by Lynn Rush
The thawck of the net told me I had missed.
I banged my gloves on the ice. “Damnit!”
“Come on, Ice Capades, get your head in the game.” Nathaniel winked as he skated by me.
The ice usually calmed me. Centered me. But today, it left me feeling jittery and uncertain. Brodie had voted yes to allowing me back on the team, but we’d broken from the meeting and I hadn’t been able to get him alone before the game. I wanted to talk with him one-on-one, to see if he’d truly accepted my apology and understood I was asking for more than just his forgiveness.
I knew I’d made the right choice leaving Miami, but it was hard not to let the nagging voice of doubt in the back of my head break through: You’ll never make it as a hockey player. You’ll never get into a college. You should have stayed in Miami.
The puck shot down the ice. Preach attempted to sling one in the other goalie’s five-hole.
It ricocheted off his glove and landed right in front of Brodie.
In a split second, he brought his stick back and slapped a shot right over the goalie’s right shoulder.
The crowd erupted into cheers that people back in Woodhaven could probably hear. Relief swept over me. We were finally back in the lead with under a minute to go.
Stay focused.
I knelt and put my palm to the ice.
Eyes closed, I counted back from three, focusing on calming my heart.
Once my eyes opened, the rink appeared crisper.
Side to side, I moved, loosening up and preparing for the Bulldogs to attack. They wouldn’t go out without a fight, but neither would we.
A quick fake out let the Bulldogs’ forwards break away from Pax and Teddy.
Both guys dipped their heads down and chased after the Bulldogs’ offensive line.
The left wing tried to catch me off guard by taking a shot from more than fifty feet away.
I caught it in my blocker and checked the clock.
“Denied,” Teddy shouted.
Hell yeah, I knocked that down. “Yes! Come on, guys! We got this!”
It took nearly the entire game, but I finally felt like I’d found my rhythm.
The team, me included, had been struggling on the ice all night. It was almost like we’d only just played a game or two together before we’d gotten here. We were making mistakes that had cost goals and possibly the game.
Another shot came whizzing at me. I snatched the puck out of the air, then dropped it in for Preach.
“There you go, Willow! That’s our goalie,” he said, giving me a nod.
As the guys skated down the rink, Preach passed to Nathaniel. He brought back his stick and slapped the puck. It bounced off the top of the goal.
“Good try, guys,” I shouted.
Almost there!
“Ten, nine, eight,” the crowd counted down the remaining seconds left in the game.
Brodie and Nathaniel continued to attack the other team’s net. The goalie blocked Nathaniel’s shot but failed to scoop it into his catcher. With the puck loose on the ice, I could practically feel the panic emanating from the other goalie.
Scrambling to get back into his defensive stance, the guy was too slow. With the flick of his wrist, Brodie shot the puck above the goalie’s left shoulder. As the buzzer sounded, the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. They chanted Brodie’s name as he lifted his arms into the air, celebrating our three-to-one win. Hats from around the rink slid across the ice, acknowledging his hat trick. A few stuffed animals and roses made their way onto the ice as well.
State Championship, here we come!
Even though Brodie and I weren’t together, I was proud of him. With all the drama going on in his life, he deserved a great game. There were loads of scouts and coaches in the stands watching a number of the guys playing this weekend, but a solid performance at State would all but guarantee Brodie a scholarship. I heard he even had a meeting with Coach Raymond from Boston College lined up. Rumor was he was going to land a scholarship. Which, like me, would be the only way he’d be able to afford going to college. His dad had not only lost all his money, he’d cleaned out Brodie and Caleb’s college accounts as well.
The scored goal replayed in my mind.
The game had been too close for comfort.
We were disjointed.
If it hadn’t been for Brodie’s and Preach’s goals, we would have been screwed. As in, booted from the State tournament in the first round and completely missing out on having scouts watch our games.
…
“Can we talk?” I asked as Brodie stepped off the bus.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
I knew without checking that it was either Jessa or Ericka. I’d been texting with them on the bus, trying to work up the courage to do this.
He slouched and stepped forward as if he was going to walk right by me, but he said, “After. Right now, it’s time for our postgame grub.”
Preach stepped off the bus next and glanced at me, then to Brodie. “Look. Give me your stuff. Go talk. Figure it out.” He eased my bag off my shoulder, and Brodie handed him his. “I’ll save you a seat, but I can’t promise Teddy isn’t going to eat all the food in the buffet.”
Brodie nodded and I chuckled, then Preach grinned and strode away, leaving us alone. “Let’s walk,” I said.
Silently, he followed me as we strolled around the side of the hotel. I pointed to a little patio I could barely make out in the darkness, and we made our way there. The silence was heavy, laden with questions, anger, and whatever else was going on. Hopefully one of those things was love. Because I loved him, and he needed to know it.
“I’m sorry, Brodie. I really am.”
“I know you are.” He offered me a slight smile but then looked down at his feet again, and his shoulders were slumped.
