51. Tyler

My head was still vibrating from that hit. As I stood under the locker room shower and watched bright red blood swirl around the drain, I convinced myself it was the result of the fury behind that punch. The team's concerned glances flickered over me a couple of times. I couldn't muster any joy at our victory. Not when it meant we were one game closer to witnessing Hunter leave.

I turned off the tap and wrapped a cheap white towel around my waist. Something about a locker room shower just never made me feel clean enough, and I was itching to get back to the hotel for a proper clean.

As I walked through the dressing area, I heard my name amongst the persistent ringing in my ears. I turned to see Coach glaring at me furiously.

"Get over here, Riley!" he barked. "You're bleeding all over the place. You need Baxter to check that out."

I tried to nod, but it only made my head swim, so I silently made my way to the team's physician. My split eyebrow had become a familiar spot for such hits. Could I truly be a hockey player without a scar in place of a piercing there?

"How are you feeling?" Baxter inquired. There was no way I was going to bring up the way my head was swimming—he'd instantly bench me.

"Fine. Just bandage me so I can rest up for tomorrow." I attempted a smile, hoping it hid the pain behind my eyes.

Baxter looked at me hard, and I gave him the eye contact he was after. I sighed with relief when he gave me a clear.

I got myself dressed, telling the team I would only celebrate once we were victorious against Merrimack the next day.

Yep—that Merrimack made it to the finals.

I beelined toward the lifts that led to our hotel room. I didn't need to look behind me to see if Hunter would follow—I knew he would. Part of me hoped he'd stay behind to spend some time with the team. I didn't want him to miss his last few moments with them because I was a little sad. Besides, we'd all meet at the hotel restaurant to share our last meal as a team. Next year, a whole new batch of players would replace the seniors heading off to the big scary world.

After another careful shower with my injury in mind, I got dressed once more.

I found myself feeling somewhat guilty as I made my way downstairs. The team scattered about the restaurant, spirits still soaring from the win. Hunter draped his arm over my shoulder. To everyone else, it seemed like nothing more than a friendly move, but I welcomed that physical connection.

"Alright, boys, take a seat," Coach boomed, and we all did. I sat between Hunter and Jarman, facing Mouse and Amon. Coach headed to one end of the table while Colton took the other and the rest of the team found their places.

"First, Captain, we thank you for all your work this year. This is one of our best seasons yet. I have been proud to have such a great bunch who have worked hard for the stats that they have. I'll give you the floor to say a few things."

Coach sat down, and I watched as Colton stood and adjusted his tie. "Well team, we did it! I have no doubt we'll crush Merrimack tomorrow—again. We know this team is scrappy, but we have the skill to put them in their place. It has been a great pleasure being captain, especially in our best season yet."

Hunter's hand squeezed my knee under the table, seemingly aware that despite everything, the tension between me and our captain was palpable. He didn't like me—that much was clear.

The coach took the spotlight once more. "Thank you, Colton. Well, I want to say it really has been a momentous year. I know quite a few of you are hoping for a contract—and I do not doubt that you'll get it. But I want to highlight someone: Tyler Riley. You were a bit quiet coming in, but since you've shown remarkable skills on the ice despite everything working against you. The way you jumped in headfirst, helping your teammates and proving your dedication to this team is commendable. I know we have one more game to play, but we've all voted. Tyler Riley—you're our player of the year."

My cheeks were on fire as Coach handed over a small medal. Whether it was from the praise or the dozen pairs of eyes on me, I wasn't sure—but I deflected anyway. "Thank you, everyone. Really, it was all you. It's been an amazing opportunity to play with such a talented group. Hockey is a high-stakes world where I come from, and you've helped me become a better player. So, yeah, I am just grateful. No matter the outcome of my hockey career, whether that is going back home or playing here, I am happy for this experience." Hunter's grip turned punishing at the mention of me moving back to Australia.

"Pfft, if any of us is making it to the big leagues Aus, it's you," Mouse called. "You've carried this team." Mouse continued despite the glare I was trying to send him across the table. If Colton fumed any harder, his head would explode.

The chorus of agreements should have warmed my heart, but I was stuck on the hurdles in my way—the NHL had never seemed so far out of reach.

Luckily, the rest of the dinner went by peacefully. I listened to Mouse ramble on and on and despite the dark cloud that was surrounding me, I couldn't help but smile. The guy could talk the ass off a donkey, but his energy was infectious.

I spun when a strange hand tapped my shoulder.

"Surprise," Cal said with spirit fingers. He stood there in his suit with an ear-to-ear grin. A gold metal hung around his neck. I already knew he'd won his competition—he updated me the second it happened—but typical Cal, he wore that medal with pride.

Good for him.

