Page 119 of Her Goal
After my failed proposal,publicly asking Leah to go to the Cobbiton Hockey HoCo with me was a bold, audacious move, but she said yes. And it paid off because even though I had fun at the original high school homecoming, the girl I went with made out with my brother later that night. Claimed she got us mixed up.
Leah was left alone.
Me too.
This time is different.
The social media chatter about why I’d ask my fiancé to go to a team dance was overshadowed by how adorable my sign was. Supposedly, hockey homecoming dances are trending now.
Not that I pay much attention to these things because Leah has all of it—except while I’m on the ice during a vital game for playoff potential against the St. Louis Liberators, who’re proving to be a worthy contender this year. Their center is fresh off recovery from a groin injury and a new pair of forwards makes us all up our game.
In the locker room, Liam repeatedly tells us not to get lazy. Then, just as we’re about to start the game, he hollers. “Forget what I told you. I want a double shot of espresso energy. Be like apack of kids who just ate an entire birthday cake. You’re puppies in the snow for the first time. Bring it!”
And we do. Our defense doesn’t let the opposition’s front line cross the blue, keeping the puck squarely near the Liberator’s net. They don’t break free before Jack gets the puck, slaps it to Liam, who sends it to Redd. He scores a goal between the knees. We rule during the first period and get slippery during the second when Beau lets them score before I’m swapped in during the final twenty minutes. Keeping pace with our other goalie, they score again, then our guys come back with a vengeance. I block three pucks with the remaining time on the clock, leaving a sizable gap.
Afterward, Liam speeds through the re-captain, Badaszek and Vohn limit their locker room meeting, and the rest of us hurry through showering because tonight is the CoHoHoCo and we won the game, making it extra sweet.
By the time I emerge from the locker room, I’ve inhaled at least a metric ton of cologne, but am fresh and in a suit. My gaze instantly finds Leah, waiting with the other women—all dressed in sparkly, shiny, shimmery, silky gowns.
She stands out like a wildflower in a field. My breath catches when she spots me across the room, frozen in place because of how remarkably beautiful she is. I can only imagine our wedding day, words that would’ve seemed like a foreign language a few months ago.
Let’s hope we make it that far. It seems like she’s leaning in that direction, but I’m afraid if I ask her point-blank, she’ll retreat.
She glows in her gown with her hair swept to the side and long, gold dangling earrings hanging from her ears. Her lashes are dark, her lips are full … and I am staring as I stride across the room.
When I reach her, she asks, “What?”
“You look like?—”
She peers down at her feet and then up at me, eyes pinched but mouth in a snarl. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Say it. Whatever. I don’t care.”
“Say what?”
“That I look like a freak. I wasn’t going to wear high heels, but the girls insisted.”
“Leah, you look—” I shake my head. “There’s a moment in every hockey player’s life when the shiniest, most beautiful thing they can imagine is the Stanley Cup. But you are dazzling.”
“You’re comparing me to a trophy?”
“Arguably the most coveted trophy in the world.” Fueled by post-win mojo, but speaking the truth, I lean in and whisper. “It’s engraved with hundreds of names. The only one I want you to have is mine. Leah, you are devastatingly gorgeous, and except for the married men inside that party, they’re all going to be drooling over you.” I wipe the edge of my mouth as a precaution.
She blinks like the words slowly sink in, replacing the ones she’s told herself. Lifting her chin, the corner of her lip curls. “You didn’t have to say that. I still would’ve gone with you.”
“I said it because I mean it and it’s true.” I jut my elbow for her to take and we make our grand entrance to the Cobbiton Hockey Homecoming dance.
“The enchanted masquerade ball is very fitting, considering it’s almost Halloween,” I say.
“Margo is amazing.”
“This almost feels like a warm-up for our wedding.”
She sneaks a peek in my direction. “You do look dapper, dressed in a suit.”
My spine lengthens slightly. “You think so?”
“Have you seen yourself in a mirror?”
“Well, yeah. I showed up at zero dark thirty practice too many times with my shirt backward to not look in the mirror before I leave my house.”
