Page 17

Both teams dial up the intensity right from the get-go, and our first line is barely able to hold themselves up when the first change takes place.

The game stays scoreless as our second line keeps up the momentum, matching our opponents almost equally in possession and shots on goal, but right when our coach is about to call for another change, one of Skellefte?’s forwards dekes out our defense and slaps a pesky shot on goal.

The buzzer sounds, which stings, but my line is called up, and I scale the boards.

I hit the open ice with a crash and take off to my position on the left, with Nils close behind me.

Axel is already battling at the boards on the right, and in the scuffle, he kicks the puck toward center ice.

Nils scoops it up before getting intercepted, and he passes it to me at the last second.

I dash across the blue line, racing straight for the goal.

A defenseman skates into my way, but I keep my speed up, essentially daring him to stop me.

He hesitates, and a quick glance off to the right confirms that Nils is open, so I backhand the puck over to him which makes their defense change tactics.

Spinning around, I catch the last millisecond of Nils’s possession before he cracks the puck over the goalie’s shoulder into the net.

The buzzer sounds and Nils is on me in an instant, wrapping me in a bear hug and yelling into my ear with extreme excitement.

Dazed, I skate back to the Alvik bench while the first line gets back on the ice, and Nils keeps on shaking me like I was the one who scored.

“Holy shit, you’re epic ,” he tells me between drags from his bottle. “I’m so glad we’re linemates.”

“You buried it, that’s the hard part.” I rip my helmet off to cool down and Nils sends a friendly squirt of water to the side of my head, pointing up at the Jumbotron where a slow-motion replay of our goal is unfolding.

When I’m shown passing the puck, he lets out a whistle and the players sitting near me clap me on the back. I offer a wide smile back.

The first period ends with us still tied, and I don’t get a ton of ice time in the second. Both teams score again, and we enter the third period sweaty, exhausted, and determined.

After a short, scoreless shift a little after halfway through the period, I’m back on the bench, my legs burning. I’m still recovering when Coach changes the line again, and I keep my focus on the ice.

Then our center slams into a Skellefte? defenseman and gets hit with a two-minute penalty. Shit. The last thing we need is to be on the short end of a power play.

“Enlund, Norberg, get on the ice!”

I jerk my head up to see Nils climbing the boards and I jolt into action, clearing my head and tearing up the ice. No two plays are the same, I know that, but if Nils and I can wrangle another goal like we did in the first period, that’d be clutch.

Straddling the blue line, I receive the puck and slide into the offensive zone, maneuvering around a defenseman and making a beeline for the goal. Nils is right where he needs to be, open and ready, and I snap the puck over to him.

Out of nowhere, Skellefte?’s defense intercepts it, and an easy pass turns into a brutal battle for control. I skate in, ready for anything, when Nils locks eyes with me and leans away, the defenseman following his body to block the shot on goal.

And it’s a shot on goal that doesn’t happen.

Nils flicks the puck away from the net, sending it over to me instead.

He might be a mean sniper down the center, but I skew offensive, more than most wingers, and I can hold my own.

No sooner than the puck hits my stick, I slap it at the corner of the goal, on the opposite side of where the sweat-drenched goalie is.

I hold my breath as the puck sails away, and I barely stop myself from collapsing when the net swishes and the horn sounds.

We did it.

I’m still dazed and catching up to reality when my team tackles me, yelling cheers in my face and shaking my shoulders. It’s hard to hear the crowd in the background over my teammates yelling in celebration, but I don’t care.

Even though the next few minutes are a battle between my post-goal high and the tense waiting game as the clock ticks down, the high wins out and erupts once the buzzer sounds, sealing our 3-2 win. The team shares a round of congratulations before dashing into the locker room.

I’m about to pull my phone out when Axel taps me on the back. “Hey, go shower,” he says. “We’re all going out to celebrate.”

“Oh yeah?”

Nils jumps in, a towel slung over his shoulders. “Yeah, of course. And you better not try to pay for anything. You saved us tonight.”

I’m about to reply, but Nils cuts me off.

