The long drag of the buzzer sounding was music to my ears.
The home crowd in Tampa went wild, blue and white towels being waved overhead in a battle cry as I was tackled from all angles by my teammates. We celebrated the goal, one Carter had assisted me in, with a cheeky dance to the roar of the stadium. It was a mixture of applause and laughter, and even the referees smiled while shaking their heads and giving us the look that said we’d better wrap it up and get ready for the next play to start.
We were up three to zero with less than eight minutes left to play.
One of the wingers for the opposing team knocked me hard in the shoulder as I passed him, and I turned with the hit, smiling as I skated up next to him.
“Oh, are you the tough guy?” I chirped. Then I pointed my stick at him and called out to Jaxson. “Watch out, this one’s the tough guy.”
“Fuck off, Pigeon,” he spat.
“This pigeon is shitting all over your goalie,” I reminded him. “Like he’s a bench seat in Central Park.”
He shoved me hard, which just made me laugh as I skated backward toward the bench. I took off my glove and wiggled my fingers at him in a wave that made him grit his teeth.
“Alright, Tanev. That’s enough,” Coach warned when I was close enough to hear him. But I saw his grin. “Save the fights for when we need them.”
I jumped the boards and took a seat on the bench, graciously accepting water from one of our trainers as I tried to catch my breath. The puck was dropped, and my focus zeroed in on my teammates.
But I felt Maven where she stood in the tunnel like a current of electricity buzzing through my veins.
The last week with her had tilted my world on its axis. And where she’d been like a thorn in my side that first game in Boston, she’d been more like a soothing balm today, quietly observing me while I got ready to play.
We’d spent my entire day off together on Sunday, and then she’d followed me all yesterday, too, during practice and film and everything in-between. The frost she’d iced me out with in the beginning was thawing now, and she talked to me, laughed with me, and let me peel back a little layer to see more of who the girl was beneath it.
She was a walking contradiction, Maven King — simultaneously a fascinating, generous, free-spirited hippy, and also a closed-off, teeth-bared in warning brat. It was so far from what I was used to when it came to women, I couldn’t help but be enamored by it, by her.
And whether I chose it or not, she was now a part of my routine.
The corner of my mouth twitched up when I recalled her standing in my doorway when it was time to head to the stadium earlier. She’d leaned a hip against the frame, the white pencil skirt she wore hugging her slight curves, and the midnight blue top she wore with it cinching her slim waist. Her hair framed her face in a curly halo, and her glossy lips had spread into a smile as she watched me grab my bag and head for the door.
She didn’t move once I reached it.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you pass,” she’d said, tilting her head a bit. “Not until we fight.”
It was a tease, a reference to the game before, and I’d folded my arms over my chest and sized her up. “What do you want to fight about?”
“Dealer’s choice.”
“Hm…” I’d said, tapping my chin in thought. “I need to figure out a way to piss you off.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard for you.”
I’d smirked at that, and then, I’d dropped my bag to the floor and dug my fingertips into her sides, tickling her mercilessly.
I smiled wider remembering the squealing peals of laughter that she’d let loose, how she had tears coming out of her eyes as she tried to break free from me. In her attempt, her body had been completely pressed into mine, and I’d felt the weight of her slight frame in my arms, had inhaled her scent — lemon and vanilla, like a refreshing dessert I was more than curious to taste.
She was breathless by the time I’d finally relented, and as soon as she had her breath back, she’d socked me right in the gut.
I’d doubled over with an oof, but had laughed all the same.
“You’re such a prick,” she’d yelled. “I couldn’t breathe!”
“Is it time to kiss and make up now?”
She’d sucked her teeth at that, turning on her heels that matched her blouse before strutting down the hall like a model.
And I’d spent the last few hours trying to stay focused on the game, and not on how it had felt to have my hands on her.
I blinked back to the present just in time to hop the boards and skate out onto the ice with my line. We played hard, not letting up even when the score told us we could. We wanted this team and the rest in our conference to hear our message loud and clear.
