Page 36 of Breaking Point (IceHawks #1)
Grayson
KIERAN ASHFORD
ready for the game?
GRAYSON
ready as I’ll ever be
KIERAN ASHFORD
is Bella coming?
GRAYSON
yes
…why?
KIERAN ASHFORD
I have a theory I want to prove
T he buzz in the locker room is palpable, the high spirits infectious. Some of the guys are in the zone, their headphones in and their sole focus on their pre-game routine, while others—like Kieran, Caleb, and Matteo—sing at the top of their lungs to music.
I can’t help but shake my head at their antics. It’s contagious, so much so that I can’t believe I forgot what this felt like.
I forgot how much joy playing for IceHawks brings me. The electricity beneath my skin, the roar of blood in my ears, my accelerated heart rate of anticipation, the indescribable feeling of my skates hitting the ice as music blasts throughout the arena.
It’s surreal.
And I could lose it all.
Kieran’s hand comes down on my shoulder. “Got any pre-game pep talks for us, Cap?”
Sending him a seething glare over my shoulder, I’m about to object when the entirety of the locker room turns their gaze on me. Kieran knows what he’s doing. He’s continuing to push the narrative that despite Coach revoking my title, I’m still very much the captain of IceHawks in their eyes.
Cheers spring to life, a round of stomping and banging against the lockers as they cheer, “Crawford, Crawford, Crawford.”
Shrugging Kieran’s hand off me as he smirks with triumph, I step up onto one of the benches, the movement making the locker room come to a sudden hush.
“Some of you have been doing this for years. You may think it’s just another game, another win we need to secure on our way toward the Stanley Cup.
” Raking my gaze around the men that feel like my family, I clench my hands at my sides as if it will stop the swell of emotion that rises in my chest. “But this is not just another game. This is not just another season. This is a fresh start .”
The words pour off my tongue before I can give them much thought, but my statements ring true all the same.
“Every time we step foot on that ice, it’s a chance to make history.
A chance to work together as a team. A chance to improve.
” Licking my suddenly dry lips, I go on, noting how my teammates listen to my every word.
“Every decision we have made in life has led us to this moment, to this league, to this team, and to this possibility of greatness. We can go out there and we can settle into comfort. Comfort shots, comfort plays, comfort fast breaks.” I pause.
“Or…we can decide to push. We can decide that this is the game we prove to ourselves just how far we can go. We can decide that tonight is the beginning of our victory, of not just the Stanley Cup but history in the making.” Anticipation hums in th e air as I throw my hands up.
“Now who wants to make fucking history?”
The explosion that erupts throughout the locker room is so loud I slap my hands over my ears as I smile and cheer right alongside my teammates.
“ History, history, history !”
Kieran bumps me with his shoulder as I step down. “Long-winded, but nice to see you again, Cap.” With that, he walks off, lacing up for a night of hopeful victory.
Caleb clutches his chest. “Didn’t know you were so poetic, Crawford!”
“Got a way with words,” Matteo adds.
My snort is barely heard over the cheers and hysteria of pre-game excitement. But my eye roll can definitely be seen.
“He’s back!” someone cheers behind me, starting a wave of claps and fist bumps on my shoulder from my teammates.
“Welcome back, Cap.”
“Nice to hear a speech again.”
“We have to start recording them.”
“Nah, not record, publish! Crawford needs a book.”
It takes a moment for the words to infiltrate and settle. And then it hits me why everyone is so excited. This is the first pre-game speech I’ve given since Drew. Since I lost a part of my soul and heart.
My smile is half-assed at best, but no one seems to notice.
Every time I make a step toward feeling myself again, toward the normal I knew before this great travesty in my life, I retreat just as quickly.
It feels wrong to go back to how it was before because Drew isn’t there to greet me.
And yet, something warms in my chest. Something deep and powerful and full of yearning.
Drew would despise me if I got everyone excited just to disappear inside my head again.
He’d call me whiny and annoying and push me until I came out of my shell.
Something buzzes in my pocket and I realize I haven’t put my phone away yet. Sliding it open, I find a text message from Bella.
BELLA
Good luck tonight!
and don’t lose
What’s the point in being your fake WAG if you lose?
GRAYSON
too true
have to give you bragging material
BELLA
exactly
otherwise my groupies won’t pay attention to me
A laugh bursts out of me before I know it’s even there.
GRAYSON
Using me for my status and job title?
BELLA
Of course, the money is what I’m here for
GRAYSON
Gold digger much?
BELLA
Stereotype much?
With a smile plastered across my face, I throw my phone in my locker and lift my head, my eyes catching on a wise old pair across the locker room, one that takes in the high energy of the team and slides to me.
Then Coach Anderson dips his chin at me.
I don’t feel an ounce of shame in knowing I’m groveling and doing everything in my power to stay on this team. Especially not when that acknowledgement from Coach means more to me than anything.
Whether it’s my pep talk, the talent and dedication of the team, or Coach’s ability to lead, we’re winning.
4-1.
With only the last period left, the clock ticking down, our opponent, Trinity Blue, calls a timeout as they scramble to come back from an imminent defeat.
Skating over to the home bench, my eyes instinctively lock on Bella in the crowd. Her cheeks and nose are flushed from the cold, the IceHawks beanie and scarf bundled around her features making her look soft and innocent.
Yet with her quick-witted mouth, I know she’s anything but.
She should be a distraction, the feel of her gaze on my back while playing something to divert my focus, but it’s done the opposite. The team has played amazing, the defensemen brutal and vicious, but what truly makes my heart soar is how in sync Kieran and I have been tonight.
The devil twins are on full display once more.
A cocky grin spreads across my lips at the thought of Bella seeing me play in all my glory. It seems the extra training sessions and one-on-ones, on and off the ice, are certainly helping.
That, and not getting wasted every night. I have my AA meetings to thank for that.
A click of fingers in front of my face draws me back to the present.
“Beautiful slap shot, Crawford. Keep it up,” Coach says and I greedily drink up the compliment.
He’s walking us through plays in rapid-fire delivery, the team huddled around him, but something twists in my gut. The eyes I’ve been feeling glued to my back have vanished, the weight of them shifted.
Despite needing to listen to Coach, I can’t.
Lifting my head, red-hot fury slices through me as I spot Bella shaking her head with a nervous giggle as the man beside her leans in—too fucking close.
I must have cursed, must have said something under my breath, because the entire team stops to look from me to Bella and to something above my head.
“Ooh shit, Crawford,” Valenti drawls. “He’s coming for your girl.”
Following Caleb and Kieran’s line of sight, I damn near have a heartattack as I see Bella’s beautiful face, straight long brown hair and gorgeous brown eyes, splashed across the Jumbotron.
And alongside her is the asshole leaning in with the words Kiss Cam flashing above their heads.