Page 150 of Breaking the Ice

“No matter what happens tonight or in Minnesota, it’s been a hell of a season,” Zach said quietly. Like he was feeling the nostalgia of watching their final warmup on home ice the same way Gavin was.

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Gavin said, glancing over and meeting his eyes. Some days he could only see the twenty-seven-year-old Zach, the man who’d arrived at his cabin this summer in the broadness of his chest and shoulders, the occasional shadows in his blue eyes. But other days, he could see a whole progression of Zachs, overlaid on top of each other. The grownup Zach, and the eighteen-year-old he’d coached for the first time, the nineteen-year-old he’d sent off to the NHL. The twenty-three-year-old who’d clawed his way up in the Mavs organization, making himself more valuable after each minute of ice time he earned with his blood, sweat, and tears.

In different ways, he’d loved all those Zachs.

But he couldn’t deny he loved this Zach,hisZach, most of all.

He was so goddamn lucky, to find this kind of life-altering, life-defining love, twice, and to get to share his favorite thing in the world with him, too. Maybe a less selfish man would let this record go. Decide that having it all was truly an embarrassment of riches. But Gavin wanted it all, still.

Wanted to carve their names,this team, so deeply in the record books nobody could ever think of forgetting them.

“Literally you couldn’t have done it without me,” Zach teased lightly, nudging him with his shoulder. “If I hadn’t gone and begged you to take the job, everything would be different. You wouldn’t be here at all.”

“Different and so much worse,” Gavin said. “Come on, let’s go win this, okay?”

Zach grinned. “We got you, Coach.”

Gavin knew it wasn’t only that—he had them, too—but always before, he’d have made a point of it, that he was the coach and the leader. That it was onlyhisteam.

But it wasn’t anymore, and he knew it.

So he only smiled back.

Elliott and Mal were on fire from the moment Ivan took the first faceoff.

It wasn’t the last time they’d ever play together. There was Minnesota and the Frozen Four coming up, and there’d be other games. But none like this.

They felt it, pushing deep into the opposing teams’ offensive zone as easy as breathing, Elliott literally skating circles around one of the defensemen, flicking the puck around his skates,passing it to Mal, then receiving it back, tape to tape like they were sharing the same brain, the same physical body.

He made an aborted move like he was going to shoot it, let the goalie sink into his block, before sending the puck Mal’s direction and he sank it in the opposite side of the net.

The way it started was the way the game kept going.

The Evergreens were up 1-0, then 2-0, then the second power play team scored, Ethan, the youngest rookie at seventeen and the one center on the team Gavin thought might have the most upside, grabbing the rebound from one of Mal’s deflected shots.

It was a great game. Easy andfun, Finn looking almost bored at the nearly abandoned end of the ice.

Between the second and third period, Elliott danced around the locker room, Mal smiling at him, looking lighter than Gavin could remember himeverlooking.

“Those two,” Ramsey said to Gavin as he walked up next to him, shaking his head. “They’re absolutely going to do something against the rules after this game.”

Gavin shot him a look full of disbelief. “What dotheythink is against the rules?”

“Not whatwethink is against the rules, or God forbid whatElliottthinks is against the rules, but what doesMalcolmthink is against the rules?”

“I’m not sure I want to know,” Gavin said, scrubbing a hand across his face. “Maybe don’t tell me anything more.”

“Just a hunch, Coach. Might want to clear out of the locker room early and leave it that way,” Ramsey said, laughing.

“God.”

“Don’t think he’s gonna be around much, either,” Ramsey cackled.

The third period started, and the Evergreens kicked it off with a power play. Their opponents came out of the intermission apparently deciding that if they couldn’t beat them with their sticks and the puck, they could do with their fists.

“Sloppy and shitty,” Zach hissed under his breath, as one of the team’s biggest defenders went right after Brody, slamming him up against the boards.

Brody shook it off, but a look crossed Ramsey’s face that promised retribution.