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G ame Six of the championship round and we are ruthless out there. I don’t think I’ve skated so hard in my life. I’ve already lost one important thing in my life, probably the most important; I was not about to lose the most coveted trophy in sports. Even though we are playing on the other team’s turf in Colorado, we come away with a necessary victory.

After the game, I shower and put on fresh clothes. When I am leaving the locker room, our social media coordinator, Amy, approaches me.

“Do you have time to do some media, Tristan? It’s for Instagram Live and I am going to record it so we can keep the footage for later.”

“Sure, Amy.” I run my hand through my damp hair and straighten my shoulders.

“Okay, are you ready?”

I don’t know. Am I ready? This is the time to do what the guys and I talked about. My heart is pounding so hard, I am convinced Amy can tell how nervous I am. I am more nervous about what I’m about to say than I am about the upcoming final game of the series. I nod and flash Amy a smile. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

A white ring light turns on above Amy’s phone and she gives me a thumbs up. “Tristan, congratulations on the win tonight.”

“Thank you.” I force a smile through my clenched jaw.

“How does it feel to be one game away from attaining the Stanley Cup?”

“It’s an incredible feeling. You know, I had the unique opportunity to win the cup a few years ago and I am ready to bring the cup home again to Dallas. This city needs a win and I am going to do everything I can in my power to get it.”

“I think the fans can agree to that. What are some things you think the team needs to do in order to win in Game Seven?”

I shake my head and shrug a little. “Colorado is a great team so we have to stay focused, play our game and not let up on the fight. I know Oakley has been amazing attending goal, so we need to help him offensively by not letting scoring opportunities pass us by.”

“Do you think heading back home to Dallas is going to increase y’all’s chances of winning on Monday?”

I sigh. “That’s always the hope. I mean, we still need to show up and play our best game. Hopefully the fans fill those seats and encourage us throughout the game. It’s always a great crowd, but there is something about playoff crowds that help with momentum, you know?”

“Yes, well you heard it from Tristan Lawson himself. Go get those tickets and show up on Monday night! The game starts at 8 p.m at Southwest Arena.”

I need to say what I need to say before Amy heads off to interview someone else.

“Tristan, thank you so much for talking with –”

“Wait, Amy. Uh.” I stand up, rub my face and take a deep breath. “There’s, uh, something I need to say.”

Amy’s eyes widen with surprise, but she nods and refocuses the camera onto me.

I take a deep breath. “You know, for a long time, winning the Stanley Cup was my only dream. I’ve had the Stanley Cup before and I know what that is like. It’s one of the best feelings in the world. I have grown up a lot since winning my last cup. But I have other dreams now and there is one person who has become my dream and I don’t know if I could ever get that dream back. Um, so I would like to say something to her, if I can.”

Amy nods behind the camera with complete intrigue in her eyes.

“Brooke, if you’re listening to this, I’m so sorry. I put my career before you and that’s not what a man does. A man chooses his life outside of his career. A career is just a thing you do. It’s not the life that I want to live if it’s without you. It won’t mean anything, even winning the Stanley Cup, which that’s the ultimate goal in hockey, right? To win the elusive trophy. The hardest trophy you can ever win. But I’m afraid that in the process, I lost the girl I want the most in this world. The girl I have loved since I was nineteen years old.” I look down at my feet, trying to hold back the tears.

Amy leans in a little closer to catch the request that is going to possibly change my life forever.

“Brooke, if you forgive me, I’ll be waiting for you at center ice in Southwest Arena at 7:55 p.m. before our last game of the season. A game we are going to win.” I look back at Amy. “We are going to get this cup, Amy, but I want to get my girl back first.”

When I’m prepping for the final game a couple days later, I learn from Amy that the video went viral. The amount of shares and tags on our Instagram account with a trending hashtag of #Bristan surpassed anything the social media team ever shared before.

“This is huge, Tristan! We’ve never had three million views on any reel or live or literally anything we’ve ever done before! She has to have seen it, right? And trust me, that helped sell out this game tonight. Anyway, I am rooting for you!”

Has Brooke seen the video of me laying my heart out on the line? That has been the question percolating in my brain since I poured my heart and soul out for everyone to witness. I am trying my best to focus on winning this game, but Brooke’s beautiful face keeps interrupting my focus. Oh and the intrusive thought that she won’t even show and she will hate me and avoid me forever. I can’t have that. I just can’t.

“Good luck,” Amy says. “I hope she shows up.”

God I hope she shows up tonight, too.

We make our way onto the ice for warm-ups and I’ve never been so nervous. The moment I step onto the ice, the crowd erupts to a noise level that I haven’t heard in all the years I have played in this arena. Fans are holding up signs that say things like Brooke and Tristan 4 ever and Brooke + Tristan = Endgame .

