Sebastian and I made our way down to the locker room, wanting to be there for Mac. I felt a mix of emotions—pride in how hard he had fought, but also sadness for the loss.
We found Mac sitting on the bench, his head in his hands.
“Mac,” I whispered, sitting down beside him. I placed a hand on his back, rubbing some of the tension out of his muscles.
He looked up, his eyes filled with frustration and anger. “I can’t believe we lost,” he said, his voice tight. “We were so close.”
“You played your heart out,” Sebastian said, sitting on Mac’s other side and wrapping his arm around him.
Mac shook his head, his jaw clenched. “It’s not enough. I wanted to win. For the team. For you guys.”
I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close. “We know, Mac. And we’re so proud of you. You were incredible out there.”
Mac let out a deep sigh, leaning into our embrace. “It just hurts so much,” he admitted. “We worked so hard for this.”
“I know,” I said, my voice gentle. “But you have us, and we’ll get through this together.”
Sebastian nodded, his hand resting on Mac’s shoulder. “We’re a team, remember? On and off the ice.”
Mac took a deep breath, the anger slowly giving way to a weary acceptance. “Yeah. We are.” He looked at us, his eyes softening. “Thanks for being here. It means everything.”
I kissed his cheek, my heart swelling with love for him. “Always, Mac.”
The next morning, I woke up to the smell of bacon as my phone dinged. I blinked my eyes clear, not sure if I was reading the screen correctly.
Ava: Happy birthday, Emily!! We’ve all been talking about going to the lake house for a while, and I FINALLY got Bash’s parents on board. Want to join us?
I glanced at Mac, who was still asleep next to me. A scowl marred his beautiful face, and he looked like he had been wound up tight all night. Bash had held him against him until he fell asleep, but he was down worse than I’d ever seen him.
We had planned on staying home for the next week to celebrate the Evergreens’ win. The thought of losing hadn’t crossed our minds, so we didn’t have a back-up plan. I was really looking forward to a week off from hockey and wedding planning, but he would need more than this. A trip out of town for a few days would do the trick. And no reception meant less chance of them seeing the news.
I wish I hadn’t read it, but curiosity got the best of me on the drive home and I read the entire article that had popped up during the game.
That article was bad enough, saying our relationship was unnatural and wouldn’t last.
And then curiosity got the best of me when Bash and Mac fell asleep. I looked up the news coverage from when we were entering the building. The news outlet had hired an expert who tore apart every bit of body language he could pull from a literal five second video of me freezing.
He had the audacity to suggest Bash and Mac were holding me against my will. There were people out there in horrible situations, truly in the danger they were speculating about me. Turning that energy toward me and my perfectly healthy, consensual relationship was horrendous.
Reading those had been a big mistake. I couldn’t undo it, but I could protect my guys from it for at least a little while.
“I know what I want for my birthday,” I blurted the second Bash walked into the room with a tray of food.