"I'm the reason you were late yesterday so I thought the least I could do is support you at your final game. Besides, I won't be able to soon. You're looking at a signed figure skater who's moving to Canada!"

My nails dug into my palm, the prospect of everything I was about to lose looming over me like a tidal wave. Without my crew around me when Mum died, I doubt I'd have made it through. They were my rock, keeping me focused on the goal and preventing me from wallowing in self-pity. This was what Mum always wanted for me—to play hockey with the best, to make friends outside of that small town I grew up in. But now, everyone was moving on with their lives—and I was getting left behind.

I bit the inside of my cheek, the pain distracting me long enough to put my game face on. I shot to my feet and excused myself from the table, racing upstairs to my room. My hands shook and my thoughts raced so fast it made me dizzy. I collapsed against the bed, sliding down to the floor, and dropping my head between my knees. My temples pounded, and I gripped my hair to distract myself from how it once again protested the thoughts in my mind. The overwhelming sense of being alone, of saying goodbye over and over and over again, swallowed me whole.

"I can't do this." The words hurt my throat, and I couldn't figure out why. The world was spinning beneath me with no way for me to stop it.

"Yes, you can, baby," Hunter whispered, crowding my space. "You have been doing this for a year. You've got this." I felt the words against my neck, and the restraints around me tightened. However, instead of feeling suffocated, it felt like they held me together.

"I can't, I can't, I can't." The words came out short and sharp as I tried to catch my breath.

"Baby…" Hunter's voice broke.

"Everyone is leaving, and I'll be alone. I just can't say goodbye, Hunter, I can't!" I tried to wiggle out of his grip, but his strong arms didn't let me. The words hurt too much. It would be selfish to ask him to stay.

"I was stupid, so stupid. I never thought about what it would mean to lose you."

"Baby," he said again as if he were at a loss for words. He gripped me tighter, his lips brushing against the side of my head.

That bubble grew in my chest until it burst and a sob broke free. My eyes hurt and my throat burned. I berated myself for getting into this mess. I berated Hunter for not giving me a reason to hate him. I should have resisted the pull. Yet, as he held me tighter amid my sobs, I acknowledged there was no chance I could have refused him. Initially, he was broody, sarcastic, a lone wolf. But I'd let myself fall for the man who whispered sweet nothings to me as I drifted off to sleep, the man who'd become my family. He infused my life with so much joy that I found myself crumpled on the ground, weeping for just one more day, one more month… one more anything with him.

Because he was the one. The one for me. I'd known it from that first "one more time." The weight of it all poured out of me, and instead of pushing him away, I found myself clinging to him for dear life.

"It's not going to be the same without you," I sobbed. "I don't know how I am going to do this, Hunt. I don't know. I'm scared."

Rough hands maneuvered me, and I let him move me where he wanted until I straddled his lap. His hands cradled my face, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him—that would be letting him see right into my feelings.

"Baby, look at me."

I shook my head, tears spilling down my cheeks and over his fingers.

"Please, look at me, baby."

Unable to fight his pull any longer, I gazed into those golden eyes that glittered in the dim hotel lamp light.

"That's it," he praised, then his voice turned stern. "Now listen to me. You are not losing me; no distance will change the way I feel about you. Do I know what it will look like? No, but I know how I feel. I'll spend every moment I can with you, whether on the phone or in person. Your friends aren't leaving you either. Whether you get signed tomorrow or lead this team to more victories, you will succeed. And you most definitely won't be alone."

The determination in his eyes kept me from protesting.

"And no matter where I am, Aus, I am yours. If you want to move on, I'll accept that but know that there will be no one else for me. I'll have you whichever way I can until we're together again. Either way, know this isn't our last time."

I took in his features, counting the little scars decorating his face. Some were hidden in the beard he'd let grow out—a tradition for the end of the season. I memorized his olive skin and dark hair, which had recently been cut but was still long enough for me to grab onto. I didn't hate it; he was all man. The only man I could ever see as being mine. Our lips collided, but he kept the kiss sweet

"As much as I want you, I just want to hold you tonight, baby. You're exhausted, and you also took a good knock to the head today. Not to mention that panic attack and don't think I haven't seen you nursing that headache. If it wasn't our last game tomorrow, I would be asking you to sit this one out. This isn't our last night together. Tomorrow, we will be the winners of the Frozen Four and I'll make love to you in ways you never even imagined."

I couldn't help but laugh. "You'd better, hotshot." I stayed right where we were, resting my head against his shoulder. I was tired, really fucking tired. I felt Hunter gather me up and tuck me into him on the mattress—I didn't even question how he could lift me. Hunter was nothing if not superhuman in my eyes.

