Page 136 of Puck Me Secretly

The third periodwas a different game. Instead of being on the defense, our team worked together like a swarm of soldiers, cross-checking and hitting anything and everything that moved on the ice. It was violent and brutal and three fights broke out. Our players didn’t stand around watching. When one of their own got into an altercation, all the players got involved.

We were bleeding and bruised. But Minnesota bled more.

We fought our way back to a tie and when Max got a breakaway, it felt like the entire stadium held its breath. When he shot the puck, in what seemed like an impossible shot, and scored, the entire stadium went berserk.

Dad stood beside me, his arms crossed.

“You hear that?” I asked him.

“What?”

“That’s the sound of long overdue appreciation.”

Max circled the net, and for the first time since I had seen him play for the Wolves, he lifted his head and smiled up at the crowd. The roar of the crowd heightened.

“Thirteen minutes,” I shook my head.

“What?”

“That’s how long it took this crowd to realize they needed him.”

CHAPTER 47

TWEET

Hockey Gurl@hockeygurl

Last night I heard that Rory offered four different Wolves players a blow job, but no one wanted that filthy mouth anywhere near them. She threatened to fire each and every one of them. #NastyGirl

CHAPTER 48

I stoodin the shadows and watched as the players came out of the locker room. When Max came out, I stepped forward but paused when a flock of women swarmed him. I narrowed my eyes. They were all holding something.

He signed copies, and it took me a moment to realize that he was signing a calendar. When he was done, he lifted his eyes up, looking for me. I walked towards the staff parking lot. I sensed him fall in behind me. We got into the vehicle and didn’t speak. It was only when we pulled out of the parking lot, away from potential eyes and witnesses, did I breathe a sigh of relief.

When we arrived at his place, he yanked at his tie. “I’m going to change. Make yourself at home. Grab a drink.”

I poured myself a glass of wine.

“What did you think of the rest of the game?” he called from the bedroom.

“I think you're winning over the crowd.” I wandered around his kitchen. He had some bills on the counter. A big canister of protein shake powder sat next to a blender. “I also noticed that you had some new fans outside the dressing room.”

“Yeah,” he sounded less enthused.

“What did they want you to sign?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar!” I laughed. “Where is it?”

“You don’t want to see it.”

“Tell me.”

“In one of the kitchen drawers.”

I pulled open drawers, noting that most of them were empty. There it was. The NHL calendar. I eagerly flipped it to the month of December.

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