My mind was wholly focused on being ready for that first puck drop during the three minutes we got to warm up before the game. I was shooting pucks at the net from the blue line about halfway through the time when Chuck skated over and tapped my shin pads with his stick. “Heads-up, dude.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. “What?”
He jerked his chin toward the penalty box. “There’s someone in the stands I’m willing to bet came just to watch you play.”
I glanced up, expecting to see one of the college recruiters, and I almost tripped over my own skates when I spotted Emmeline sitting in the row directly behind the box. That would’ve been embarrassing, but I was so happy to see her there that I didn't care. “Holy shit, I didn’t think she was going to show.”
“She did better than that. She brought you a little cheering section.” He tapped my shin guards again and grinned.
I had been so fixated on Emmeline that I hadn’t noticed her two friends sitting on either side of her. The three girls were all dressed in red Black Mountain Academy sweatshirts, and Emmeline had her dark brown hair pulled up in a ponytail with a matching red hair band. One of her friends pointed in my direction, and Emmeline looked so fucking cute as she gave me a little wave.
“Judging by that shit-eating grin on your face, I guess I don’t need to wait and see anymore.”
I tore my gaze away from Emmeline to look at Chuck, confused by what he meant. “Huh?”
“That day in the cafeteria, you said I’d have to wait and see what happened.” He gestured to where Emmeline sat as the buzzer went off. “And there you go. She showed up to watch you when she’s never been to one of our games before. For a girl like Emmeline, that’s a pretty bold move. The next one is yours, man.”
“Damn straight,” I agreed as we skated toward the bench to listen to what Coach Carter had to say before we lined up for the puck drop. I’d waited almost a full month without acting on my attraction. All that time had used up my patience, and something had become clear—my interest in Emmeline wasn’t going anywhere. It had only grown stronger, and not doing anything about my growing feelings for her had to be just as distracting as trying for a relationship. I was going to take her showing up at my game as the green light to finally take action.
“You should score a goal in the first minute,” he suggested. “That would be a great way to impress her, and it would make a big statement to the Vikings.”
I’d faced our opponents several times before, so they were already familiar with my game play. Odds were good their defense would be all over me, so scoring right off the bat would fuck with their heads. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
“What does?” Dean asked.
Since Chuck wasn’t on the first line with me, he stepped into our bench area as he answered, “Corby is going to drill the puck into the back of their net in the first minute of the game.”
“That totally works for me,” Scott chimed in as he finished stretching and got up off the ice to stand next to me. “The more you have the puck down there, the less often the Vikings will be able to send it flying in my direction.”
“If you guys are done shooting the shit, I’d like to give you the actual game plan.” All the chatter stopped, and we gave Coach Carter our full attention. Then he grinned and pointed at me. “It’s going to sound awfully familiar since my strategy is similar to what you two apparently came up with during warmups. If you see an opening, take it. Their goalie won’t be prepared for the extra power you’ve developed behind your shot. I’d like to rattle him as early as possible.” He shifted his gaze toward Dean and Simon, the other two guys on the offensive line with me. “The second you see Corby gearing up to take a shot, crash the net. One of this guy’s biggest weaknesses is how long it takes him to cover the puck. Take advantage of his vulnerability and get those rebound shots.”
One of the linesmen blew the whistle, and Scott headed to our net. Dean, Simon, and I skated to center ice, and the two first line defenders, Kyle and Brodie, took their spots behind us. I faced off against the Vikings center, my legs bent at the knees and my stick on the ice while we waited for the ref to verify the goalies were ready to go. My body braced for action when he said, “Have a good game, gentlemen.”
When he blew the whistle and dropped the puck between our sticks, I didn’t give it a chance to hit the ice. Instead, I lifted my stick and sent the puck flying behind me toward Kyle. Then I darted around the Viking’s center and swiveled around to see who had possession of the puck. Kyle must’ve popped it over to Brodie because he was carrying it up the boards to my right. When our gazes met, he sent the puck up to me. Catching it on the blade of my stick, I raced into the Vikings’ side of the ice. Dean followed me over the blue line in a two-on-one against the Vikings defender. When he jabbed his stick at the puck, trying to poke check it away from me, I passed to Dean. Nothing was between him and the net except for the goalie, and he fired off a shot while I hustled around the defender.
Their goalie blocked the shot, but Coach Carter had been right about him not being quick when it came to covering the puck. I was close enough to reach out with my stick and scoop the puck back toward me. Without giving the goalie a chance to get back onto his skates—or the defender right behind me to shove me out of the crease—I flicked the puck toward the net. Time seemed to go in slow motion as I watched it flip through the air, bounce off the goalie’s shoulder pads, and land in the net behind him.
“Fuck yeah,” I roared as Dean slapped me on the back. The rest of the guys on the ice, except for Scott, skated over to congratulate me on the goal. One of the Vikings made a pissy comment about me being a sellout, as though that was a fucking insult. Before I skated past him, I muttered, “It’s gonna suck to be you tonight, man. Because this sellout is going to drill the puck into the net over and over again until you start to wonder if you should quit your team and strap on a pair of figure skates instead.”
My grin was even bigger as I headed over to our bench. I was already riding high from my goal—and knowing that Emmeline showed up for me. Hockey players mouthed off to each other all the time to try to get into each other’s heads, but trash talk aimed my way tended to amp me up.
Chuck glided over to me, slapping me on the back. “I was fucking around about the whole score in the first minute thing, but damn if you didn’t take me seriously.”
A quick look at the scoreboard confirmed that only fifty-nine seconds had come off the game clock since the puck dropped. “Maybe you should try to put up another point in the next minute.”
“I’m no Corby King, but I’ll do my best.” He grinned at me as I stepped into the bench area. “But I don’t have the same motivation sitting in the stands. Can I borrow yours?”
I knew he was joking, but I still saw red. “Only if you want me to kick your ass.”
“Save it for the other team,” Coach Carter barked, clapping me on the back.
I grabbed a water bottle and gulped some of the cool liquid down. Glancing over my shoulder toward the stands behind the penalty box, I gestured toward the scoreboard before pointing at Emmeline. Her plump lips parted on a gasp, and her two friends bounced up and down in their seats with huge grins on their faces. Chuckling, I turned and watched the second and third lines do their thing until it was my turn to take the ice again. For all his big talk, Chuck didn’t manage to get the puck into the net during his shift, but the Vikings scored while he was sitting next to me on the bench.