Game Changer

by Melissa Cutler

  To his relief, she grinned. “Surfboard and stumpy. What are we—the seven dwarves’ long-lost cousins?”

  “At least we don’t work in the mines like they do.”

  “Always with the silver lining.”

  “It’s a gift. But enough of that.” He walked to her bedroom door and pushed it open all the way. “In you go. The tribe has spoken. You need to get some rest.”

  She trudged toward him with mock-glumness. “Stupid tribe. Bossing me around in my own brick fortress.”

  He grabbed her hand as she brushed by. “Hey.”

  She squeezed his hand back and looked at him expectantly, which was about the time he realized that he had no idea what he’d been planning to say.

  Kiss her.

  No. Not that.

  “Sweet dreams, baby. The world will still be here waiting for you when you wake up.”

  Four hours later, Kayla, Brandon, and Harper arrived at the Iceplex, with Kayla driving. She dropped Brandon and Harper off at the main door before going to find parking.

  Harper walked up the steps gingerly, but didn’t seem to be in pain. “You’re moving pretty good, all things considered.”

  “Are you kidding? Compared to ovarian surgery, this is a walk in the park. The mastectomy didn’t involve any organs or require the surgeons to root around in my body. I was skeptical when I read on a mastectomy support forum that recovery happens fast, especially for those of us who don’t get reconstructive procedures done at the same time, but they were right.”

  By the time he paid the small fee for three tickets, Kayla had joined them. Flanking Harper, they walked inside. He’d been to other hockey games there as a spectator, watching teams that played on different nights of the week than Bomb Squad, but this was his first time sitting in the stands for a Bomb Squad game since his first week in town five years earlier.

  He’d never forget the way it’d felt that first time to watch a team of veterans just like him. Elijah had caught his attention first, skating on a prosthetic leg and operating a customized prosthetic hand to hold his stick. At the time, Brandon had no idea that kind of thing was possible. Before that week, he’d been dragged down by the atmosphere at the VA rehab center near his house, the lack of hope in the disabled vets around him.

  But there on the ice in Destiny Falls was a whole team of soldiers like him, dressed in red, white, and blue jerseys, playing one of the most physically demanding sports in the world like it was nothing. They didn’t let their disabilities slow them down or keep them from living normal lives or from exceeding the ho-hum existence of a normal life. Watching Bomb Squad that first time had felt like coming home.

  Tonight, he and Kayla had timed their arrival as close to the puck drop as possible so Harper didn’t tire out before game play had barely gotten going. Bomb Squad and the Puck Daddies were already lined up on the blue line for the singing on the national anthem by one of the Destiny Falls High School students regularly tapped for the job.

  They moved toward the bleachers behind the scorekeeper’s table where Olivia now sat, the team’s new scorekeeper, and where the rest of Harper’s friends were saving Harper, Kayla, and Brandon seats.

  “Is this strange for you?” Harper asked Brandon.

  “Little bit. Makes me homesick, which is ridiculous because I’ve only been gone for eight days so far.”

  They were nearly to their seats when the Canal Town’s men’s league president approached them. “Brandon, this is unexpected. Great to see you, man.” They shook hands. “What happened with that show you were doing? Did it get canceled?”

  “No, it’s still on. Just visiting Harper for a few days.”

  “Understood, and you’re just the person I came to see, Harper. I got your message earlier today about joining our roster of referees. As soon as you’re well again, you let me know and we’ll get you up to speed on training. We can always use more refs and we’re happy to have you on board. Our first woman ref. It’s a great start. Maybe you’ll inspire others.”

  Harper gave a little fist pump down by her side. “Thank you. I can’t wait.”

  “We’ll probably start you off with the senior league on Tuesday afternoons, if that works for you. Nice and slow, to get your feet wet.”

  “Perfect,” she said. “Thank you again.”

  Brandon rolled his tongue along the inside of his teeth as he battled back a wave of jealousy that all their friends would get to watch her shining moment while he was stuck in Miami. He should be in that senior league crowd, leading the cheer for her.

