Unbreakable(68)

Will goes deep into the corner to battle for the puck and, after a few moments of struggling, snatches it away and passes to his center, Decker McCulvey, who’s waiting behind Ottawa’s net.

McCulvey slides the puck around the back of the net and wraps it around the post, slipping it neatly past Ottawa’s goalie, who can’t get over fast enough to stop it with his skate.

The red light goes on, the horn blares, and the crowd rises as one, yelling and pumping their fists.

“Oh my God! Will gets the assist!” I scream, leaping to my feet. “He gets the assist!”

Peyton jumps into the air and pumps her fist, and Violet grabs me around the waist. We jump up and down, screaming and beating on the glass in excitement as Will and his line mates skate over and attack McCulvey with celebratory hugs and fist bumps.

Will’s smile is so big. He looks so happy at this moment that it brings tears to my eyes. I’m so incredibly proud of him. When I hear, “Assisted by number fourteen, Will Maverick” come over the sound system, my tears spill over and flow down my cheeks.

I wish his parents could’ve seen their son tonight. They would have been so proud.

“You’re such a sap,” Peyton says, grinning as I wipe my tears away.

“I can’t help it,” I say, half-laughing, half-crying. “I’m so happy.”

“Are we going to overtime?” Peyton asks, looking up at the clock. “There’s only two minutes left.”

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” I tell her.

But we don’t have to wait very long. With 28 seconds left on the clock, John Breaker seals the Wolverine’s victory with a beautiful wrist shot directly in front of Ottawa’s net.

As the horn blares again and we leap to our feet for the second time, I’m confident we’re getting out of here with a win.

Once play resumes, the last few seconds pass by in a blur. The horn blares a final time, signaling the victory. Fans are on their feet, shouting and showing their love as the Wolverines head down the ice to congratulate their goaltender.

I sink into my seat, exhausted and overwhelmed as the crowd slowly heads up the stairs toward the exit.

Violet reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Now the real celebration can begin. I can’t wait until we can finally see him.”

I manage a nod as Violet and Peyton chatter excitedly to each other about the game.

I’ve given myself a million pep talks over the past 24 hours, telling myself that if Will doesn’t have the same feelings for me as I do for him, it will still all be okay. I’ll find a way to be his friend. I’ll make it work somehow, because I need him in my life.

But deep down, I know that’s a lie. If Will decides he wants nothing more than friendship, my heart will break all over again. It’s already battered and bruised from the drama of the past two months, and I’m not sure how much more it can take.





Chapter Twenty-Nine





WILL




“Good game, boys!”

“Fuckin’ right, that’s the way.”

“That’s how we do it!”

The comments come fast and furious from my teammates as we head back to the locker room after beating Ottawa, 2-1.

The skill of these guys, especially the ones who’ve been playing at this level for years, is really something to behold. For the first few minutes of the game, I needed to consciously remind myself to focus and not freak the f*ck out that I was playing with a few of my hockey heroes.

Despite being nervous as hell during my first shift and not getting a ton of ice time, I made sure to make every minute count. Getting an assist during my first call-up was the icing on the already fan-f*cking-tastic cake. I’m flying so high I’m not sure I’ll ever come down.

John Breaker stops in front of my stall after Coach Valen gives us a short post-game talk.

“Great game tonight, Maverick.”

I can’t hide my grin. “I’m just happy to help out.”

“You did good, kid.” He gives me a nod before walking back over to his stall, where reporters swoop in to get their post-game sound bites.

I still can’t believe this. John Breaker, one of the best players in the entire league, just told me I did a good job. It’s crazy.

A few minutes later, some of the reporters that cover the Smoke want to talk about my assist and my call-up to the Wolverines. I answer a few questions before they move on to one of my teammates.

I hurry through my shower, anxious to get it over with so I can text Emmy. I’m sure she’s still here, along with everyone else. If I know the guys, they’re not going to leave without congratulating me.

When I finish, I make my way to the dressing room. I quickly change into my suit and then grab my phone from my locker and text Emmy.

Me: Are you guys still here?

Emmy: Yep. We’re outside of the players’ parking garage. Do you want to go out for a post-game meal with us? Sully said he’s paying.

I grin down at my phone. If Sully’s dragging out his wallet, then he must really feel bad. I’m going to take full advantage of it too and order the most expensive damn meal on the menu.

Me: Sounds great.

Emmy: Good.

Me: Em?

Emmy: Yes?

Me: Thank you. You made tonight perfect.