Page 52 of Ice Princess

Or…

Unless…

I’ve always been listening for her voice after a game.

The revelation takes me by surprise, but I don’t have time to dwell on it as I’m jolted into a team huddle. We all dogpile on top of Chance. The guy’s probably a pancake beneath our bodies.

We finally let up to give Chance air. He barrels straight for me, slinging an arm over my shoulder.

“You read me, Kinsey. How’d you understand that sign? We haven’t practiced it before.”

I shrug again. Back when Chance first came to the team, he challenged me to a game and beat me so badly that I limped home with my tail tucked between my legs. Right after he humiliated me, he let it slip that he’d studied our tapes.

Two could play that game and I decided to study his tapes too. Not just for entertainment, but to really learn how he played so I could beat him the next time we took to the ice for a showdown.

The more I watched Chance’s plays, the more I learned how he thought on the ice. He had a temper, sure. And he hated being pushed into the boards. The guy was a hot head.

But he was also loyal. He looked out for his teammates, didn’t hog the puck, and was fast to shift plays when the situation called for it.

My intense dislike slowly turned into a grudging admiration.

“I’m not letting you get away that easy, Kinsey. You gotta tell me.” Chance playfully hooks his arm around my neck as we skate to the player’s bench.

Thankfully, he’s distracted by Theilan, Watson and Renthrow. The guys are talking about the game and raving about the last play.

The coach doesnotlook happy that we went off-script, but I know he’s on his way out so it doesn’t bother me.

I take off my helmet and grab my bottle of water. As I sip, I glance at the section where Rebel sat during the game. The bleachers are emptying out. Rebel’s probably lost among the masses who are heading home.

If I know her, she’s probably running to be the first through the gate. I doubt she wants to see me right now. Not with the way she was blushing after I caught her yelling ‘my boyfriend’over and over.

The memory feels just as good as the win tonight.

I really enjoyed hearing her say that.

A lot.

The adrenaline fades from my veins while I move through the after-game routine.

Reporters are clamoring for an interview. Chance takes most of the questions, which I’m extremely grateful for. Prancing around in front of the press is the worst part of hockey for me.

When I’m asked specific questions, I offer the lines I’ve rehearsed a million times over, making sure to give praise to the entire team for any win of my own.

Then, finally, the frenzy is over and we jog back to the lockers where most of the team is congregated. Theilan is chatty, as usual, but most of the other guys are tuckered out. We came out the victors tonight, but that battle felt ten times harder than usual.

“Guys,” Chance says, clearing his throat as he steps forward. “About tonight, I’m sorry.”

Everyone’s head whips around to look at him.

It’s so quiet, a pin could drop.

“I’ve been overthinking a lot of things since I came back to the team. For some reason, the pressure here feels ten times heavier than it did in the league.”

Watson grins. “That’s because you care about us.”

“Yeah, actually giving a crap messes with you,” Theilan agrees.

Renthrow nods. “I felt the same way with Gordie. Every decision felt so important. I second-guessed myself a lot.”

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