“But…” I sat down on the bench and let out a sigh. “I hurt you.”
He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and remained standing. “Everything just got so fucked up.”
“It’s showing on the ice. We almost lost tonight.”
“Well, you’ve been gone for almost two months.” He faced skyward, and I saw a white plume of air slowly release from his mouth. “I’m sorry. That was a dick thing to say. We all sucked out there.”
“It was ugly.” I pulled my hat down more to chase away the chill settling in over us. It wasn’t just from the weather, either. “There’s no chance for us, is there?”
He shifted to face me, then sat down, keeping a few inches between us. All I wanted to do was curl up under his warm arm and breathe in his sweet, woodsy scent.
“Because I love you, Brodie. I really do.”
“What if you leave again? What if another training team approaches you? And—”
“I won’t, Brodie. You have to understand, though, that I needed to go to Miami to find that out. If I would have stayed because of you, I could have really ended up hating you. Wondering, what if?” My heart started hammering. “And that wouldn’t be fair to you or me.”
“You’re right.” His head hung low, and his shoulders curved forward. “God, I missed you, Willow.”
My heart stung, like a knife had pierced it. “I missed you, too. So much.”
He finally looked at me. His brown eyes, in this dim light, were dark, almost black. The distant lights from the hotel didn’t do much to eat away at the dark void out here, but I caught a hint of a smile curving the corner of his mouth.
“That speech…in front of the guys and Coach.” He shook his head. “That took balls, Willow.”
“I was shaking in my hockey skates.” I nudged his shoulder. “But I meant every word. I really am sorry. For everything. I just hope you can forgive me.”
“I can,” he said, his voice a whisper.
My heart stopped for a beat or
two, then kicked into high gear. “You can?”
He nodded. “I mean, I’ll be going away to Boston College in the fall…to play hockey for them.” His grin widened as he grabbed my hand. “But until then—”
“Wait, what?” I turned more to him.
“Talked with Coach Raymond. They offered me a full ride.” Tears lined his eyes.
I threw my arms around him and squeezed. “Brodie. Oh my gosh! That’s amazing!” I leaned back and looked into his eyes.
He pressed his cool lips to mine as he held me close. A flash of heat stormed through me, and it didn’t take more than a few seconds, kissing Brodie, to warm up my body. Tilting my head, he took the kiss deeper as he got reacquainted with my mouth.
It felt like home, being in his arms right then and there.
I didn’t care if he was leaving for Boston in the fall; we’d make this work. After what we worked through, nothing would break that up.
He eased back, keeping his cold nose to mine. A flash of light ignited beside us, and we both turned.
Flood lights kicked on, bouncing their illumination off a massive ice sculpture of a hockey player, taking a slap shot.
Brodie chuckled.
“What?” I kissed him again, then nuzzled his neck so I could inhale more of his scent.
“Hockey. Brought us together, then we broke up. And now it’s brought us back together.” He cupped my cheeks and tilted my head as he gazed at me. “I love you, Willow Covington.”
Tears streamed down my face as I closed my eyes, basking in the three words. They warmed my chest and felt like a blanket wrapping around me. “I love you, too.”
Brodie stood up and offered me his hand. “Let’s get back to our team.”
CHAPTER
FIFTY
Brodie
“I’m shutting you down, Right Hand of God,” I yelled, pointing my stick at Roger.
“Nice one.” Preach tackled me into the boards, slapping at my helmet.
I’d just scored, tying the game up at one.
One minute left on the clock.
Sixty freaking seconds to score one more goal and become repeat State Champions.
One.
More.
Minute.
The crowd screamed so loudly, I could barely hear anything else.
Except Coach. There was no missing his voice. “Focus. Get back into formation. Pressure. Pressure. Pressure.”
He barked a few more orders to Pax and Teddy.
Stay focused, Brodie.
Willow slapped her stick, and I pointed at her.
“Defense,” she yelled. “Keep it going.”
She’d really shown up in a huge way. First on that Friday appearance, then after we’d nearly lost on Friday, pulling me aside. That girl, she was so strong. Tackled things head on. And I was thankful for that because I knew I was a stubborn guy. I’d almost lost her because of it.
But now that we were back together, and the team was on board with everything, we were truly a team now. Everything was out in the open and we were dealing.
Nathaniel met in the center for the drop. The ref regarded each of them and then dropped the puck. It hit the ice, and Nathaniel slapped it to me.
I dipped and deked, keeping the puck close. I needed to run down the clock.
Then Roger, the Right Hand of God, charged me. I could almost see the fury in his eyes. Willow had stopped all fifteen of his shots. His right winger was the only one who’d gotten one past her. I knew how hungry he was to get one by Willow. To tie us. Force us into extra time or, even worse, a shootout.
They were damn near unstoppable in shootout situations.
“You’re going down, asshole.” He dipped his shoulder to ram into me.
I braked, spun, and lifted the puck over his stick, then flipped it to Preach. A quick spin had me in the open, and I went up the left side.