Tampa is the team to beat, and we won’t make it easy to do so.
Sweat dripped into my eyes as the last buzzer sounded, and the crowd cheered so loud the stadium shook with the sound of it. Then, a flurry of stuffed animal fishes of all kinds rained down on us.
We had to watch where we were skating to dodge the toys as we took our victory laps, but none of us minded. It was tradition, one that had been around for decades. The fish were a sacrifice to the Osprey, our mascot. When the tradition started, they had thrown actual fish. Of course, that had been a smelly, disgusting, and rather inhumane practice that quickly turned into what it was now. A rainbow of color filled the ice just like a hat trick did, and at the end of it all, every toy would be donated to local shelters and families in need.
We took our time on our victory lap, and not a single fan moved from their seats as we went back into the locker room. Minutes later, the three stars of the team were announced.
I was one of them.
I skated a lap with the lights flashing and the crowd chanting my name, and I searched for a kid to give my puck to. When I spotted a familiar face by the glass at center ice, I grinned.
The Machine.
I skated over to him, and he jumped up and down more excitedly when he realized I’d spotted him. He tugged on his mom’s jersey, and she only laughed and thanked me with a sweet smile and tilt of her head.
Instead of tossing the puck up over the glass like I usually did, I nodded toward security and motioned for them to find a way to get him on the ice. When they did, I pulled him up onto my shoulders, handing him the puck and letting him celebrate like the victory was his as we skated another lap with the other stars.
When the celebrations were done, I bent to let him down and rejoin his family, and I turned to find Maven watching me from the bench. I cocked a brow, silently asking what she thought.
She smiled, something light and soft about her for just a moment. But then, she scrunched her face up and waved her flat palm side to side, as if to say, Meh, it was alright.
I scrubbed a hand over my smile at that.
Back in the locker room, the celebrations continued, my teammates stripping their clothes off and chugging beer as the DJ played our win song loudly through the speakers.
“Great job out there,” Coach McCabe said when we were all gathered. “It was a rough first period, but you found your groove in the second, and if we keep playing like that, we’ll have the trophy in our hands by the end of the season.”
We roared our agreement.
“Have fun tonight, but be smart,” he warned. His expression was severe for only a moment before he grinned, and we all cheered and whistled as he shook his head and left us be.
He knew as well as we did that tonight was going to be lit as fuck.
“Let’s fucking party!” Jaxson belted out once Coach had ducked out of the room, and the team responded by beating on the lockers and dancing as if we’d already won the championship.
I joined in, grabbing my jersey at opposite ends and threading it between my legs as I thrust my hips in a ridiculous dance. I whipped it overhead like a helicopter next before sending it flying into the team laundry basket.
It soared right by Maven’s head on the way, and she caught the whole thing on camera.
I hopped down from where I’d been on a bench, slowly making my way toward her. Where I was a sweaty, smelly mess, she was just as pristine as she had been standing in my doorway hours ago. I noted the freckles on her cheeks the closer I got, loving that I could see them even through her makeup.
“Well, did I give you enough content tonight?”
“Indeed, you did,” she answered on a smile. “I just have one question.”
“Shoot.”
“What’s with the fish?”
“Sacrificing to the Osprey!” Carter answered for me, slinging his arm around Maven. She grimaced a bit at how sweaty he was, but didn’t pull away. “It’s tradition after a win.”
“You know what else is tradition,” Jaxson said, waggling his brows as he sidled up next to me. “Boomer’s.”
“And Boomer Bunnies,” Carter added with his own salacious grin.
“Shut up, Fabio. We all know bunnies don’t come for your rookie ass,” one of our defensemen chided. Dimitri Volkov. He was Russian, an older vet, his accent thick and his tolerance for bullshit somewhere around Daddy P’s. I loved him, though, because he was essentially like having a second goalie. The man was a weapon, one I was glad to have on my team.
Carter flicked him off.
“Boomer Bunnies?” Maven asked carefully.
“Boomer’s is the bar we go to after a win,” Brittzy explained. “And let’s just say, there are some very attractive women in the area who are well aware of that fact.”
