Chapter 23

Wade

With only a few minutes left to win the game, I'm feeling pretty smug with myself.

I've played without starting or being in a fight on the ice. A few minor altercations, but nothing like I used to have.

The yoga keeps my mind in check.

While I felt pumped for the game tonight, I also felt oddly relaxed and in control.

It's a new but welcomed sensation I've yet to get comfortable with.

I finally feel like I'm breaking my bad habits.

I feel great.

Sweat drips off my forehead, down into my eyes, and off the tip of my nose. I can barely see. How the guys grow their hair long and grow a beard, and not find it annoying I will never understand.

I don't care that they all grow it as some sort of voodoo superstitious shit in case we don't win the cup. We win because we're the best team in the NHL, not because they don't cut their hair. Assholes.

I'm not superstitious, but since the day I started with the Eagles, I've had a photograph of Gretchen and me that, once we printed it off to frame, we realized we both had ladybugs sitting on our shoulders.

On my first game, Gretchen handed me the framed photo and told me ladybugs were a sign of good luck and it sort of became our thing.

Now she's gone, the photo makes me feel like she's with me at every game. And every time I see one, I get this weird feeling she's trying to send me a message that she's still watching over me.

I hope she is.

"Are you fucking her?" Breaking my thoughts, Zane yells in my ear as we are waiting for the referee to drop the puck.

"Who?" I shout through my mouthguard, kicking myself for acknowledging him and giving him an opening to trigger a conversation.

"Kali?"

"No." Where the hell did he get that idea from? Shit, I must be staring at her too much.

"She's wearing your jersey."

And there it is. I fucking knew he would bring that up.

Like a beacon of light shone down on her, she was the first thing I saw when I skated onto the ice. She's hosting Rory, his parents, along with two of his friends for me as part of this Make Wade Look Like a Good Guy campaign.

If anything, she's the one that looks good in my jersey. It's the one she slept in and folded neatly beside her dress and the beauty products I bought for her. When she picked her stuff up on Monday from my hotel suite, she didn't mention she was taking it. But she did, and I'm still trying to figure out if it means something.

And now she's standing in the arena that feels like home to me, watching my every move, wearing my jersey, styled in a way only she could.

Bunched to the side, she's tied it in a knot to cinch it around her waist, showing off her toned abs that I imagine running my tongue into the little divots of. And she's teamed it with a pair of snug gray joggers, hems rolled up above a pair of blue and yellow Nike high tops which look new and perfectly match our Eagle team colors.

She's a vision and I couldn't take my eyes off her when I went over to speak to Rory and his friends before the game.

Zero small talk, straight faced, she kept it professional and yelled through the plexiglass that I was doing a meet and greet afterward with Rory before I was able to do any post-game workouts and stretching.

Turning back to the annoying dickhead next to me, I spit my mouthguard out. "She's my publicist, Zane. Now focus on the game."

"I'd tap that."

Jealousy courses through my veins. "She wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole." I skate away, every muscle in my body burning.

"I'm not sure that's what she said when she slid into my DMs last night," he yells across the ice.

Rage poisons my veins, and I turn, pull off my gloves, and throw them down. Pushing forward in his direction faster than an Olympic speed skater, I roar, "What the fuck did you just say?"

The crowd jeers and boos from the seats behind Zane, and Jordy is crashing into me, getting up in my face before I even get to throw a punch.

"Not tonight. He's not worth it. He's trying to provoke you; can't you see that?" Jordy shouts in my face, sounding annoyed I didn't listen to him in the locker room.

"He…" My temples throb with rage. There is no way in hell Kali messaged him.

He acts as a barrier between Zane and me and yells back at Zane over his shoulder. "Be a good puppy and stay in your pen." Then Jordy grabs my face with his glove-covered hands. "Fuck him." He pushes me backward across the ice. "Let's win this."

Kali appears from behind a smirking Zane on the other side of the plastic wall. Shaking her head, she shouts a firm, "No," and I know what she means; don't ruin what we've started.