I center my attention on the puck and go through our usual drills of contesting our goalie and circling around the rink. My teammates tap my shoulder when I pass them as a means of encouragement. I force a smile back at them, partly trying to convince myself that I’m not completely insane to request this from Brooke. Is there any hope that she even saw my message? I guess it’s a risk. But I know that I didn’t get this far in my career without taking a risk on myself, and I needed to take this risk to try and save the once-in-a-lifetime love that I have with Brooke.

The announcer tells everyone to rise and remove their hats for the national anthem and I make my way to my spot next to Bradley. I lower my head to ground myself. The words of the anthem fade as I focus on my breathing. The only thing preventing me from falling over is my breathing.

Earlier today, I asked the people running the scorekeeper’s box to start the timer for five minutes right after the anthem. Cheering from the crowd resumes, and that’s when I snap out of my own head and realize the national anthem is over. I look up at the center scoreboard, suspended over the rink, and see that a countdown for five minutes has replaced the normal twenty minutes displayed for the start of the first period.

The crowd continues to get louder and louder on their own. No prompt from the announcer. No graphic on the scoreboard telling them to do so.

“They’re cheering for you, you know.” Bradley bumps my shoulder. “They’re rooting for Brooke to show up. As if you couldn’t steal their hearts anymore than you already have.”

My brows furrow a little. “What if she doesn’t show, man?” My heart feels like it is going to burst out of my chest, from excitement and a sense of preemptive despair. I swallow the huge lump in my throat.

Bradley looks at me so earnestly. “All I have to say is that no matter what happens tonight, you are still my best friend. I know things are complicated between you and my sister, but honestly, when has it ever not been complicated between you and Brooke?”

I smile at his comment because of the truth behind it. It’s always been complicated with us. Since day one. The only difference between now and then is that I love her even more.

Bradley pats my shoulder. “You shot your shot, bro. It’s her turn to respond. Good luck, man.”

I make my way to the center ice and the timer starts counting down. I keep my eyes on the tunnel, waiting and hoping and praying to see a pink knotted headband appear out of the darkness and for Brooke’s face to illuminate in the spotlight that is inevitably going to be shining on her. I sway to keep myself in the moment and try not to focus on the seconds ticking down.

The timer is already down to one minute and there is still no sign of Brooke. This was a stupid idea. You should’ve never listened to those dumbasses in the locker room the other day. She probably ignored the video altogether and stopped following the Dallas Storm on Instagram. Shit, did she even follow us in the first place? I should’ve checked that before I even went along with this plan.

Thirty seconds remain on the timer. The crowd is as loud as ever and they start chanting my name. This time it isn’t because I scored a goal or because I slammed someone into the sideboards. This time it is personal.

“C’mon, Cupcake,” I whisper to myself with five seconds left on the scoreboard. My heart sinks all the way down to my stomach as it finally reaches zero.

Cold, stark zero.

Fuck. She didn’t come.

A hush falls around the arena as reality sets in. I lower my head in defeat. As much as I was trying to prepare myself for the worst, deep in my heart I really thought she would show up. She had to have known it took a lot for me to admit all of those things in a very public way. I wanted to give her a grand gesture because that’s what she deserves. I just hope the next man who comes into her life spoils her like I planned to. I guess I’ll never have that chance again.

Disappointment rushes through my body and leaves me with a heavy pit in my stomach. This is worse than losing this game. I lost the one person who challenged me more than anything else in my life.

Suddenly the crowd goes wild. I glance around and see everyone pointing to the tunnel. My heart leaps.

There she is. In my jersey. Wearing a green knotted headband this time.

The most surprising thing of all is that she is actually skating out toward me. In all the countless times I imagined this moment, I always pictured me skating toward her when she showed up at the tunnel entrance. I was ready to lift her in my arms and never let go. I never imagined my girl on the ice, skating out to me. She is still a little wobbly, but she doesn’t look down once. She keeps her eyes on me with the biggest smile on her face.

Brooke has the ability to drown out everything else around me. Even a crowd of twenty-thousand people going crazy before the championship game. I know from that moment on that she will be my touchstone. My rock that will forever keep me in check and ground me. She took a chance on us by showing up.

She’s almost made it to me when she loses her balance. I reach out and catch her hands. God I’ve missed these hands. I’ve missed her smile. I’ve missed her caramel hair. I’ve missed her hazel eyes. I’ve missed everything about her.

When she regains her balance, she wraps her arms around my neck. I finally snag her around her lower back and tug her toward me so that her gorgeous body is flush with mine. I don’t care if twenty-thousand people are watching us. I am going to kiss my girl.

I trace my thumb along Brooke’s jaw and take every inch of her in. I lean down slowly but her lips crash into mine, and my body relaxes for the first time in weeks because Brooke is in my arms. From the second her mouth covers mine, I know that she missed me too. It isn’t a quick brush of our lips. It is an all-consuming kiss, loaded with years of wanting and needing. And now we finally have each other.

