Page 119 of Cold As Ice

Noah managed to evade his D-man, and with a little flick, he sent the puck hurtling into the net.

The buzzer sounded, and the home crowd went wild. Even Connor leaped up, celebrating with the rest of our teammates.

One to two.

We were back in the game. But there was still a long way to go.

* * *

When the final whistle sounded, we’d won the game seven to five. And in true Lakers style, we all filed off the ice and high-fived Connor as if it was his win as much as ours.

“Good game.” He gave me a small nod.

“Thanks. It was close there for a second.”

“Nah, knew you could do it.” His mouth twitched as I moved past him into the locker room.

I was beat. Every inch of my body, achy and sore. It hadn’t just been a tough game; it had been a dogfight, and we’d had to claw for every puck and every goal.

The fact I’d let five goals slip past my glove pissed me off, but we got the win, and that’s all that mattered.

“Hey, Hart, you looked a little tired out there,” Abel Adams called with a cocky smirk.

“Fuck you, asshole.”

“Ignore him,” Noah said, coming up beside me. “You know he likes to live up to his reputation as the dumbest motherfucker on the team,” he said the last part loud enough for Adams to hear.

“I don’t understand why Coach doesn’t just kick his ass to the curb.”

“Because other than a bit of banter, he plays by the rules, and he’s a decent enough player.”

“He’s an asshole.” I pinned him with a dangerous look.

Noah’s hand slid between us, and he shoved my chest. “Don’t let him bait you. He isn’t worth it.”

“Hmm.” I began pulling off my protective gear, but Coach Tucker had other ideas.

“Okay, team, listen up. We got the win”—a group of cheers went up around me—“but you made it look like hard work. Austin, son, you looked a little distracted out there tonight. Anything I need to be worried about?”

“No, sir.”

Noah’s eyes drilled into the side of my face, but I didn’t acknowledge him.

I knew Rory had probably filled him in on our trip to Syracuse; the fact I’d drunk myself stupid at the bar after pouring my heart out to her.

We didn’t talk about it the next day. We’d simply grabbed her shit from the house and gotten the fuck out of there.

I didn’t want to talk about it. As far as I was concerned, it was done.

Over.

Mom could burn the house to the ground for all I cared.

“Well, okay then. You need to keep showing up. Especially if you’re going to talk to the Canucks.”

A couple of the guys whistled, but I waved them off.

I hadn’t decided anything yet.

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