  After the league president had moved on, off to rub shoulders with another league board member, Brandon draped an arm across Harper’s shoulders. “Another bliss list victory and you’ve only been out of surgery for four days.”

  Her triumphant smile made him forget his train of thought, his jealously, everything. “I’ve got a lot to living to do. There’s no time to waste.”

  Harper’s friends had seen them coming and helped her through the aisle to the front row where a padded bleacher seat waited, tucking a blanket over her legs and fussing and clucking over her like a bunch of hens. Though Brandon appreciated them going the extra mile to make sure Harper was comfortable, he still cringed inwardly; Harper hated being fussed over like she was helpless. Props to her, though, because she endured it well, with only a brief protest or two.

  It wasn’t long before the Bomb Squad players noticed Harper in the stands. After the national anthem, when the teams were skating one last warm-up, they slowed in front of the scorekeeper’s table, remarking about how great Harper looked and thanking her for being there. She beamed, sitting taller with each compliment.

  When the buzzer sounded and Theo skated to center ice to take the first puck drop of the game, Harper tried to clap once. “Ow. Won’t be doing that again anytime soon.”

  “I’ll cheer for both of us,” Kayla said.

  Brandon snorted. “Just don’t do the bouncy thing again.”

  Kayla didn’t seem to have heard him, but Harper rewarded him with a withering look that would have leveled a lesser man.

  The Puck Daddies were a well-oiled machine, but Bomb Squad brought their A game that night. Though the Daddies won the first face-off, their offense was no match for Liam, Will, and Elijah. After Liam deflected a weak shot on goal, he fed the puck to Will, who muscled through two defensemen. It was obvious to Brandon that Will’s singular focus was on getting the puck to Theo and Nathan at the crease, which was why he didn’t see number forty-seven on the Puck Daddies coming at him hard from the side.

  Will and number forty-seven tussled against the boards for control of the puck. Will kicked the puck out from the wall and lunged forward in pursuit, but forty-seven grabbed his jersey. Will turned, cursing, which was when the Puck Daddies player’s elbow flew up and smacked Will in the nose.

  A whistle stopped game play. Brandon fully expected Will to ignore the whistle and retaliate, seeing as how his nose was a bloody mess, but he skated to the bench instead and took the towel that Duke offered him. Good on him. Maybe Will’s trigger temper was fading. One could hope.

  Kayla stood, angling for a better view of the team bench, concern etched on her face. “Do you think he’s okay?”

  “Not sure,” Harper said. “He didn’t fight back.”

  A holding penalty was issued for the Puck Daddies player and he took a seat in the penalty box. Bomb Squad’s best players poured through the team bench’s door and onto the ice.

  Will stood, the towel nowhere to be seen. He had blood in his beard and on his lips, but he was smiling. “This power play’s for Harper!” he bellowed from the bench. “Get ’er done, Squad. Break this game open!”

  Nice job, Will. Fighting would’ve sent him to the penalty box, too, but he held back for Harper. Brandon had never been so proud of his friend. When Will sat again, Brandon flashed hi
m a thumbs-up from across the rink, which Will acknowledged with a nod.

  It took only twenty-one seconds of the power play for Theo to get the puck, pass it to Nathan, who set up a perfect shot for Theo, who then slapped it into the upper left corner of the net. The whole arena shot to their feet, cheering. Kayla bounced, but she wasn’t the only one, and the guys on the team were too busy with their own celebrating to notice. Even Harper rose.

  “Sit the hell down, surfboard,” Brandon told her.

  “But that was great hockey.” Still, she did as he said.

  Brandon retrieved the blanket that had fallen to the floor and wrapped it around her legs again, tucking it in against her thighs.

  “You’d better be careful,” she said, a tired smile on her lips. “If word starts to spread about how sweet you are underneath all those muscles, you’re going to have women falling all over you.” She rolled her eyes in mock-dramatic fashion. “Oh, wait, you already do.”

  He tweaked her nose. “You’re such a dork.”

