Page 173 of Game Changer
“I’ll text you a selfie from the game, all right?”
“Oh, fuck you.”
When they were out on the street, Maria hugged him. “I’m happy for you, Kip. I mean it. I act like a bitch, but you’re one of the best people I know and you deserve that fantasy man.”
He kissed her cheek. “Thank you. Maybe next time we go out Scott will come too.”
“Tell him to leave his shirt at home. And to bring a teammate!”
Kip laughed. “Will do.”
Maria headed toward the subway, and Kip and Elena headed in the opposite direction.
“After tonight, you might be dating a Stanley Cup champion,” Elena said.
“Finally, a reason to be impressed by him!”
She took his arm and tilted her head onto his shoulder. “I’m glad you’ll be in good hands when I’m gone.”
“Me too. But I am going to miss you so fucking much.”
“I know.”
“And...”
He couldn’t see her eyes, but he was sure she rolled them. “I’ll miss you too,” she said. “Not to get all emotional, but I like you.”
Kip laughed and nudged her. “Thanks, pal.”
* * *
The third period was agony.
Scott could feel the tension radiating from the crowd. He certainly felt it on the bench, and in his own stomach.
The period had started with L.A. scoring a quick goal to make it 2–1. With ten minutes left in the period, Huff had scored off an assist from Scott to tie it 2–2. The crowd had roared while the Admirals had breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Then came the real nail-biting stuff.
First, New York got a penalty, so they’d been shorthanded for two minutes. It seemed to last for twenty minutes, but they’d managed to kill it off without giving up a goal. There had been five minutes left on the clock.
Another minute had gone by and L.A.almostscored, but Bennett made an amazing save that kept New York in the game.
Then, with two minutes left, Scott had gotten the puck and he would never remember how exactly it happened, but suddenly he was on a breakaway. He raced toward the net, completely focused on his target, and sent the puck just over the L.A. goaltender’s right leg.
Now Scott stood behind the bench with the rest of his teammates and watched the clock tick down the final seconds of the game.
Eight... Seven... Six...
Holy shit.
We did it. We’re going to win the Stanley Cup.
Five... Four...
The roar of the crowd was deafening; eighteen thousand people on their feet, cheering for their home team. It was everything Scott had ever dreamed this moment would be.
Two... One...
