Page 93 of Second Chance with the Enemy CEO
That evening, after a hearty dinner courtesy of Chef Liam, we spent the rest of the night curled up on the couch together, talking and watching Game of Thrones.
This is perfect.
Chapter twenty-nine
Liam
The energy in the arena is electric, almost suffocating. Fans are screaming, banging on the glass, waving flags, and blowing horns. It is deafening; the ice beneath my skates feels alive, humming with the energy of the arena. It is the Avalanche versus the Red Hawks. This is not just a game; it’s the game - the final of the season. The fight for the championship.
I grip my stick tightly, rolling my shoulders as I take my position at center ice. Across from me, their captain, Harper, is glaring at me. The ref steps forward for the puck drop. James and Tomas are at my sides, while Josh and Nate hold the blue line.
“You ready?” I say to James
“Born ready,” he replies.
Just then, the whistle blows, and the instant the puck hits the ice, everything is in full swing. Harper lunges for it, but I intercept, snapping it to Josh with the blade of my stick. The crowd roars as Josh takes control, skating backwards to avoid the Red Hawks’ relentless forwards closing in on him.
“Go! Go!” Josh shouts, firing the puck up the boards to Tomas.
Tomas catches the pass and rockets down the ice, his skates cutting sharp lines into the surface. He dodges a brutal hit from one of their defensemen and sends the puck my way. Catching it cleanly, I dart around another Red Hawk, pushing deep into their zone.
The noise is deafening, but all I hear is my own breath. Harper is on me, his stick slashing at mine, trying to knock the puck loose.
“Not today,” I mutter, spinning sharply to shake him off.
I spot James cutting toward the crease and firing a pass. He catches it but gets slammed into the boards before he can shoot. The puck squirts free, and Harper is there, scooping it up and sprinting toward our end.
“Back! Back!” Blake yells from the goal.
The Red Hawks move like a pack of wolves, their passes sharp and precise. Harper fakes a shot, then dishes it off to their winger, who is wide open. He fires, and my heart skips a beat.
Blake dives, his glove flashing out like lightning. Snag! He catches it, and the crowd explodes into cheers and groans.
“Nice save!” I call, skating by as Blake tosses the puck to Nate.
We are moving again. Nate passes to Josh, who threads the puck to Tomas. Tomas moves fast, slipping through their defense like water; he fires it as fast as their goalie blocks his shot with his pads.
The rebound lands in front of me. I do not think - I just shoot.
Clang!
It hits the post, and the groans are almost as loud as the cheers from the Red Hawks’ fans.
The game is relentless. Hits are harder, passes sharper, and the tension thickens with every passing second. Harper is everywhere, their goalie is unbeatable, and every time we think we have an opening, it closes just as fast.
Midway through the first period, the Red Hawks strike. Harper wins a faceoff in our zone, feeding the puck to their winger, who blasts it past Blake’s blocker side.
0-1.
The Red Hawks’ fans erupt, their cheers echoing through the arena. I grit my teeth and skate to the bench as the whistle blows, ending the first period.
“Nate, you are out, take a breather. Logan, you are in.” Coach says, his voice cutting through the noise. “Listen up - stop playing into their trap! You guys have got to find a way around their defense. What are you guys doing, huh? They are locking down the slot, so use the outside lanes. Keep the puck moving, stay sharp, and for God’s sake, someone park in front of the net!”
“Yes, Coach,” we answer in unison.
“Now, go in there, and get them”
The whistle blows for the second period. The puck drops, and Tomas wins it in the corner and sends it to James. It is practically a dogfight. James weaves through and slides the puck to Logan, who quickly redirects it to me. I spot James cutting through the slot and send it back his way.