  “Oh, now, stop it with all the compliments. You’re making me blush.”

  Chuckling, he put his arm around her and settled in to watch the game.

  Bomb Squad’s momentum continued. They contained most of the action in front of the Daddies’ net, racking up thirteen shots-on-goal, most of them quality, with the score two- to nothing after fifteen minutes of play. It was the oddest thing, being in the stands like that, watching his team from the bleachers. More surreal than he’d anticipated. He kept thinking about what he’d have done if he’d been on the ice—the passes he would’ve made, the shots he would’ve taken, and the plays he would’ve called as the team captain.

  As play wore on, Harper’s slump became noticeable. She rested against Brandon and her eyelids looked heavier and heavier, though her sharp eyes continued to track the game. With a minute of game play left in the first period and Bomb Squad on yet another power play, the people around them stood to cheer. Brandon and Harper stayed put. If anything, she burrowed more deeply against him.

  Careful not to jostle her, he pulled his phone out to do some covert communication with Kayla via text messages so they could gang up on Harper about leaving in case she turned stubborn and refused to acknowledge her fatigue, which he had a feeling she’d try and pull, knowing her.

  H is getting tired. Take her home soon? he texted.

  While he waited for Kayla to notice the text and reply, he saw another message sitting on his phone, one he hadn’t heard given the racket of the game.

  Hi Brandon. U remember me? Lindsay the nurse from Lockport Memorial Hosp.

  Brandon must have made some noise of surprise because Harper roused. “What’s up?”

  “I got a text from that nightshift nurse who helped you at the hospital. Lindsay. I wonder how she got my number.”

  Harper used his chest to push herself upright. “I gave it to her. She seemed into you.”

  Huh? He blinked down at the message. What a bizarre thing to do. It wasn’t Harper’s right to give his number out like that to another woman. They might be friends, but not those kinds of friends.

  “I was trying to thank you for all you’ve done for me by hooking you up with a cute nurse. I was being your wingman,” Harper said. “I figured you deserve one last roll in the hay before the paparazzi start trailing you everywhere and making sure you abide by your celibacy clause.”

  “That’s kind of sweet in a warped way.” But if he were interested in getting his rocks off before he was announced as the next groom, then he’d wait until he got back to Miami instead of flaunting his sexual exploits in Harper’s face, like he’d done for so many years. He understood now that he’d done that to punish her for rejecting him. The more she’d derided him for sleeping around, the more he’d rubbed it in her face until they’d gotten locked in a vicious cycle of insult and injury. What a fucked-up way to live.

  “I thought you and I were striving for a more healthy relationship these days. I’m pretty sure that doesn’t involve you arranging hookups for me.”

  Another chime with an incoming text, this one from Kayla. Got it. I’m ready.

  “This is healthy,” Harper said. “I set my other friends up on dates when I meet someone I think they’d be interested in.”

  It was going to take him some time to wrap his brain around this one. “So it wouldn’t bother you if I spent my last night in town with Lindsay?”

  “It would bother me if you didn’t. It’s not like I’m going to be up for hanging out after the game. I’m pretty wiped out. Besides, I worked hard to arrange this hookup for you. I’m just glad Lindsay finally came to her senses and contacted you. I mean, I played the American hero card and everything.”

  Geez, this might rank as one the strangest conversations he’d ever had, right below the conversation he and Harper had had after sex. But a hook-up with Lindsay seemed important to Harper, so he decided to humor her until he figured out what he wanted to do. “In that case, I’m surprised it took her so long to contact me, too. The American hero card is my ace in the hole.”

  When the buzzer sounded, ending the period, Kayla stood and stretched. “Okay, champ, you’re looking tired. Ready to go?”

  Harper frowned. “The game’s barely getting going and it looks like it’s going to be a great one. You should stay here. Both of you. I’ll find a ride or grab a cab.”

  Kayla met Brandon’s gaze over Harper’s head and gave him an oh-please look. To Harper, she said, “If I don’t take you home, then Brandon will insist because he’s a gentleman. Since I’m sure you want him to stay here and enjoy the game, then there’s no sense in arguing with me. But,” she shrugged, “the choice is yours.”

