Page 37 of Second Chance with the Enemy CEO (Second Chance Hockey Players #1)

Chapter twenty-nine

Liam

T he energy in the arena is electric, almost suffocating.

Fans are screaming, banging on the glass, waving flags, and blowing horns.

It is deafening; the ice beneath my skates feels alive, humming with the energy of the arena.

It is the Avalanche versus the Red Hawks.

This is not just a game; it’s the game - the final of the season. The fight for the championship.

I grip my stick tightly, rolling my shoulders as I take my position at center ice. Across from me, their captain, Harper, is glaring at me. The ref steps forward for the puck drop. James and Tomas are at my sides, while Josh and Nate hold the blue line.

“You ready?” I say to James

“Born ready,” he replies.

Just then, the whistle blows, and the instant the puck hits the ice, everything is in full swing.

Harper lunges for it, but I intercept, snapping it to Josh with the blade of my stick.

The crowd roars as Josh takes control, skating backwards to avoid the Red Hawks’ relentless forwards closing in on him.

“Go! Go!” Josh shouts, firing the puck up the boards to Tomas.

Tomas catches the pass and rockets down the ice, his skates cutting sharp lines into the surface. He dodges a brutal hit from one of their defensemen and sends the puck my way. Catching it cleanly, I dart around another Red Hawk, pushing deep into their zone.

The noise is deafening, but all I hear is my own breath. Harper is on me, his stick slashing at mine, trying to knock the puck loose.

“Not today,” I mutter, spinning sharply to shake him off.

I spot James cutting toward the crease and firing a pass. He catches it but gets slammed into the boards before he can shoot. The puck squirts free, and Harper is there, scooping it up and sprinting toward our end.

“Back! Back!” Blake yells from the goal.

The Red Hawks move like a pack of wolves, their passes sharp and precise. Harper fakes a shot, then dishes it off to their winger, who is wide open. He fires, and my heart skips a beat.

Blake dives, his glove flashing out like lightning. Snag! He catches it, and the crowd explodes into cheers and groans.

“Nice save!” I call, skating by as Blake tosses the puck to Nate.

We are moving again. Nate passes to Josh, who threads the puck to Tomas. Tomas moves fast, slipping through their defense like water; he fires it as fast as their goalie blocks his shot with his pads.

The rebound lands in front of me. I do not think - I just shoot.

Clang!

It hits the post, and the groans are almost as loud as the cheers from the Red Hawks’ fans.

The game is relentless. Hits are harder, passes sharper, and the tension thickens with every passing second. Harper is everywhere, their goalie is unbeatable, and every time we think we have an opening, it closes just as fast.

Midway through the first period, the Red Hawks strike. Harper wins a faceoff in our zone, feeding the puck to their winger, who blasts it past Blake’s blocker side.

0-1.

The Red Hawks’ fans erupt, their cheers echoing through the arena. I grit my teeth and skate to the bench as the whistle blows, ending the first period.

“Nate, you are out, take a breather. Logan, you are in.” Coach says, his voice cutting through the noise.

“Listen up - stop playing into their trap! You guys have got to find a way around their defense. What are you guys doing, huh? They are locking down the slot, so use the outside lanes. Keep the puck moving, stay sharp, and for God’s sake, someone park in front of the net! ”

“Yes, Coach,” we answer in unison.

“Now, go in there, and get them”

The whistle blows for the second period. The puck drops, and Tomas wins it in the corner and sends it to James. It is practically a dogfight. James weaves through and slides the puck to Logan, who quickly redirects it to me. I spot James cutting through the slot and send it back his way.

1-1.

The crowd erupts, and I raise my stick in celebration as we regroup at center ice. Harper gets control again, skating circles around our defense before slipping a sneaky pass to Ortega, who slides the puck right past Blake.

1-2.

Wow. That was fast, damn it. I slam my stick on the ice in frustration as they celebrate.

We all regroup quickly, and this time, we get the puck, only for it to be stolen by Ortega. He fakes a slapshot, then zips a pass to his winger. Blake braces himself as the winger takes the shot, the puck screaming toward the corner of the net.

Thud. Blake's glove snaps shut.

The crowd erupts in cheers, chanting his name. “Blake! Blake! Blake!”

On the bench, Coach is shouting, spitting directions as we rotate lines. Tomas, James, and I are back out. The puck drops again, and I win it this time, sending it straight to Logan.

With minutes left in the period, I intercept the pass and race down the ice. Their defense closes in, but I toe-drag around one and deke past another. The goal is in sight.

I take the shot.

The puck flies low, slipping just under the goalie’s pad and into the net.

The horn blares and the crowd erupts in a frenzy.

2-2

We are tied now.

The buzzer signals the end of the second period. As I skate back to the bench, Tomas slaps my helmet. “That’s how you do it!”

After a while, the third period begins, and it is neck-and-neck. All of us throw everything we have into the game. It is getting intense by the second. Harper cuts through our defense, but James blocks his shot at the last second, sending the puck flying.

Tomas grabs it, sprinting down the ice. He fakes a shot, passing to me instead. The puck slides right to my stick. I aim and shoot.

