Charming as Puck(58)

“Oh, stop. Who else would’ve played a total dodohead to make another guy look better to his completely irrational future grandpa-in-law? And I know you made it well worth Elmer’s time to get him to serve us dinner last night.”

“You make me sound nicer than I am.”

“You’re not mean. Not unprovoked, I mean. Even if sometimes you’re not directly provoked. You’re just not always…”

“Nice?” I supply dryly.

“Acutely aware of other people’s feelings and wishes,” she finishes diplomatically.

“Huh.”

“But you’ve never really made it a secret that hockey’s your life, so it’s not like you’re lying about wanting to be something you’re not.”

Sugarbear gallops over again, tongue lolling like a dog, her tail swishing. I rub her head before I toss the ball again.

“Kami?”

“Hm?”

“Thanks for giving me another chance.”

“You earned it.”

There’s a smile in her voice that makes me smile too. “I’m coming over after the game.”

“I’ll consider answering if you get a shutout.”

“Tiger will let me in.”

She sighs dramatically. “She’s so easy. I need to get back to work. I think my next patient just showed up. Play good tonight. Muffy and Aunt Hilda deserve a good show. And Alina will give you shit for weeks if you don’t.”

“You sweet talker, you.”

“And no more presents,” she warns.

We’ll see about that.

“Oh, dammit, I have to go. My battery’s dying.”

I smile. “Better get that thing charged, because you’re gonna be snapping pictures of me all through the game.”

The last thing I hear before I hang up is her laughter. I toss the ball around with Sugarbear a while longer before heading inside to start my normal pre-game power nap routine.

Kami’s coming tonight.

And I’m going to play the best fucking game of my life.

On the ice.

And then off the ice too.





Thirty





Nick



My favorite thing about Mink Arena is that you can hear the crowd from the dressing room.

You know the fans are out there, waiting, hopeful, excited, ready to scream their fucking lungs out to cheer us on to victory.

I was four the first time I had a hockey stick in my hand. Five the first time I stood in the crease. I didn’t even know what the crease was, but I knew if I could play goaltender in hockey, I could be tougher than any shitheads who wanted to shove me around on the playground and tell me my mom slept with the mailman.

Fuck, I didn’t know what your mom slept with the mailman meant then either, but I got the feeling it was something worse than everyone having happy nap time like we had after lunch every day in kindergarten.

But tonight?

Tonight, there are seventeen thousand people up there, waiting for us to take the ice and kick some Minnesota ass.

Ares is getting his ankles taped.

Sokolov and Jaeger are trading Pokémon cards.

Don’t mock it.

Habits are habits and superstitions are superstitions, and they’re both on fucking fire this year.

“You shaved again,” Lavoie says, sitting down and pulling on his skates—right skate first. He’ll put the left on before he ties the laces on either, because it’s what he does.

“The beard wasn’t cutting it this year.”

He eyeballs me between tying his laces. “Looks like you found your game brain.”

Coach said the same earlier today.

I’m trying to not let it go to my head, but I feel different tonight. Like I could fly if I wanted to.

Coach comes in for our final pep talk before the game, then we all pull on our jerseys and line up to hit the ice.

Our entrance song starts when we enter the tunnel. The spotlight’s spinning over the doorway, lights flashing, announcers booming.

Felicity’s out there somewhere. Heard she was pulling a stint in the announcer’s booth with Thrusty tonight.

And Kami should be sitting right next to the home bench.

I knew she was pissed at me when the seats I bought her for our previous games were empty. She and Felicity and Maren and Alina don’t pass up good seats for anything.

Never have.

I lead the pack and stop so everyone can rub my helmet on the way out onto the ice. They file past, and I hit each of my guys with their normal complicated handshake if we have one, which is fucking ridiculous with all our gloves on, but it works. The crowd roars louder with every one of my teammates that skates out onto the ice, and when I join them, it’s pandemonium.

Don’t feel like I deserve their loyalty this year, but I’m fucking grateful for it.

I circle our half of the ice, stick gripped tight, one arm lifted in a wave to the crowd, and then I find what I’m looking for.

There’s Kami, front row, right next to the bench, hollering and cheering with Alina, Muffy, and her aunt.

She’s here.

I’m going to fucking kick ass tonight.

I flip my helmet down and head to my spot at the net, digging in good to get ready for that biscuit to drop. “Hey, Jaeger!” I call.