Chapter 9

Asher

The moment I step off the plane, Seattle's energy gets me fired up for the game. The bustling airport is filled with the chatter of people and the hum of activity.

My team and I make our way through the terminal, my senses on high alert as I take in the vibrant colors, the laughter, and the distant blare of car horns outside.

"Man, you ready for tonight?" Dakota asks, as he bumps my shoulder while we’re walking into the hotel.

"Yeah, I’m pumped and itching to get on the ice," I reply.

"Seattle does have a certain charm to it," Ryder muses. "But we've got a job to do here, we all got to remember that. Don’t let the travel be a distraction."

"That’s right," I nod, my mind flashing back to our ultimate goal – the championship cup. It's not about winning for ourselves; it's about proving our worth to everyone who's ever doubted us.

"Let's get settled in," Kaleb suggests. "We've got a big game ahead of us."

As we make our way to our rooms, I focus on the task at hand – preparing for the game.

After we drop our bags off at the hotel, we’re served lunch and we take our pregame naps. Then we are shuttled to the ice rink for the game.

On the bus ride there, I pull out my phone and send a text to Elle.

Me: Game prediction?

Her response comes quickly, making me smile.

Elle: You guys will win. I can feel it.

Me: Thanks! See you soon.

I close my eyes and imagine the ice beneath my skates, the weight of the stick in my hands, and the sound of the puck gliding across the rink. Every fiber of my being is restless to play at my absolute best.

"Alright, boys," Ryder says.

I open my eyes and meet the steady gazes of my teammates all around the bus.

"Let's get ready to show them what the Charleston Renegades are made of," he continues.

With nods and murmurs of agreement, we unload from the bus and each turn to our own pre-game routines – stretching, taping up our sticks, and putting on our gear.

I lace up my skates and think about Elle's faith in us – her belief that we can win. It adds fuel to the fire that's been burning inside me since the season began, and I know that nothing will stand in our way.

"Let's do this," I say, looking around at my teammates, their faces as determined as I am.

"Let's make it count," Dakota agrees.

We don’t just step out onto the ice. No, we are the enemy here. The ones who have come to conquer the win. So, each step and skate are with a determined glide to show the opponent that we’ve come to play and we mean business. The roar of the crowd is almost deafening, but it pumps the blood faster through my veins. My senses are heightened; the coolness of the ice beneath my skates, the sound of my heartbeat in my ears, and the smell of the mixtures that all makeup game time.

"Game on!" the ref shouts, and the moment the puck drops, it's as if everything else fades away. It's just the ice, the puck, and us – my teammates and me, moving like a well-oiled machine.

Our first goal comes quickly, with Kaleb making a calculated pass to Dakota, who sends the puck soaring into the net. The crowd actually quietens down from the enemy scoring, the silence resonating through the arena and fueling our adrenaline. We fist bump and exchange grins before getting back into position for the next faceoff.

The game gets grittier as both teams push harder, each trying to gain the upper hand. But we're relentless, working seamlessly to defend our zone and create opportunities for new plays.

"Jet, I'm open!" Ryder calls out, and I make a quick decision, passing him the puck with precision. He takes the shot, and once again, the puck finds its way past the goalie and into the net. The crowd goes silent again, and I chuckle as we celebrate the goal.

"Nice pass, Asher!" Ryder exclaims, and we share a quick smile before returning to our positions.

Every play we make, every strategic move and display of skill, is met with moans and boos from Seattle’s fans. It's as if their negative energy courses through us, giving us the strength to keep pushing forward.

"Keep up the pressure, boys!" I shout as the clock winds down to its last minute.

"Let's finish this!" Kaleb adds, his voice full of conviction.

We give it our all until the final buzzer sounds. The crowd un-excitedly claps, just as if it’s the right thing to do because they really don’t know what to do since their team lost.

"Great game, men!" Dakota yells, patting our backs as we skate off the ice. We've done it. We've won the game.

We head back to the locker room, and Elle pops back into my head. She's been my good luck charm these past few games, and I'm starting to believe that her pre-game texts are a vital part of my ritual.

"Hey, Jet, what's got you smiling?" Kaleb asks, noticing my grin as we sit on the benches, peeling off our gear.

"Elle," I say simply. "She texted me before the game, predicting we would win. And look what happened."

"Ah, a woman's intuition," Ryder chimes in, his voice dripping with humor. "Maybe she should join the coaching staff."

"Or maybe she's just really lucky," Dakota adds, winking at me.

I laugh, shaking my head at their teasing. Grabbing my phone from my bag, I quickly type out a message to Elle.

Me: Hey, gypsy girl. You were right again – we won! Your pre-game texts are officially part of my ritual now. ?? Can't wait to see you when I get back to Love Beach.??