My rage simmers down in an instant. It's odd how much power she holds over me, and every time I see her, she makes me feel better. Calm.

I hold my stick up in acknowledgment, agreeing with her.

I can't let Zane get into my head. I can't go back to the way things were.

From the bench, Coach gives us a signaling nod of his head.

"He wants us to try that new pass." Jordy taps his stick on the ice a couple of times.

Coach knows we nailed it yesterday during training. "I'm ready." I push my mouthguard between lips, and then throw a wink at our captain, Spike.

"Then let's show them what we're made of." Jordy shoots off while I pick my gloves up and get my head back in the game, which is where it should have been this entire time.

The puck hits the ice, and Jordy and I are powering forward with only one purpose: control the puck to score the winning goal.

Quicker than I can snap my fingers, Jordy steals the puck from one of the Bears' players, and I'm right there with him to assist. Snaking between two of the best defensemen on the Bears, I do a three-sixty, surprising them with a broad smile as I turn in front of them and distract them, so they don't see what's coming.

Jordy zooms in front of me, and I break away in a sneaky move so fast, they don't see him passing me the puck.

Sweat oozing from every pore, adrenaline rushing through my bloodstream as I power forward, I head straight for the end zone. Determination and passion overriding any ounce of fatigue I was feeling, I flick the puck backward between my legs in an unexpected move, but Jordy's right there to block it, and with all the velocity of the sound of light, he flicks it to Spike, who passes it back to me on the blue line, and I unleash a one hundred mile an hour slapper when I draw back my stick and I take the shot, aiming for the tight space between the goalie and the top left hand corner of the net.

A heartbeat apart, the goal horn blares then the Klaxon blasts through the arena confirming we won and scored with less than a second to spare, and it's game over for the Bears.

"Bring it," I yell at the top of my lungs, raising my hands over my head as I shake my stick in the air.

Chest heaving, I'm being jumped on from behind by my teammates. Each one of us crashing into one another as we form a giant ball of celebration, while the fans whoop and cheer as if trying to deafen us.

I remember this is why I play hockey. For the team spirit, the feeling of being part of something greater than me, for the rush. Something I haven't felt in over a year. "I fucking love you guys," I roar as they continue to slap my helmet and swaddle me.

"Feeling sentimental?" Spike does a slow-motion punch to my jaw.

"Yeah." I wipe my nose, pretending it's the sweat pouring down my face and not from the tears that have leaked from my eyes.

Why the hell am I feeling so emotional?

"Best game you've played in months, man. Keep up the good work." Spike pulls me into a big bear hug.

This feels good. I slap his back twice in a brotherly-love way.

I guess all I ever wanted was to feel good enough, something I haven't felt in what feels like forever.

As we separate from each other, I drive off, powering down the ice in Kali's direction to find her bouncing up and down, clapping her ass off and chanting my name over and over in time with Rory and his two friends.

I spit out my mouthguard and flip the Perspex eye protector up on my helmet. "Did you see that?" I look at Rory, then flick my eyes to her.

"Hell, yeah, we did, didn't we boys?" Kali continues to clap, looking every bit like my girlfriend, making me feel weak at the knees and not from the lead weight fatigue currently attacking my body. It's how good she looks wearing my name and number. She's never worn my jersey to any of the previous games.

The three kids scream a loud "yes" in harmony, sounding like the cat's choir and it makes me laugh at how few front teeth they have between them, but how excited they are about everything. "Meet me round the back in ten." I point to Rory and then wave at his parents.

"I'll escort them," Kali jumps in, thumbing over her shoulder at the two security guards standing behind her that I recognize from the sneaker store. Surrounded by fans wanting selfies and autographs, it's lucky she brought them, or she would have been swamped. It's weird having someone in my life who is more famous than me. I like it because it takes the attention and focus off of me most of the time, which is a bonus.

I jut my jaw out in acknowledgment, trying to play it cool, although secretly excited that I get to see her properly for the first time in days.

Maybe she's finally talking to me again.

I hope she is.

I miss her.