Page 39 of Pinch

Fans have started doing a hand signal that’s a combination of theGand theMin American Sign Language. Basically, it’s a fist with the thumb under three fingers for theMthat they shake into a point for theGwhile chantingGav and Mav.

After a while it’s impossible to know if they’re doing theGfirst or theM, and of course my number-one supporter Maverick Murphy likes to insist theyalwaysstart with theM.

Either way, we both toss pucks for it.

I’m in a lunge, stretching my hamstrings, when I look up to see Gigi and Haddy setting up at their designated seatsbehind the glass. Adrenaline spikes in my veins, and I hop to my feet so I can skate closer.

It’s the first time I’ve seen her in almost a week because of our schedules, but I lap the rink before going straight to them. I don’t want to seem too eager. Still my eyes are fixed on her body.

She and Gigi are both in tight black pants and long-sleeved white turtlenecks under their sweaters, and from the front they look identical with the Champions logo on the front.

Chewing my lip hard, I cross center ice, moving in their direction, when Haddy turns around to put her jacket on the seat behind her, and I see a big Number 5 peeking out from beneath her hair.

“Yeah,” I laugh, picking up speed and skidding to a hockey stop in front of them.

It only creates a small spray, but I’ve got a puck in my hand. She straightens, and before she turns around, she sweeps her long, wavy hair into a high ponytail revealing the massiveKnightacross her shoulder blades.Fuckyeah.

She turns around, and her eyes land on mine through the glass. They sparkle blue, and her lips press into a tight smile that makes me laugh again. I hold up the small, black biscuit, and she steps forward to catch it from me.

I toss it gently, and she catches it, waving it at me and giving me a wink.

We’re going to win this one.

Colorado’s team is killer, and for the first half of the game, nobody scores. They got close on us several times, but Saxon and I are strong defenders. If I’m not there, covering Akers, I know he is, and vice versa.

In the second half, we come out strong. Mav almost has it, when a defender swipes his skates, sending him to hisstomach. Still, he flips the puck and nearly makes it past the goalie’s mitt. A fight breaks out as a result, and Mav is landed in the sin bin for two minutes, which is bullshit, since their D-man clearly tripped him.

The clock is beating down, and we’re moving fast. I look up to see a Colorado winger coming down the boards, and it’s go time.

Heading straight for him, I know Sax will cover my spot. I’m tight on the guy, sending my stick through his skates and scooping the puck right out of his possession. Mav’s ready, and I slap it to him, but it hits another player’s skate and flips into the air.

Without hesitation, Mav bats it with his stick, and it flies straight past the goalie’s head into the net. The stadium erupts, and we’re finally on the board.

It’s 1-0, and we just have to hold them a little longer.

But Colorado didn’t come here to lose. These guys are beasts, and I’m slammed into the boards more than once. Another fight breaks out, this time landing one of the Cliffs players in the penalty box, which I guess is meant to make up for the previous, lousy call.

I glance over at the girls to see they’re on their feet, clutching their hands. Haddy is hiding her eyes, which makes me chuckle, and I get checked into the boards, which wakes me up.

No more distractions.

We’re in the third period, and the Cliffs are going for a tie. I’m guarding their left wing when the center shoots through the middle. Saxon stays with him, but at the last minute, the guy does a hockey stop, a skip, turn, and shoots the puck right past Akers.

Shit. We’re all frowning as we glide into formation. The clock runs out, and it’s sudden-death overtime.

Mav’s jaw is set, and he skates up to me. “You know what to do?”

I nod, and it’s time to pull out the move we perfected in Georgia. The Cliffs have the puck, and their left winger is bringing it down the boards.

“Come to Papa,” I say under my breath, skating towards him fast, until I’ve scooped the puck away from him and shoot it over to Mav.

Mav shifts into lightning speed, scooping it out and running it down center ice to the goal. I’m headed back as well, and he shoots it across to me, catching their defender off guard. I bring it around behind the net, and send it back to Mav, who immediately slaps it past the goalie for the win.

“Boom!” Mav yells, spinning around to grab my shoulders and giving me a shake that makes me laugh.

“Tic-Tac-Goal!” Donovan shouts, grabbing Mav around the ribs and playfully slamming him against the boards as Saxon sails past us on his stomach.

The stadium is on their feet cheering. I’m a sweaty mess, but I glide over to where the girls are doing theG-Msign with their hands over their heads. I put two fingers to my lips as if to blow a kiss, which I turn into a point at Haddy. She points back at me, and I’m too fucking happy to care how it looks.