I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, my heart pounding in my chest. Every fiber of my being is focused on the game ahead. The rink is alive with energy, and I know that this is where I belong.
But I can't help looking around and wishing—no, praying that a certain someone would show up tonight, wearing my jersey.
The final buzzer sounds, bringing me back to the present moment and signaling the end of regulation, and tension mounts on the ice. The game is tied, and we’re headed into a shootout to determine the winner. Skating back to the bench, I take a deep breath, calming my nerves.
The home team gets to pick if they go first for a shootout, and tonight we took the honors. Ollie’s up first, but the Blades’ goalie manages to stop him. The Blades then send out a player for their turn, but he’s no match for Dixon, the Renegades’ goalie and one of the best in the AHL. Henry takes his turn, getting closer but again, but his puck is blocked by their goalie. They’re giving us a run for our money tonight.
The Blades then send up Todd Stillman, who is center and the guy I fought with, only now when I see him, I don’t see red. Even thinking about how he was with Riley, I’m not in rage mode…because I know how she feels about him.
Also, when I found out he was going to be here tonight, I sent a bouquet of flowers to his room and told him I missed him. I know it’s childish, but I couldn’t resist.
The arena is silent when Todd makes his way over to Dixon and takes his shot, but I’m pretty sure we broke the record for sound and noise the instant Dixon slapped it back out of the net and across the rink.
Finally, it’s my turn. I skate out to center ice, the weight of the game resting on my shoulders. I pick up the puck and start toward the goalie, and the crowd falls silent. All I can hear is the sound of my own breathing and the scrape of my skates against the ice. I deke left, then right, trying to outmaneuver their man on the net. With a quick flick of my wrist, I send the puck flying toward the net.
Time seems to slow as I watch the puck sail past the goalie and into the back of the net. No matter how many times this happens in my career, I don’t think I’ll get over the feeling that rushes through me when I know we’ve won, and this is one of those times.
The crowd erupts in cheers as my teammates rush out onto the ice to swarm me. We’ve won the game, and the winning point came from yours truly.
Victory courses through my veins, and I let my eyes scan the crowd. There’s nothing more I want right now than to see someone I know. Anyone…
And then my eyes land on Travis.
Standing at the glass, he’s wearing a Renegades sweatshirt and pumping his fist in the air screaming my name, and while I’m loving his enthusiasm, it’s the figure that stands beside him who I’m enamored with.
Beside him, with her mane of dark hair flowing loosely on her shoulders, Riley claps and cheers. As her eyes slam into mine, I feel everything else around me fade away. I think someone is slapping me on the back, but I’m numb with sheer excitement.
Pointing, I motion for Riley to meet me at the entrance to the team tunnel. I glide over to the glass and meet her there, taking off my headgear. Both of us are grinning and staring at each other as I skate the length of the glass to the opening and she mimics my movements on her side, walking and navigating her way through the people milling around to the entrance.
I cannot take my eyes off of her.
As we get closer to the break in the glass, she does a spin, treating me to a full view of her in my jersey. Does my heart flipping skip several beats when I see my last name on her back? Yes, it does.
As we both arrive at the tunnel entrance, everything in me is on fire. I’ve been cool and chill for this game, focused and calm, but I have no patience now, and as soon as I get the opportunity I give myself permission to attack.
She’s barely managed to stop and I grab her, tossing one of my gloves off and to the side as I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her toward me—while also being cautious so I don’t pull her onto the ice.
“Hi,” she whispers, our noses touching as I give her a squeeze. “I got your note.”
Blushing, I let my eyes slide over her as I grin. “You look great in that jersey, you know.”
“There are a lot of men running around here in this same outfit,” she teases, that sassy tone I was introduced to sending a tiny flutter through my system. “Are you going to compliment them, too?”
“Maybe?” I say with a laugh. Can’t lie. I’m beyond happy right now. I could score all of the winning points in the world for all the games and I don’t think I’d feel as buoyant as I do with this woman standing in front of me. She’s here. For me.
“I guess my note worked…?” I start to ask, but Travis steps beside us, putting his hand out and patting me on the back.
“Epic return, Jake! Man. So good.”
“Thanks, I’m glad I'm back,” I say to Travis but keep my gaze solely on Riley. “It feels good to be home with my family.”
“And, we’ve got better news,” Travis adds. “Greta emailed that she’s not going to pursue any more stories about you unlessthey’re relevant. She used a lot of word salad in the email, but the gist is that she’s leaving you alone.”
“Really?” I ask, pulling my eyes from Riley but only for a second. When I look back, there is laughter dancing in those sea-green eyes of hers. “I wonder who it was that convinced her to stop?”
“Would love to thank them in person,” she says, winking. “I bet whoever it was is quite the spitfire.”
I let my eyes drag themselves across her body again, taking in this woman wearingmyjersey. “Yes, spitfire.”
