Page 182 of Breaking Point
3-0.
“He’s back, baby! The devil twins are fucking back!” Kieran whoops and hollers.
The crowd cheers, the arena chanting, “IceHawks! IceHawks! IceHawks!”
Asher skates our way, ripping off his helmet as he cheers, “Let’s fucking go!”
“Another victory on our belt, Cap!” Caleb announces as he joins the fold.
Surprisingly, I’m too happy to correct him that I’m not their captain.
“We’re on our way to the fucking Stanley Cup!” Irving hollers. “I can feel it in my fucking balls we’re going to win.”
The boys groan, pulling away, but we all laugh, shaking our heads. “Way to ruin a moment with your balls, Irving,” Mitchel scoffs, shoving Irving playfully.
The next hour is a blur of showers, celebrations, and microphones shoved in our faces at the press conference, and for once, I don’t have a pit in my stomach walking into it.
No one besides Kieran and Bella knows I slipped in my sobriety, and I’m okay keeping that out of the headlines. For once it won’t be about how I’m spiraling but instead how I’m skating, and there’s no better feeling in the world than my hard work being recognized.
And I feel like I owe it all to Bella.
I’ve put in the hard work skating—no one can take that credit—but if it weren’t for her help two weeks ago, I’m afraid to admit that I probably would have kept spiraling.
The group at AA has been nothing but supportive as well. Their words and stories of how many times it took them slipping to stand strong made the guilt lessen enough to start believing that this time around I can stay sober.
“Grayson, how do you feel knowing you’re sending your team into the playoffs?” a reporter asks, the blinding lights not allowing me to see who the deep voice belongs to.
I wish I could say I hope it’s not one that wrote something nasty about Drew and me, but they all did. Reporters will do anything for a click.
I chuckle, the deep timbre of it ringing from the speakers. “It’s not because of me that we’re heading to the playoffs, it’s because of the incredible team. It’s not one man’s talent or hard work, it’s a group effort, and I have to thank IceHawks for their incredible teamwork that we’re once again going to the playoffs.”
A clap on my back from Asher beside me has me grinning. He sits to my left, answering a question directed his way, while Logan sits on my right and answers another. Coach is smart not to put Kieran, Irving, or Mitchel in front of the microphones after games. They’re loose cannons. Logan, Asher, and I are Coach’s best bet at no mishaps.
The guys really took over when I mentally stepped out and I’ll forever be grateful to them. I just hope I can make it up to them and prove to not only them but to my team and coaches that I’m mentally here again—that I’m ready to stay.
“Grayson,” a deep voice calls, drawing my attention to somewhere in the far right back corner. “Have you got any more declarations of love for us?”
The guys beside me choke, not being able to cover their laughs with coughs quick enough. I don’t regret a second of it.
Which leads me to wink at the camera sitting in front of us, knowing Bella is watching. “Just that Bella is still my girl and I can’t wait to get home to her.”
“Pussy whipped,” Logan coughs through his fist away from the microphones and cameras.
Asher leans back in his chair, making it look like he’s stretching as he covers his mouth and says, “Just wait for your turn, Logan. You’ll be as whipped as they come, my friend.”
Okay, maybe we aren’t completely responsible during the conferences.
The head of PR for IceHawks steps forward, wrapping up the interviews, giving us the signal to leave. I clap O’Connor’s back as we head out. “Ready to see the carnage the women created?”
He grimaces. “God no. I once came home from a game to find Cindy had painted black and white stripes over her entire body in support but once she got drunk, she realized she looked like a zebra.”
We come to a stop, Johnson and I looking at Asher in horror before we all burst out laughing.
“Fuck me, I can’t wait to see the destruction.”
Forty minutes have passed by the time I pull into my driveway and key in the code.
I’m antsy to see her. My blood humming in my veins with anticipation.
