Page 73 of Holiday Interference

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Second shot—I wind up at the top of the circle andhammerit home. It rings off the post and in.

I skate the curve hard, ice spraying high. Riley’s laughing, already reaching for me as I pass the bench.

Finn slaps my ass with his stick. “Nowthat’swhat I’m talkin’ about, rookie!”

But I’m not slowing down.

I’m locked in the zone now.

In the third shift, there’s a defender on me, but I shake him off. Quickly cutting left, I flick the puck top shelf.

Hat trick.

I barely register the explosion of noise around me. The arena is on its feet. My heart’s in my throat.

I loop back toward the bench, andthat’swhen I see her.

Behind the glass.

Red coat. Dark hair. Smile like it could cut straight through bone. She’s lit up like the whole damn world’s turned gold.

She’s clapping.

Laughing.

Beaming.

And looking straight atme.

No cameras. No sponsor bullshit. No agenda.

Just pride. Like I’m hers.

Our eyes lock.

Everything slows down.

My lungs seize. My feet keep moving, but I don’t feel the ice. I feelher.

Right here in my chest.

I don’t even know if I’m breathing.

She’s not just watching.

She’s seeing me.

The real me.

The one who never let anyone in and didn’t even realize how alone he was until she walked out the door and took the warmth with her.

The buzzer sounds behind me.

Period’s over.

I coast toward the tunnel, chest heaving, whole body humming.

And for the first time in over a week, I don’t feel like I’m unraveling.

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