Page 34 of A Whole New Trick

Besides, we work together. I won’t do anything to jeopardize that.

Morgan will have to be the one to make a move if anything is going to happen between us—a fact I remind myself of daily whenever I catch myself staring at her lips when she talks or admiring her beautiful smile when she laughs at one of Eli’s jokes.

“Larson,” Gavin shouts my name from where he banks the puck off the boards behind the Bombers’ net.

I skate left and catch his pass, quickly spinning with the puck against my stick and changing direction.

The crowd roars at the maneuver.

Satisfaction zips through me.

I skate back towards the center of the ice to set up another play. The score is tied, three to three. There are two minutes left in the third period. If we remain tied, we will go into overtime. I have the endurance to keep playing at my best, but I can’t say the same for the rest of my team. If we want to guarantee victory, we need to score now.

I breathe in deep. Coach Miller shouts a play from behind the player’s bench. I nod to signal that I got the message and then start skating around the rink, passing the rock to my teammates to drain some clock while the Bombers try, but fail, to steal it.

The clock winds down to forty-five seconds. It’s time to act.

Brody passes the puck back to me. I take off down the center, spinning over my right shoulder when Oli tries to check my legs. I skate three strides, lunge out, and pass the puck to Gavin.

The right winger presses down on the goalie. A defenseman stands in his path, but his skates aren’t set. Gavin times his shot perfectly. The black disk flies between the defenseman’s legs.

The goalie loses sight of the puck for a split second. That’s all the time needed to lose sight of its trajectory. He has a fifty-fifty shot of blocking the shot by dropping his leg pads to block low.

But the shot is high.

The puck strikes the back of the net. A horn blares through the arena, but the sound is drowned out by the sound of my teammates and fans cheering when the game-time horn goes off two seconds later.

“Yahoo, you bastard! Hell of a shot.” Brody crashes into Gavin. I join him, followed by the rest of our team, as the players empty the players’ bench to join us on the ice to celebrate.

Round one is done.

The Ranchers need to win one more round to reach the conference finals. Then, if we are crowned conference champions, we will have the opportunity to play for the coveted Stanley Cup.

I am so fucking stoked.

This is our season. I feel it in my bones.

I look out at the crowd and see Eli and Morgan jumping and screaming along with the rest of the Ranchers’ fans in the arena. A smile tugs on my lips when Morgan leans down to high-five Coach Miller’s grandsons who are wearing my jersey number.

At that moment, the past between me and Morgan seems inconsequential compared to what’s happening between us now.

Being around her, laughing, joking, and sometimes arguing feels… right.

Once again, I remind myself that I can’t make the first move.

Iwon’tmake the first move.

After what happened the last time I took a chance on love, I’m not sure my ego could take another rejection—not from someone as incredible as Morgan Caldwell.

Not again.

11

MORGAN

I stand nextto the bus that brought the Ranchers and staff from the hotel to the arena, enjoying the cool night air and the quieter atmosphere. The arena had been bursting with cheers, boos, and screams throughout the entire game. Echoes of the sounds still ring in my ears, even in the quiet, as I recall game highlights.

Dane played incredibly tonight.

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