“They’re also aware of how fat your pockets are,” Daddy P grumbled from the bench. “You’re a fool if you mistake it for anything else.”
“Some of them are nice,” Carter defended.
“Just because one of them let you poke her in the butt doesn’t mean she’s Miss America, Fabio.”
The words shot out of Jaxson like a barrel, and we all burst into a fit of laughter as Carter shamefully took his arm from around Maven. He sulked for a moment before punching Jaxson in the arm.
“Um… she let you… what?” Maven asked.
Carter’s face flamed a furious red.
“Carter here was a virgin the first night we all went out,” Jaxson explained, all too happy to fill in the blanks. “And a couple teammates took some bunnies home, a few of them excited to… play.” He grinned.
“One of them told Carter he could put it anywhere,” I said. Maven’s eyes doubled in size when her gaze snapped to mine, and I loved it. I loved seeing her squirm, watching her reaction to that little tidbit.
It made me wonder what she was thinking, if she was disgusted by the thought, or maybe, just maybe, a little turned on.
“And you… you chose…” Maven slowly turned to Carter again, who threw his hands up like he’d had no other choice.
“I just figured I wouldn’t get that offer as much in my lifetime!”
My stomach hurt from laughing so hard with the rest of the crew in that corner of the locker room, and even Maven cracked a smile, shaking her head.
“Please, don’t post that,” Carter said, sobering up.
“Your virgin escapades aren’t exactly the content we’re going for, Fabio,” Maven shot back just as quick.
“Hey, I’m not a virgin anymore.”
“Does it count if it’s just the ass?” Maven asked.
That made us all laugh harder.
Maven felt like one of us already.
“Alright, twat lickers,” one of our veterans called. Shane Lomberg, a left-winger who was also the first of us to fight when necessary. “Shower your smelly asses, and let’s get this party started.”
Maven shook her head, writing something in her phone before she tucked it away on a sigh. “Alright, well, you guys have fun.”
“You guys?” Carter asked, frowning.
“Ohhh, no. You’re coming, too,” Jaxson said, pointing at her.
“Me?” She laughed a little, like it was a joke, before her eyes scanned each of us. She swallowed when she looked at me, fidgeting with her hair as she shook her head again. “No, no, this is your night. I’d cramp your style.”
My chest tightened at that because I knew she wanted it to land lightly, but I also knew she actually thought that.
She didn’t think she belonged.
My jaw was a little tighter then, thinking about her douchebag ex-boyfriend and his family. He’d hurt her so bad she had a permanent belief about the people she perceived as “rich” and how they were as human beings.
Which meant she was looking around this locker room thinking there was no chance in hell she’d feel comfortable going out with us for a night.
“Come on,” I said, calling her attention back to me. I waited until her eyes met mine. “Twenty-four-seven access, right?”
I threw out the work line because it was an easy one to get away with, one I knew would make her reconsider simply because she cared about doing the job right.
It was also an easy way to cover the truth, which was that I wanted her to come.
And I didn’t want her going home without me.
“Yeah!” Carter agreed. “You’ve gotta come.”
“I’ll buy your drinks all night,” Jaxson chimed in.
“Don’t listen to these guys,” Will said, standing. “If you want to go home, go home. This motley crew will have you out until dawn if you let them.”
“Leave us alone, Grandpa,” Jaxson said, waving him off. He stood between Daddy P and Maven then to hammer his point home. “Don’t make us beg, Maven.”
“But we will,” I said. “If you want.”
The guys and I shared a look before I dropped to my knees, clasping my hands together with big puppy dog eyes.
“Oh, please, Maven! Please come celebrate with us!”
Jaxson and Carter dropped, too, and we chimed it over and over, like kids begging their mom for an ice cream cone.
Maven laughed, shaking her head before she held up her hands and said, “Alright, alright, alright.” We quieted at that last one. “I’ll come.”
Her eyes found mine when she said those last two words.
And I couldn’t help but lick my bottom lip, hoping for the chance to make that statement true.
