Page 110 of On Thin Ice

“No, you don’t,” Jacob said, chuckling. “You’re fucking grateful, that’s what you are.”

Please continue to be grateful when you find out what else Finn trusts me with.

“Fine, fine,” Morgan grumbled. “I’m alittlegrateful. But anyone could have done this.”

“Right, of course,” Jacob said. But he knew the truth.

Nobody else was going to be as good for Finn as him. He knew it was true, because nobody else was ever going to love Finn like he did.

“Thirty-six seconds left,” Zach reminded the team in the locker room, right before they took the ice for the second period.

Like Finn was going to forget about the power play.

He’d been thinking about it during the whole intermission, turning over and over in his mind the way the Bandits had approached the first minute and a half and what else he knew about them as an offensive team.

What new wrinkle they might attempt with only thirty-six seconds left and twenty minutes to plan.

It was better thinking about that than thinking about how his father was sitting out in the crowd, watching him. No doubt judging him.

“You good?” Brody asked, stopping by where Finn was sitting on the bench.

“Yeah,” Finn said. “Barely any action in the first.”

He couldn’t say he’d beenbored, exactly, but he hadn’t been disappointed to watch as Elliott and Mal and the rest of the Evergreens’ offense harassed the Bandits’ goalie.

“Ell and Mal have really found a new gear,” Brody agreed. “I’m just trying to keep the Bandits from kicking Elliott’s ass.”

“Mal’s not helping you with that?”

Brody grinned. “He’s the first line of defense, frankly.”

“I’d imagine so.”

It was usually the same story. The opposing team would hit the ice determined to stop Elliott, who was the fastest, slyest scorer in their conference. There were rumblings how he’d be taken in the first round of the draft.Earlyin the first round. But what opposing teams had yet to pick up was that now Elliott had a protector, who was bigger and stronger and would absolutely lay them out if they crossed the line.

“Well, we’ve got you,” Brody said, patting Finn on the shoulder pad. “Got your back.”

Finn knew it.

Felt the whole weight of the team—but not the same kind of pressure he might have experienced before—as he entered the rink, lights flashing and the crowd applauding.

He’d always felt the team’s expectations as a weight, pushing him down, making it hard sometimes to even hold his head up high, but now he was seeing it differently, and it helped.

They had his back, and he had theirs.

The puck dropped, and Finn braced, stick in front, gaze glued on Brody, who’d managed to divert it behind the goal.

He sped around the corner, battling against two of the Bandits’ linemen, sticks clanging against the ice as they tried to steal the puck. Ivan joined in, shoving another player out, and Finn tensed.

They were almost around the goal now, parallel to the crease, and he was going to make a stop, because if they stole the puck theywouldtake a shot.

He just had to time it perfectly.

They stole the puck from Ramsey and passed it then passed it again, and Finn knew he was going to have to make a calculated guess. It was fifty-fifty and if he guessed wrong . . .

No,he told himself,don’t go there.

He’d seen the center shoot in the first period, and he knew they were trying to center it for him—which made sense, because Finn was pretty sure he was the best player on the team.

---