The puck slams into the back of the net.

The horn blares.

3-2.

Woo Hoo! GOAL.

After regrouping, the Red Hawks come back and push hard. Their center wins the next faceoff, powering into our zone. He is fast, cutting past Josh and winding up for a shot.

He shoots, and Blake dives - glove save!

The arena erupts again with screams and chants of Blake’s name.

Time ticks down. Every second feels like a war.

Bodies crash into the glass, sticks clatter, the puck zips from end to end, and with just a few seconds on the clock, I get my hands on the puck and race with all I have towards the post. I fake a slapshot, making their defenseman bite, then slide the puck to James on the wing, signaling to him I have an opening, he slides it back to me, and I immediately send the puck flying.

The goalie lunges - so close, but the puck slides past him, trickling slowly across the goal line. I hold my breath as it crawls, like the longest second in my life.

And then, the red light blinks on and the horn blares.

GOAL!!!!

4-2

The arena explodes. I can barely hear myself think as the team swarms me, slapping my back and hugging me. But I do not care. We have won. We have made it. The Avalanche are champions.

Blake skates over, pumping his fist in the air, a huge grin plastered on his face. Nate’s shouting in celebration. Tomas is hoisting his stick in the air, laughing. The crowd’s still going wild, chanting our name.

Avalanche. Avalanche.

I can barely hear my own breath over the roar, but I do not care. We did it. We won.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Hazel in the stands, her camera hanging around her neck. She is clapping, smiling wide, and waving her arms in the air. That smile? It knocks the wind out of me more than the game ever could.

I grin, lifting my stick in the air. This win is for her, too.

Before I can skate off the ice, a reporter from the local station, mic in hand, approaches me near the bench. She is bundled up but beaming, holding out the mic.

"Liam! Incredible game tonight! That was an amazing finish. How does it feel to win the championship?"

I run a gloved hand through my hair, still catching my breath.

"Feels unreal. We have worked for all this season, pushed through every setback, and tonight, we left it all on the ice. This team - these guys - they’re my family, and we fought for this win."

She laughs. "That game-winning goal was something else. Walk us through that moment."

I smirk. "Honestly? It was instinct. Blake kept us in it, and when that puck hit my stick, I just knew. I had to finish it. And hey, it worked out."

The crowd erupts again, and the reporter starts to thank me, but I raise my hand slightly.

"Wait, hold on. I have something to say."

The noise dips just a little. Not silent, but enough. I take the mic gently from her hand and scan the crowd.

"I want to thank all of you for being the best fans we could ask for. You showed up for us every single game, and we could not have done this without your energy. Seriously. Thank you."

The crowd roars in approval, but I keep going.

"But there’s one more person I need to thank."

My eyes find Hazel again.

"Hazel McKee, can you come here, please?"

There is a ripple through the crowd as people turn. A few players are grinning behind me. Hazel looks caught off guard, blinking in surprise. People around her start nudging her forward, and she hesitantly makes her way down.

I watch her step onto the ice cautiously, arms hugging herself against the cold, her expression a mix of confusion and curiosity.

When she stops in front of me, I smile down at her.

"Hazel," I start, my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest, "I owe you a big thank you. Something I remind myself about every day. Thank you for giving me a second chance. For sticking around, even when I did not deserve it. For letting down your walls and letting me in again."

Her eyes glisten, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, looking up at me with a softness that nearly brings me to my knees.

"You’ve always been my light, Hazel. When everything else felt like it was falling apart, you were the one thing that made sense.

And I have spent so much time trying to figure out the perfect way to tell you how much you mean to me, but the truth is - there’s no perfect way. It is just this. It’s you and me."

I take a step closer, closing the space between us, the crowd’s noise fading into the background.

"I love you. More than anything. More than this game, more than winning tonight.

And I want more than just this moment with you.

I want forever. I want the late nights, the lazy mornings, and the arguments over what movie to watch, your obsessiveness over the perfect shots, the small things and the big things. I want it all with you."

Her lips part slightly, and I see the tears brimming, but she does not look away. The crowd reacts with a collective "aww" followed by cheers, but all I see is her.

"I know I messed up before, and I can’t erase that. But I swear to you, Hazel, no matter how long it takes, I will keep proving that I am the man who deserves you. I will fight for us every single day. I can’t imagine my life without you in it."

She lets out a shaky breath, her hands fidgeting for a second before she reaches up, resting her palms on my chest.

"Liam…" she whispers, her voice catching.

Handing back the mic to the reporter, I lean down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment, feeling her steady heartbeat against mine.

Pulling back just enough to look into her eyes, I speak softly, for her and her alone.

"I love you, Hazel McKee."

A tear escapes, but she smiles through it, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you too, Liam Callahan. Maybe more."

I chuckle, wiping the tear from her cheek with my thumb and brushing her hair back.

“I’d prefer an intimate proposal though,” she says.

"Really, already asking for a proposal?" I tease.

She laughs through the tears. "What? Isn’t that on your to-do list."

I grin. "It most certainly is. Anything the queen wants."

The crowd cheers louder as I pull her into another hug, holding her tight like I’ll never let go.