Page 31

Game Seven of the Cup Finals

~~Levi~~

Both teams are battling. We’re running on pure adrenaline as exhaustion has set in. It’s been a grueling series, and every man out here is out of gas. Somehow each of us digs deep and finds strength we didn’t know we had.

The score is two to two. There are three minutes left, and this will be my last shift of the season. I hurdle over the boards and sprint down the ice. I’m all alone and streaking toward the net. I yell for the puck. Rex steals it and sends a stretch pass my way. I catch it perfectly on the blade of my stick. Pushing myself beyond my limits, I ignore my body’s protests. The net is several feet away. Their goalie is standing in the middle of the net, watching me with unblinking eyes. He’s poised to go whatever way he needs in a split second’s time. I don’t think. I do. I fake one way, and he takes the fake. I reverse direction and hit that fucking puck with every ounce of power I still possess.

It flies toward the net, careens past the goalie’s shoulder and to the back of the net. The lamp lights. The fans lose their shit. My teammates surround me while the bench erupts into shouting, stomping, and stick banging.

My line skates back to the bench; our shift is over. Guys are slapping my back and calling to me. Fans stay on their feet and don’t let up until the final buzzer sounds.

I’m a Stanley Cup champion, and I scored the winning goal. Yet I know as well as anyone that we did it as a team. I was merely in the right place at the right time.

We stream onto the ice to begin our celebration, but first, the traditional handshake with the other team. I graciously accept their compliments and congratulate them on a series well played. My words don’t erase the pain they’re feeling right now, but I can’t concern myself. One of us emerged the winner and one the loser. This series could’ve gone either way. We were well matched, and neither team dominated the other.

The Cup is presented, and our captain hoists it over his head to skate around the perimeter of the ice with it. I watch from the center of the rink. I’m smiling so broadly it almost hurts. I look toward the gate for Junie. A few minutes later, the WAGs join us on the ice, and I grab Junie and pick her up. I spin her around on the ice while she laughs joyously.

“When you’re done with hockey, you might have a career as a pairs figure skater.” Her eyes light up with mirth, and I shake my head.

“No fucking way in hell. Let’s get this party started.” I grab her hand to pull her into the crowd of players, significant others, coaches, and staff.

“I’m going to celebrate into tomorrow with you, but first, I have something I must do.”

“What?” I’m confused, but I’m ready, willing, and able to assist with whatever it is.

“I need to get to Easton. Help me over there.”

I support Junie’s elbow as she walks gingerly across the ice to Easton, who’s hoisting the Cup while several teammates skate in a circle around him. I know what’s going on now, and my grin widens.

“Big E, hand over that Cup to someone else. I don’t want you to drop it.”

“Why would I drop it?” Easton shouts over the roar of the crowd, who show no sign of leaving the arena. I ignore him and take the Cup from him, passing it off to Steele. Easton glances around before facing Junie.

“Where’s Caro?” He’s clearly not thinking straight, or he’d have figured this out.

“She’s been rushed to the hospital. She’s in labor.”

“Why the fuck didn’t someone tell me?”

“Caro didn’t want you to know until the game ended.”

Easton freezes momentarily before he spins around on his skates and almost falls flat on his ass. He regains his balance.

“Mr. Parker has a car waiting for you outside. You better hurry. You don’t want to miss the birth,” Junie calls out to him. He waves and is gone in a flash.

Junie turns back to me. I pull her into my arms and hold her close. I’m sweaty and exhausted, yet I’ve never been so exhilarated. We move into the group and join the party on the ice. Holding Junie’s hand, I search for my linemates. Landon is closest, and I shake his hand. He’s guzzling a bottle of champagne.

“Oh, Landon, this is the second-best thing that’s happened to me today.” Celeste is only a few feet away from us, hanging on to Landon’s arm.

“Second best? How can winning the Cup be the second-best thing?” Landon snorts and wraps his arms around her.

“Because I’m pregnant.”

Junie and I stare at each other with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“Did I hear her right?” Junie asks.

“Yeah, if you heard what I heard.”

“How about we pretend we didn’t hear shit.” Junie stands on tiptoes and kisses me. I won’t let her get away with a quick one. I dip her down across my arm and give her a kiss full of promise, hope, and love.

I give her my everything.

Thank you for reading Penalty Shot .