I woke up to the echoing sound of both our alarms. I smiled, knowing that he was the one to set them the night before. Despite my throbbing headache, I gathered my thoughts, acknowledging that my usual pre-game routine had been abandoned last night. I looked over to the spare bed seeing my workout clothes folded and waiting with my full water bottle sitting on top—even my smartwatch had been put on the charger. I moved into the bathroom, sure that there would be clothes scattered on the floor—a particular pet peeve of mine—but was surprised to find it spotless.

Hunter's arms encircled my waist, and his lips met the nape of my neck. "Everything to your liking, baby?" he teased. I melted into his touch. Without Hunter, I wondered how chaotic my high-strung, type-A personality might become.

"Thank you—for everything," I expressed, hoping he understood the true weight of those words. His lips brushed my cheek before he moved away to get ready.

There was no room for sentimental moments. It was time for each of us to prepare for the game in our own way. Like two sheepdogs doing a job, we collected what we needed and made our way to channel our buzzing energy.

The sight that greeted us was a mix of excitement—mostly from Mouse—and nervous anticipation from our teammates. Pre-workouts were done, game suits were on, and Colton was giving his pep talk. The team responded with stick bangs, but that nervous energy lingered. This particular team unsettled us the most, and doubts were beginning to take root.

"I want to say," I started "This season has been the best I've ever played. Each and every one of you has what it takes to beat those guys out there. Forget about the stats, the agents, the cameras. Focus on the chemistry we've built. When you step onto that ice, think about your teammate beside you. Make this your best game ever. Let's make this a memory to last a lifetime."

Amid catcalls and stick banging came, "We're not here to fuck with spiders! Let's show them what BU is made of."

The team dispersed from the benches, and I watched everyone head down to the ice, exuding enthusiasm. A hand rested on the back of my neck, and Hunter's scent enveloped me as he leaned into my ear.

"That mouth of yours has so many talents, baby," he remarked, giving me a wink and swatting my ass with his stick as he walked past me.

"Win this game with me, Boston, and I'll show you what else this mouth can do," I teased, enjoying the way the tips of his ears reddened. We stepped onto the ice behind our team for the last time, determined to make it a night to remember. I resolved to tell my broody Bostoner that I loved him tonight—regardless of the game's outcome.

There was no doubt I had a target on my back. It felt like I was evading hits more than I was going after the puck. The thudding in my noggin fought for attention, as I tried to clear my head and read the play, a task that used to come naturally. But whatever strategy we were employing, it was working—kind of. The first period ticked away, and it was a scoreless game. While their defense was stellar, ours matched up. The buzzer sounded and I welcomed the twenty-minute breather. How we managed to avoid turning the game into a fistfight was beyond me.

I plonked myself down on the bench and guzzled from a bottle of water, hoping it would shake off the dizziness. "You okay?" Hunter whispered.

I nodded. "Yep, just trying to evade them tearing me a new asshole," I replied.

Hunter growled. "Those guys are on you—hard. I feel like I'm playing chasey all night with how they're trying to keep you off goal. Not to mention, that ass is mine."

I bit back a grin as I gave him a playful elbow to his ribs.

Coach ran through a play refresh, adjusting the lines so Jarman and Hunter could tag team and work with Colton and I.

As we hit the ice, the change in lines rattled the opposition. They weren't expecting the switch-up. I won the faceoff, breaking away to score a goal and finally put a point on the board. However, the shift in lines led to miscommunication between Hunter and Colton which, resulted in Merrimack shooting their own goal. I took numerous shots, but the defense's focus on me prevented any successful contacts.

A rough hit from Zane left me rattled on the ice. His sneers mirrored those from before, but their impact was no longer the same. In truth, I had what he wanted—multiple things he wanted: the guy, and the game. I forced myself off the board and returned to the bench for the line change, watching as Amon and Mouse took a crack at the net.

"You okay, Aussie?" Hunter asked. "That was a big hit." I nodded, eyes following the puck like a dog playing fetch.

Baxter's hand on my shoulder captured my attention. "Need a concussion check? You were slow to get up."

He didn't have to ask; he could pull me from the game off that alone. "Nah mate, really, I'm fine. He winded me a little, is all."

Baxter studied my eyes, searching for any hint of a lie. Whatever he saw made his shoulders relax. "Okay, but if you have any signs, I need you to tell me, okay?"

I nodded, shaking off the voice in the back of my head that said I was taking a huge risk.

As the third period rolled around, it was make or break. The score stood at one-all, and our lines showed weariness from the relentless hits. We needed to muster every ounce of energy we had left so I boldly approached the heads of the team. "Coach?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"I need you to put Hunter back on my line." I got the whiteboard and drew out my idea, shifting the play away from the top shooters because they were on us like a huntsman in the dunny. "I don't think they'll anticipate it." I gestured out the play and watched as he considered it.

I let out a sigh of relief when he nodded. "Okay, but when I say so."