: Chapter 27

My stomach is staging a revolt. I’m halfway dressed for the game and super fucking thankful that I haven’t put on my skates yet, because the way I have to sprint to the bathroom to toss my cookies would have been impossible if I were wearing blades.

“You okay, man?” Brody asks when I return a minute later, embarrassed and a little shaky.

I take a swig of vitamin water and pop a mint. “Just something I ate.”

But I ate the same things he did this morning, so that’s definitely not it. We’re playing one of the best teams in the university league tonight. Last year they handed Tilton their asses in the playoffs, so it’s a big-ass game tonight.

“Don’t sweat it, Lovett. We’ve all been there.” The team captain claps me on the shoulder, then turns to Brody. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah. I’m used to the hype.”

“Bet you are. Can’t be easy. You got this.” He gives Brody props.

Coach comes into the locker room. “I know tonight is a big night for a lot of you. Especially our rookie players. You want to impress your families, and that’s understandable. Remember that you’re part of this team, and everyone has a role out there on the ice. Play your part, do your best, and you’ll make them proud. Let’s get out there and play some hockey!”

The team whoops excitedly and then we’re heading down the hall to the rink.

The arena is packed. Everyone cheers and screams as we take the ice. It’s a serious rush seeing all these people here. The arena is pretty full during regular games, but this is next level.

I scan the seats, searching for Cammie. I spot Tristan first. He’s easier to find because he’s massive and a head taller than most of the people in the arena. He’s behind our bench with the rest of Brody’s family. Mine and Cammie’s take up the rest of the row. Our parents are sitting together, and Cammie is insulated by her friend Tally, her sister, and Tristan’s fiancée. Which is good because Barbiebelle are two rows back; Barbie is glaring daggers and Annabelle looks uncomfortable. Their place on the social hierarchy has come down a few notches now that they’re banned from hockey parties.

“Holy fucking shit.” One of the second-year players almost trips over his skates. “Is your brother here?” he asks Brody.

Brody shrugs. “It’s family weekend.”

Another second-year skates up next to us. “Is that the head coach for the Terror?” He does a chin tip in the direction of Tally.

“Yeah.” I nod.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.” I guess this explains why I hurled before we came out here.

There’s some real pressure. I just hope I get some ice time and I don’t make a fool out of myself if I do. Our opposition takes the ice and we warm up. Brody takes his place next to me at the end of the bench. I wave to my family and Cammie, who blushes, but waves back. She’s swimming in one of my Tilton Blaze hoodies, but she looks damn well beautiful.

“I’m really fucking nervous,” I mutter.

“I know.” He claps me on the shoulder. “Me too, but it’s a game like any other. Block out the noise and focus on the ice.”

I realize he’s probably echoing something his brother said to him before the game. But it’s solid advice.

I only get two minutes of ice time in the first period. But Flint, one of the seasoned forwards, gets slammed into the boards in the second period and is pulled for a concussion. Our opposition gets a penalty and I end up on the ice. Some of these guys are three years older and nearly twice as broad as I am. They have years of on-ice advantage. But I have the high of my first game in a packed arena with all the people I care about cheering me on as I glide down the ice. Beans passes me the puck and I deke around players, keeping it out of their possession.

Before I hit the crease, I pass it back to Beans. He takes the shot, but it goes wide and hits the goal post, ricocheting toward me. I act on instinct, lining up the shot. The goalie is already in position, skate scraping across the ice until the blade hits the post. I flip the puck up and tap it while it’s in the air. Everything happens in slow motion.

The opposition nudges my shooting arm, hoping to send the puck off course, but it’s already left my blade. The goalie’s arm extends, his intent to catch the puck, but it skims the underside of his glove, sailing through the space between his pads, crossing the line and hitting the net.

The arena erupts in a chorus of excited shouts. My teammates slam into me, cheering right along with the crowd. I scored my first ever goal for my university team. The high is indescribable. I return to the bench and wave to my family who are beaming, and Cammie, whose lip is caught between her teeth. I wink and she smiles. Brody elbows me. “Stop looking at your girlfriend like that when her parents are right beside her.”

“Right. Yeah. Thanks.” I seriously hope we get to celebrate later tonight.

The Blaze rides the wave of excitement maintaining the lead in period two. In the third, Brody stops two goals and manages an assist.

It’s an incredible win.

We’re basically flying in the locker room. One of the seniors invites everyone back to his place for a party. Our families meet us in the lobby and my mom embarrasses me by getting all gushy and emotional.

I almost die a second time when Coach Vander Zee from the Terror compliments both me and Brody on our game play tonight.

Before anyone else can get between me and Cammie, I close the distance and scoop her up, burying my face against her neck. “Thanks for being here. I know it’s not easy for you.”

She pulls back, her smile soft and warm as she cups my face in her palms. “So totally worth it.” She kisses me, then hugs me again, her lips at my ear as she whispers, “Precious and I will show you how proud we are later.”

Life can’t get any better than this.