Page 143 of Of Pucking Course

The music in the sound system switches to a high-energy rock song. A second later, the teams hit the ice.

We’re sitting behind the net, so when Blomdahl heads over, Bella blows him a kiss. Even behind his goalie mask, his smile is bright.

“He’s so in love with you,” Maya says to her.

“I love my hot goalie.”

The three of us chuckle. We spot Ingrid at the edge of the ice. She’s filming the players as they warm up so she can post clips to the Bashers social media accounts.

I watch as she films Sam go through an impressive puck handling warm-up.

Bella bumps my shoulder. “Your boyfriend is good with his stick.”

I burst out laughing. “He sure is.”

The guys all take practice shots at Blomdahl in the net. The second Sam shoots the puck, he catches eyes with me. Smiling, I stand up so he can get a full view of my jersey.

He skids to a halt on the ice, his gemstone eyes going wide. My tummy flips.

He skates over to the glass and motions for me to meet him.

“You’re wearing my jersey,” he says, a surprised smile dancing across his lips.

I beam. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

I spin around so he can see his name and number on my body. I swipe my hair over my shoulder and look behind me so I can see his face.

His eyes widen the slightest bit, and the look in his eyes sharpens and focuses all at once.

He looks back at my face. “That’s hot.”

I bite back a massive grin. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

The Bashers are in the middle of the third round of the playoffs. They’ve won the past two games against the Montreal Beasts. They won the very first game they played against Montreal, but Montreal beat them twice after that. But if the Bashers win tonight, they are for sure going to the finals.

Nerves fire off inside of me. They’re so close to a shot at the Stanley Cup. If I’m this worked up, I can only imagine how nervous and stressed all the players on the team are.

I take in the easy smile on Sam’s face. He looks so relaxed and content right now.

“You make the playoffs look easy,” I tease.

He chuckles. “Not even close. It’s been a fight to make it here. I still can’t believe I’ve made it this far. My firstplayoffs.” He shakes his head and glances around, like he can’t believe it.

I look him in the eye. “You deserve to be here, Sam. You earned it.”

His gaze softens, and he’s quiet for a second. Almost like he’s taking to heart what I’ve said.

For so long, he’s been the support. The guy who supports his teammates. The guy who supports his friends.

I want to be his support now. I want to be the person who builds him up in this moment, who makes him believe that he deserves to be here, at the playoffs, playing for a shot at the championship.

“Thanks for that,” he says, the softest smile pulling at his lips. “This would be a million times harder without you here.”

Emotion surges through me at just how much it means to hear him say that.

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