Page 17 of Hockey Halloween

Xavier

I need my head in this game. I’ve already had one penalty for checking. I can’t afford another one. Neither can the team.

We’re down by one, with ten minutes left in the third period.

It’s our first match up against Ivybrook for the season, and we’re dragging ass.

Not just me, but the rest of the team, too.

Seems Coach Ferguson’s pep talks aren’t sticking today.

He’ll only be upset if we lose because we’re not playing our best, nor giving it our all.

We’re playing sloppy, and when that happens, he’ll be the first to tell you we didn’t deserve to win.

“Hold your heads up. Get back in the game. Show up for your teammates,” Coach calls out to the bench as I hop over it.

I skate out to take my position for the face-off, holding my head a little higher and shoving thoughts of the penalty aside. I’d focus them on Delia, but that wouldn’t be good either.

Hockey. I have to focus on hockey.

Digal nabs the puck when it’s dropped, passing it my way. I skate around the back of our net, Martinez cheering me on. “To the goal, Laitmon.”

That’s the plan. And if not all the way, get it to the next closest Aspenridge player in hopes he can get it into the net .

I survey the ice, making note of the opponents’ positions and my teammates. If Fruin moves slightly to the left, he’ll be open for a pass and lined up for a shot. But hockey moves quickly, and I barely have time to see where everyone’s at before I feel the Ivybrook defender at my back.

“Not so fast, Laitmon,” he challenges. “I don’t think so.” He skates up on my right, his stick poised to seize the puck. He’s fast, but I’m faster.

I slap the puck, calling out to Fruin, hoping the puck meets his stick.

Thankfully, the Ivybrook player can’t send me into the boards, though he wants to.

The hunger for the win is in his eyes. If we don’t step up, they’ll be the victors.

It’s early enough in the season for us to shake off the loss, but we’re on our home turf.

And for the first time in the history of ever, my girlfriend is in the stands. My eyes want to train her way, but I force them to stay on the game and am rewarded with a shot sliding between the goalie’s legs. I’ll take that assist, thank you very much.

I skate back toward the bench, high-fiving the other players, Fruin the hardest. “Way to tie it up.” I hop over and grab my water bottle for a drink.

“It’s a team effort. Your pass set me up.”

“Game’s not done yet. A tie isn’t a win, boys.” Coach’s words penetrate deep. I owe my entire Aspenridge hockey career to him, and I made a promise to myself to show up to every game to win.

With a renewed sense of triumph, I clear away anything unrelated to what’s happening on the ice.

And when I’m back on for my next shift, another goal solidifies our win. With less than thirty seconds to play, unless we fuck up, the victory is ours.

The buzzer sounds, and cheers erupt from the bench and the stands. I glance up at where Delia sits. She’s wearing the hoodie she “borrowed” after the Halloween party. It’s huge on her, but damn if it doesn’t suit her perfectly.

Later tonight, instead of an assist, I’ll go for the goal.

Once the game is over and I’m showered, I amble to the lobby, my eyes searching for Delia.

When our gazes lock, a smile erupts. It never gets old, seeing her excited at my presence.

She’s the first person ever to not treat me for my past but my present.

Of course, she doesn’t know everything about my past, but she knows enough, and probably the most a “stranger” is ever going to know.

She runs and leaps into my arms, something else that won’t ever get old. My very own cheerleader. I don’t even care she’s been to other games or that she might come even if not for me. It’s my name on her back for all the world to see.

“Astounding assist to goal number three.” She always starts with a positive, which I appreciate. Because the assist was astounding.

“Thanks.”

She leans in, her breath hot on my neck. “You’ll never guess what I’ve got under my sweatshirt.” She pulls away with a brow waggle.

“You’ll show me later.”

We’re interrupted by former player Ezra Hamilton, his girlfriend Ayla, and his younger sister Olive. “Good game,” he touts, reaching his hand out to me.

I set Delia on the ground and give it a shake. “Thanks.” I crouch to Olive’s level. “Well, how was it?” She’s a new fan of the sport, and Ezra tries to bring her to as many games as he can since he no longer plays.

“Racked up more time in the penalty box.”

“It’s hockey, kid.” I don’t mention one penalty is good for me.

“You’re fast on your feet. Even Ezra says so.”

“Thanks.”

“But maybe tone down your attitude a bit. Don’t want to get into too much trouble, right?” She shrugs, and I can’t help but laugh.

“So true, Olive. So true.”

We’re joined by the Aspenridge rink manager, Walsh Keeley, and his daughter, Lennon. “Squirt, Olive here was giving me the rundown of the game. Got any notes for me?” Another hockey lover, she’s been our official team mascot since she was a toddler and her dad played. She’s eight going on thirty.

“I do. You might want to sit down. There’s a lot.” Her tone is as unshakable as a mountain.

A collective laugh rises from the group gathered, and her father rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath.

“Can I get a rain check? I’ve got dinner plans.”

“We do?” Delia squeals.

I nod, tucking her against me. “Meat for you, jelly roll for me.”

Red blooms instantly on her cheeks. So maybe it’s a little crass, and maybe there’s a dinner at a restaurant waiting too, but first, we need to celebrate the win.

Lennon’s face scrunches and she gags. “Jelly. Blech.”

“Guess it’s meat for you, Squirt.”

Keeley narrows his eyes at me, and it’s my cue to get the hell out of dodge.

“Until next time, folks. Me and my pumpkin have other pressing matters.”

Delia looks up at me, a raise of her brow at my term of endearment. I get it. Our relationship barely has wheels, but still. She’s mine.

Until she’s not.

If I’ve learned anything in my twenty-two years of life, it’s that kind of thinking won’t get me far. In fact, it will only hold me back. One of these days, I’ll learn to control what comes out of my mouth. But it won’t be today.

Today, I’ve got a date with my sexy lab partner who’s way out of my league, yet here with me anyway.

Inviting her to the hockey Halloween party may have been my most intelligent decision to date.

Even with the pumpkin costume, I stole not only her heart, but every date, kiss, and orgasm she’s willing to give me.

Seems only fair when she’s the only one who’s earned my secrets and the person layered under the identity I portray to the world.