I tug her closer to me as she tightens her grip on the hair brushing the nape of my neck. She opens her mouth and I sweep my tongue over hers and she moans. I try to tear my lips away from her, but Brooke kisses me harder. I laugh against her lips. She finally breaks our kiss and looks up at me, smiling with her whole face.

“You came,” I murmur.

“Very risky move, Hot Shot.” She continues gliding her fingers along my neck, her eyes landing on my lips and back up at my eyes. “Betting that I would come here tonight.”

I tuck some hair behind her ear and smile. “You gotta take risks if you want things to change, Cupcake.”

It’s a damn shame I have to play this hockey game because all I want to do is throw her over my shoulder and take her home to my bed. Show her how much I missed her. “You learned how to really skate, Cupcake. When did you take lessons? I know I didn’t teach you.”

“Bradley may have helped a teensy bit.” She squints her eyes and almost presses her thumb and index finger together.

I look over at Bradley and he is smiling like a fool. Why the hell did he not tell me he was teaching Brooke?

Almost as if Brooke can read my thoughts, she whispers in my ear, “Because I told him not to say anything to you. Tristan, I was so hurt by what you did and I wasn’t sure I would ever see you or talk to you again. I wanted to prove to myself that I could follow through on at least one of the risks I took, especially since you were out of the picture. I thought that I was afraid to fall on the ice, but I think the real reason I was afraid to skate was because it was so closely linked to you and I was terrified of letting you in at all. I was afraid to fall, but despite my best efforts to keep you out of my head and out of my heart, I ended up falling for you, Hot Shot.” She brushes a kiss on my lips again. “I’m still in love with you, Tristan. But I’m so terrified of letting you in again after everything.”

I take her face in my hands, “Look I know that I did that stupid bet with Hastings, but I can’t say I regret it. Because if it wasn’t for that bet, I wouldn’t have really told you how I feel and we wouldn’t be standing here right now. I’m still in love with you, too. My love for you is the only constant in my life. I’m just so happy you are taking another risk being here tonight, Brooke. I promise you that I won’t make you doubt me or my intentions with you ever again.”

She nods. Tears are rolling down her flushed cheeks and I wipe them away. I know how much she is putting her heart on the line with me. I am not going to screw this up. If I have to make it up to her for the rest of my life, I will.

She grabs my jersey in the middle of my chest with both hands and pulls me down so our noses are touching. She bites her lower lip before speaking, which makes my insides fucking melt like they always do when I’m in Brooke’s presence. “Yeah, you’re right. I took a risk when I came here tonight. Good thing the risk was worth it.”

She collides her mouth with mine so hard that she almost knocks me off-balance. It starts to turn into a messy, fervent kiss. I hear whistles and cheers from the crowd. I begin to think that Brooke forgets where we are because she basically attempts to climb up my body. She grabs onto my hair and pulls it slightly. She is kissing me like it’s the last time and I am kissing her like it’s the start of forever. Brooke laughs and lets out a small squeal as my hands travel from her face to her butt and I lift her up. “Tristan, you better not let me fall,” she says in between her unrestrained kisses.

“I’m never letting you go, Cupcake.” I continue to kiss my girl with unrelenting fervor when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

“Um sorry to interrupt this love fest, you two. But we kind of have a game we need to start,” Bradley interrupts what is probably the best moment of my life. To be fair, he is reminding me that I am about to fight like hell for the second-best moment of my life.

He hands me my black helmet. I lower Brooke to the ice. Her eyes crinkle as she looks up at me with a smile that completely wrecks my whole world. I fucking love that smile.

“Plus, it’s kind of nauseating watching you make out with my sister.” Bradley grimaces as he puts on his own helmet and skates away.

The arena lights come back on and the clock on the jumbotron sets to twenty minutes. I hold onto Brooke’s hand and lead her toward the entrance to the tunnel. Once she reaches the black padded surface, I release her hand. She turns toward me and grabs my helmet. She gestures to lean down. When I do, she secures the helmet on my head and taps it twice. Her hazel eyes meet mine as her hand caresses my chest and traces the Storm emblem on my jersey.

“Go get ’em, Hot Shot.”

I wink at her, causing that smile to return to her gorgeous face, as I skate back and find my way to center ice for the second time tonight. I take my position for the faceoff. The main referee is about to drop the puck and funnily enough, all the pressure built up from the anticipation for this game, this integral game in my career, is lifted. I realize that no matter what that scoreboard says, no matter how many goals I score, no matter how many assists I do, or whatever else happens on this ice – there is someone in those stands who is going to love me anyway. I know whose face I am going to search for every time in the crowd. Forget the trophy. Brooke has always been everything I’ve ever wanted.