“Dude, you’re not allowed to be humble. You scored a goal and made an assist in your first game here. Celebrate a bit.” At that, he walks his bare ass off to the showers, leaving me to fumble around in my gear bag for my wash kit, and my hand makes contact with something cold and hard.

It’s Luke’s silver hockey puck. I put it there when he gave it to me, and I guess I forgot to take it out.

Given my performance tonight, I’d better keep that puck in my bag. Maybe it’s some kind of twisted good luck charm.

After a thorough shower using expensive soap from a brand partnership, we all head over to a raucous bar next to the rink.

As expected, we get a round and drink to our first win of the season, but we have an early practice tomorrow, so the celebrations fade within an hour, leaving me alone with Nils.

“So, where are you staying?” Nils asks me.

“With my parents for now, in Lidingo.”

He winces. “Ooh, that’s far as hell, buddy. You planning on moving any closer?”

I finish the rest of my beer. “Yeah. Haven’t had much time to search.”

“There are a few apartments in my building if you’re interested,” he says. “I’m right across the water on Kungsholmen, only one stop away on the metro.”

I perk my head up. “Consider me interested. Is it nice?”

“Oh yeah. It’s one of the few apartments Silja and I found that has in-unit laundry.”

My concerns about balancing basement laundry room bookings and annoying my neighbors with frequent gear washing dissolve almost instantly. “Send me all the information you have. I’ll apply as soon as I get home.”

“Awesome! I’d drink to us being neighbors, but you have a long trip back.

” Nils turns around to face the menu above the bar before turning back to me and leaning in, his eyes narrow.

“Okay, here’s the deal. There’s a dude behind me, and I caught him making eyes at one of us every time I looked in that direction.

I’ve had my back to him the whole time, so I’m guessing he’s interested in you. ”

“Really?”

He nods. “Yup. Dark hair, black shirt, and he’s a little shorter than us. Can’t miss him.”

Also pretending to read the bar menu, I look around for this guy, more out of curiosity than anything, and sure enough, he’s easy to spot. The guy is hot, sure, with a square jaw and a decent build, but there’s no force that draws me to him.

“You see him?” Nils asks.

“Uh huh. Not going there tonight.” Even though Luke and I weren’t together for real, hooking up with someone else would still feel like cheating.

He showed me how good things can be when someone actually gives a damn, and I don’t want to go back to meaningless hookups that kick me out two seconds after the end of something barely satisfying.

I mean, I had some decent sex before I met Luke. It’s just that only a handful of those guys pulled their weight, and Luke still put himself in a league of his own.

Nils claps me on the back. “Damn, your Canadian guy must have set the bar real high.”

I shrug, downplaying everything, even though Nils hit the nail on the head. “Guess so. I’m still not over Luke, but it’s only been a week, so I’ll get there.”

“For sure.” Nils checks his watch and straightens up. “Anyway, sorry to cut the night short, but I gotta head home. See you tomorrow at practice?”

“Yup.”

We head out of the bar, with Nils heading to the metro and me to a random bench so I can order a taxi. When I pull out my phone, I catch a bunch of texts that came in from Luke after the game.

LUKE TREMBLAY

Holy shit that game was intense

You were on fire

Wait. Did he watch my game?

Highlights don’t come out this quickly.

Luke watched my game.

Sweet, inconvenient warmth fills me as I tap out a reply, a silly grin tugging at my lips.

You watched??

Yeah man ofc I did

Someone got an SHL+ subscription

You subscribed to SHL+?

Yeah bro ofc. Gotta support my buddies however I can

Man. Bro. Buddy. Sheesh. I guess all it took was some distance for us to finally be just friends.

That sucks.

Scratch that. Luke getting over me hurts , and I hate it. I hate not being able to call Luke and tell him that no, I don’t want to pretend like we’re friends. I want him.

Fuck, I want him so bad.

But he deserves to move on without me getting in the way. It’s only fair.

Thanks for the support btw. Maybe you’ll finally back a team that wins once in a while

Luke laugh-reacts to my message, and I sigh. We can be friends, and I’ll get over this crush, like how Luke is doing right now.

I have to. It’ll just take time.