  Go, Kayla.

  Harper grinned affectionately at her. “You’re a bossy little thing, aren’t you?”

  Kayla twirled Harper’s car keys. “Runs in my family.”

  Harper turned her attention to Brandon. “You’re going to stay and watch the rest of the game, right? And then do that thing we talked about, I hope.” She darted her eyes to his phone.

  It was too hard to think clearly about hooking up with another women while talking to Harper, so he wasn’t going to make any promises he wasn’t sure he wanted to keep. “I’ll text her back.”

  Which was true, no matter how he decided to handle the situation.

  Harper gave him a weak, one-armed hug. “Have fun. And if you hitch a ride to Locks, then you can take my car to see her. You still have a set of my car keys, right?”

  Next she’d be slipping a condom into his pocket, she was working so hard to make this happen. “Yeah. Got ’em.”

  With Brandon’s help, she rose and straightened up. “Good. Okay. I’ll see you in the morning. My plan is to ride with Theo and you tomorrow to the airport. I wish I could drive you myself, but I don’t think that’s the wisest plan.”

  “Definitely not.”

  She turned to her other friends and said her good-byes, then ruffled Brandon’s hair like he was her kid brother. “Have a great night, Brandon.”

  Brandon stayed and watched the rest of the game, but his heart wasn’t in it, despite the thumping that Bomb Squad was issuing to the Puck Daddies. He texted Lindsay back, not shutting her down but not leading her on either. Really, he couldn’t decide what to do. He thought he’d be able to think more clearly after Harper left, but he was still baffled. A month earlier, he would’ve hooked up with Lindsay without thinking twice. He loved casual sex—didn’t he? But the thought of it didn’t light a fire inside him tonight. Rather, he wanted to go to Locks after the game and hang out with his buddies, then look in on Harper.

  In the end, he hitched a ride to Locks with Gabe.

  “You’re doing great as the team captain,” Brandon said.

  “Thanks. I like it. You’re missed for sure, but I’m having fun with the job.”

&n
bsp; Gabe’s car had all kinds of modifications to accommodate his missing right arm—which had been removed at the shoulder, not leaving enough arm to support a prosthesis—and the limited mobility of the tricked out, technological marvel of a prosthesis he wore on his left arm. A push start and a gear shifter on the left side of the dash, a special knob on the steering wheel for him to grip, and an automatic seat belt with a lap belt extension for easier access—and those were just the modifications that Brandon could see. Brandon and Gabe had known each other for a long time, yet it still amazed Brandon how Gabe fearlessly adapted to every environment. He’d never forget what a huge influence Gabe had been in those early years on Brandon’s recovery and attitude.

  Locks was packed. Brandon paused outside the door, his eyes on the bricks. Coming back to this place, Harper’s brick fortress, was comforting, anchoring in its familiarity and sturdiness. Why hadn’t he been able to recognize that before?

  In the absence of any family, she’d created this warm, welcoming, unflappable haven, not only for herself, but for everyone around her. And she made it out of nothing but a dream and the ashes of her grief after burying both her parents. She’d adapted to her situation in a way that wasn’t so different from Gabe’s ability to adapt. Both were remarkable people who’d overcome so many odds.

  Being back made him feel homesick, which was something he hadn’t known he was capable of feeling. Certainly, he’d never felt that way about Hartford, not even when he returned to Connecticut to visit his folks, who still lived in the home he’d grown up in.

  He texted Lindsay from the parking lot. Hey, it’s not going to work out tonight. I’m going to turn in early.

  He walked through Locks, chatting with his teammates and their girlfriends and wives. When he found Will, he told him how much that first power play goal had meant to Harper, and Will caught him up to speed on the bar, since he’d been there almost every evening to keep an eye on the place. The biker punks hadn’t been back. In fact, there hadn’t been any trouble at all. No cars stolen, nothing. The place was doing a brisk business and the new manager, Susan, was settling in great.