Page 104 of Hold Me Tight

Even so, all I can think is that she and Nora are mine.

They’re my girls.

I’m still riding high from that moment when the third period starts.

I dish the puck off to Knox, already shifting my weight to loop around when Zane barrels into me.

I don’t even see the hit coming. His shoulder crashes into mine, and I slam into the boards with a bone-rattling thud. My head snaps forward, and pain explodes across my ribs and down my arm.

The crowd gasps and the whistle shrieks. The trainer is on the ice before I’ve even caught my breath.

“Are you good?” he asks, squatting beside me, hands moving carefully over my body.

I grit my teeth and nod, even though it’s a lie. “I’m fine.”

It takes effort to push to my feet as my lungs burn and my vision swims. I glance up and find Callie standing, one hand pressed to the glass, eyes locked on mine.

There’s no way in hell I’m crawling off the ice.

Not in front of Zane.

The guy who’s supposed to be my teammate.

The one I considered a friend.

More importantly, I’m not crawling off in front of Callie.

I wave off the trainer and force myself upright, pushing through the fire blazing down my side. My skating is slow and steady as I pretend like the impact didn’t drive the air clean out of me.

When I reach the bench, Coach is already waiting. His face is red and his jaw is clenched tight enough to crack his molars.

“You two want to make a goddamn spectacle of yourselves?” he barks. “If you can’t keep it together, I’ll bench both your asses for the rest of the season.”

Zane shrugs like he doesn’t give a shit.

But I do.

I care about this team and our shot at taking home a Stanley this season.

I also care what happens if this locker room turns on itself.

Even more than that, I care about Callie and Nora, and doing what’s best for them.

I refuse to throw any of that away because Zane can’t get his larger-than-life ego in check.

The rest of the game passes by in a blur of adrenaline and impact. My shoulder throbs. My ribs feel like they’ve been cracked in half. Every time I think Zane’s cooled off, he clips me again. Elbows, slashes, body checks that toe the line. Always just subtle enough to look like nothing if you weren’t paying attention.

With gritted teeth, I play through it.

Every time I glance up at the suite and see Nora cheering, I remember exactly who I’m doing this for.

And when the final buzzer sounds and we edge out a win by a single goal, there’s no celebratory fist pump. Instead, I skate to the bench with sweat pouring down my back. Only then do I look up and find them watching me.

They’re still here.

I don’t give a shit if Zane keeps coming for me, trying to tear down what I’m building with his ex. I’ll take every fucking hit and keep on going.

Just as long as Callie and Nora are mine at the end of it all.