Moving past their defenders, Preach did his dance.
Roger cut him off, swiping his feet, and Preach fell hard. I lunged for the puck, took it with me when I turned, then pulled back for another shot.
Let’s make this the game winner!
Out of nowhere, a shoulder rammed into my side. Right below the rib protectors.
The crowd groaned—even louder than I had.
The air burst from my lungs and my head snapped back. Lightning struck through my mind, but I rolled, punching whoever had taken me down in the chest.
It was enough to get him off me, and I was on my skates again. Gasping.
Where was that puck? I checked the clock.
Thirty seconds.
“Breakaway,” someone yelled.
Shit, break—
The Right Hand of God attacked our zone, skating faster than one of his slap shots.
And no one was near him.
Willow stiffened, her knees bent. I charged, the last of my energy powering through my quads. The ice scraped beneath my blades as I sped toward Roger. No way was he going to score on us.
I’d get to him.
Or Willow would block it. I had to trust her.
The deafening crowd faded. Everything around me vanished as I zeroed in on the puck. My lungs burned. Sweat chilled my back.
Five feet.
I pushed harder.
Three feet.
Almost to him.
He took his swing. The slap of his stick hitting the puck vibrated through my bones. His signature sound for how hard he smacked that thing.
It was aimed for just above Willow’s shoulder. The same spot he’d scored on her last time they’d faced off.
Oh shit.
Willow’s glove shot up.
The clap of the puck hitting her leather pocket echoed through the arena. She snapped the mitt shut. She’d done it. She’d blocked his shot!
Roger bellowed and kept charging.
“Willow!” Pax yelled as he checked Roger out of the way. “Here!”
She dropped the puck onto the ice and passed it to him. He swerved around the goal, then blasted toward me. I tapped the ice. He flipped it to me. I spun, taking the puck with me.
Fifteen seconds!
Cheers radiated through the air.
Focus.
I deked and weaved. Blasted down the ice. I flipped it to Preach, then he found me down the ice.
“Go! Brodie! Go!” I heard Willow’s voice above everything. Only her voice could register with me right now. It was like the sound fueled my tired legs. My burning lungs.
My heart exploded as I pushed forward.
Five!
“Come on, Brodie!” someone yelled.
Four!
I spun, taking the puck with me.
Three!
My lungs burned.
Two!
I pulled my stick back and slapped that puck with everything I had.
The black disc flew through the air. A blunt force rammed into my shoulder, but I stayed focused on the puck as I landed on the ice.
It was on target.
The goalie’s glove reached out to bat it down.
He missed.
The puck smacked against the net.
Buzz!
I pushed off the boards and hopped to my skates.
We’d won.
We’d won State.
We were State Champions again.
The crowd went nuts, throwing crap onto the ice.
Goose bumps puckered my arms and prickled my neck as I skated to the middle of the rink. I ripped off my helmet and tossed it into the air along with the rest of the team. Tears stung. My throat tightened.
We’d done it.
We’d won.
Despite all the shit happening around us, we’d done it.
I raced toward Willow and wa
s the first one to make it to her. I tackled her to the ice. Her laughter filled the air. Preach landed on us next. After that, I couldn’t tell who was next; I only felt the weight building.
I pressed my hands against the ice to try and block some of the weight from Willow. This close, I could clearly see her.
Tears flowed.
A smile filled her face.
She was laughing.
“We did it, Brodie,” she yelled.
“Sure as shit did.”
“Hand of God my ass,” Pax yelled. “That guy had nothing on you, Willow!”
Pax of all people, cheering for Willow. I never thought I’d see the day. She squeezed her eyes shut and screamed as loud as I’d ever heard her.
The weight atop us lessened, and I shifted slightly. Her eyes popped open, and her smile widened.
I grabbed her mask and pulled her head up off the ice slightly so she could see me, and I could rest my head against her mask. “I love you, Willow Covington. I love you!”
She froze. Her eyes wide. “I love you, Brodie Windom!”
Someone grabbed me by the back of my jersey, pads and all, and yanked me off her. And then I was airborne, hands poking into my back.
I lifted my legs so I wouldn’t slice anyone with my skates, and then I was thrust atop Nathaniel, Pax, and Preach’s shoulders.
Willow squealed.
Teddy, Josiah, and Trevor had hoisted her up on their shoulders, and they were skating toward me.
“Willow,” I yelled, reaching for her.
“Wahoo!” she screamed, punching the air with her fists. “We did it. Wolverines forever!”
We all collided and made a mess of people, but our teammates held us both up, still.
“Okay,” Preach yelled to me. “Now you two can date.”
EPILOGUE
Five Days Later
Brodie
“I so needed this alone time before the party!” Willow leaned into me as we skated around Jackson Pond.
No training.
No hockey vocab testing.
No slap shots.
Just me and her, leisurely skating around Jackson Pond, and not at all worried who might see us. We were free to date. Free to be together.
And we were.