He chuckled through his headgear as I rounded the back of the net, heading back for the bench. Better luck next time.
Whistle after whistle sounded as the rest of the team gave the course one more go, with only a few hitting the back of the net as Coach alternated goalies. And when the drill ended, leaving me without a goal, I was more determined to kick it into high gear for the half-hour scrimmage that ended our practice.
The division of players was fair, with players from all four lines mixed among teams, and while everyone knew to take it easy on the hits, we all still wanted to give it our all.
It took a few shifts, but I settled into my groove when I found myself rushing down the ice next to Brookes, who I was used to playing with on game nights. The puck bounced back and forth between our sticks as we deked out the defensemen, and this time, when I saw the open five-hole and took a shot, it sailed cleanly across the goal line.
Followed by another bullet to the top corner two shifts later, which secured our team the win at 5-4 as practice came to a close.
Okay, bring it in men, Coach said from center ice, his voice echoing throughout the arena. Most of us sucking wind after hours of skating, we glided slowly towards him and waited for his parting words. After Wednesday’s win in Dallas, I was proud to see you guys putting the same level of effort into today’s practice. If we come out here tomorrow night with this kind of morale, we’ll have the fans on our side when we show Montreal that them getting the best of us the last time we met was a fluke. There were whistles and hoots in agreement. Now get out of here, Coach said, waving towards the tunnel. And I better see you all here tomorrow, ready and hungry for a win.
Knights on three ! Simmons, our captain, yelled.
One, two, three, Knights !
My adrenaline was still flowing as I followed my teammates off the ice, bumping gloves with the coaching staff as I passed them.
Hey, one of the assistant coaches said, catching my attention as I skated by. Great work out there in the scrimmage today.
Thanks.
Though I knew one compliment or one good practice-hell, even a streak of good games-couldn’t keep my spot on the team safe. My agent had told me there’d been rumblings of trading me over the summer, and while nothing had manifested yet, that didn’t put me in the clear. Not until the trade deadline passed at the end of February. Because if the front office wanted to switch things up and bring in new meat, there was nothing I could do to change their minds.
Nothing other than play my best and let the chips fall where they may.
These thoughts circled my head as I entered the locker room and stripped out of my equipment, not taking time to stop and shoot the shit with my teammates before grabbing a towel and heading for the showers. Thankfully, the spray was hot enough to shove most of my worries away, and the steam did wonders to rid me of telltale reek of hard work.
Yo, did you guys see Leonard’s hat trick against Florida last night ? Mackay said, his voice carrying into the showers as I dried off, wrapping my towel around my waist.
It was definitely a beauty.
Especially that second goal. A rocket right off the inside of the post.
And maybe it’ll be good for us, I cut in, starting to dress. It’s doubtful lightning like that strikes twice in a row.
Wellsley’s right, Simmons said, clapping me on the shoulder. Somehow, even though I’d been the first to hit the showers, he was already dressed and packed to leave. If the guy’s not at top capacity tomorrow and we can get an edge over their starting defensive line, we’ll have a great shot at securing another W.
Damn straight, I said, easily going along with the handshake he offered. See you tomorrow ?
Bright and early for game film.
The locker room slowly began to dwindle down once our captain made his exit, though since Nyberg and I carpooled most days-there was no need to take two cars to and from the same place-I was left waiting for him.
Dude, he said, minutes later when he was finally ready to go. He combed his fingers through his damp hair. I totally blanked that I’m meant to swing by Harvard to chat with their goalie. Coach set it up last week, since the guy is a senior and hoping to be an unrestricted free agent after graduation, especially with the team set to make the Frozen Four for the second time. So, I can either quickly swing by the apartment and drop you off, or-
Don’t worry about it, I’ll come with you, I said, tossing my gym bag over my shoulder. Though I held out my hand for his keys. But I’m driving.
Did Orlov say anything about his quad still acting up ? Nyberg said from the passenger seat as I drove into Harvard Square, wanting to snag a free spot instead of paying the fees on campus and at the arena.
Yeah. He’d dived in front of a hard shot in our last game, but while the puck had bounced off his pads, the speed of it had brought the pain with it. The doctors have said it’s just a bruise, but if he’s still gritting his teeth after icing it tonight, he’ll be sitting tomorrow.
Rough.
I’m guessing Coach already has Carter on speed dial, since that’s who usually gets the call.
And he’s been playing well this season, so I don’t think it’ll put us back too far.
I agreed. It’ll be fine. Montreal won’t know what’s hit them.
Spotting the parking garage I’d been looking for, I turned in and saw it wasn’t as busy as I expected. Though it had also just gone five, so a lot of people must’ve already headed home for the night. Making it that much easier to find an open spot on the first level, where I backed in Nyberg’s SUV and cut the engine.
So, not that I don’t enjoy the company, Nyberg drawled as we climbed out the car and headed for the street, but shouldn’t you have a date or something lined up for tonight ? I mean, didn’t that blonde girl at the bar last weekend slip you her number ? What happened ?
Charlie, said blonde girl, had indeed given me her number after we’d spent the better part of the night feeling each other up in the back corner of the bar. The problem, however, laid in the chemistry. Or lack thereof. With only two beers in me, I’d tried to get into it-kissing her hard as her hands explored underneath my shirt-but there’d been no will to move things further until another face popped into my head.
Another face, from another bar. Red hair, pink lips, and green eyes that brought me back to a night I desperately wanted to repeat. Sex with Lia had been off the charts and I’d woken up the next morning intending to ask to see her again, only to find myself alone with a note on her pillow.
Thanks for a great night.
Five words that were enough to let me know she wasn’t interested in a repeat. Something my brain clearly hadn’t registered in the nearly two weeks that had passed since then.