Chapter Twenty

IT TOOK a grueling seven games and two overtime periods for the Tulsa Phoenixes to upset the heavily favored Blackjacks and win the Western Conference. But with the matchup for the finals set, a schedule was finally released, and Ethan’s family was on their way from New York to Jacksonville.

Practices were intense, so Ethan didn’t have a lot of time to spend with his family. He couldn’t even pick them up from the airport and take them to their hotel. Luckily Riley had arranged for them to have a car—a convertible, which was awesome—for the duration of their stay. Rather than feeling sulky or bent out of shape about it, Ethan was just happy that he didn’t have to worry and that his family would be able to get around and do stuff while he was at practice.

Of course he was stupid for thinking they wouldn’t show up during practice. Technically the Storm had open practices, but hardly anyone ever wanted to sit through them. They weren’t that exciting and mostly consisted of Coach Spencer shouting and reminding them how, in the natural order of things, a sea storm would take out a stupid bird any day of the week. Based on their mascots alone, the Storm should win the game if the players would get it together already. Not exactly thrilling stuff to watch, but midway through shooting drills, Ethan heard an excited chatter of voices and looked up to see his mom and sisters standing by the boards and waving. They were holding signs—as if they couldn’t just lean over and talk to him.

“My family,” Ethan said, when Coach Spencer skated over and demanded to know who the fan club was and why the fuck they were a fan club for Kennedy, of all people.

Coach’s face relaxed into something less scowly. “Well, tell them to be quiet. Or to make signs to remind you to stop smoking.”

“Ethan,” his mother hissed. “Your sisters—”

“My turn,” Ethan said hurriedly. “Love you. Glad you’re here. Later.” He skated off quickly, ignoring the laughter of his teammates—who had of course heard the exchange.

Ethan’s only consolation was that his family had also brought signs for Riley. And Riley was so embarrassed when he saw them that Ethan, who gleefully pointed them out as he skated up the ice to take his turn shooting, managed to score a goal on Riley for the first time all season. Riley was not pleased. Ethan had a memory of being tied up with skate laces and wondered if they could do that again sometime soon. Maybe Ethan would ask his mom if he could borrow one of those signs. Ha.

Madison was also at practice. Ethan and Riley tried to explain hockey using the video game on the PlayStation 4, but Madison said that actual, real-life hockey players were more fun to watch. Besides, she’d said, Riley had cute teammates.

After practice Ethan’s family visited the pro store, and they all met Madison in the parking lot. Maura hugged Ethan and Riley enthusiastically. Then she turned to Madison and said, “Riley. Oh my goodness. Who is this lovely young lady? Is this your sister? She looks just like you.”

Riley was clearly happy to see the Kennedys, even if they were the reason Ethan had scored on him. He returned Maura’s hug and said, “Yes. This is my sister, Madison. Mads, this is Maura Kennedy. Ethan’s mom.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Madison said, extending a hand.

Maura used it to pull Madison in and hug her. “Oh. None of that. We’re practically family.” She introduced Madison to Ethan’s sisters Britt and Kelsey. The bemused look on Madison’s face was the same one Ethan had seen on Riley’s at the airport baggage carousel over Christmas. It made him happy to see his family doing their usual and pseudo-adopting people just because Ethan liked them.

Then they ran into Zoe and Ryan, and Ethan introduced them to his mom.

Ryan gallantly kissed Maura’s hand and asked Britt if he could get a few tattoos while she was there. Ethan knew Ryan was dumb in love with Zoe, but he still glared at him. Just like Ethan figured, his mom was enthralled by Zoe’s accent and immediately charmed when she learned Zoe was in charge of the hockey camp where Ethan had volunteered.

“Oh my God. Riley wasn’t kidding,” Zoe said, nudging Ethan slyly in the side. “Your sister really is hot. Wow.”

Ethan glared at her too. “Off-limits means teammates and their girlfriends, Mays.”

That night Ethan, Riley, Madison, the Kennedys, and practically everyone on their team went to dinner at Cruisers. Ethan noticed Bennett Halley sitting next to and talking to Madison. Riley should be keeping a better eye on that. It was a loud, boisterous evening, and while no one drank a thing—okay, maybe Ethan secretly had some whiskey with his sister—it was still a lot of fun. With the first game of the finals starting in two days, it was probably the last time they’d be able to relax for a while.

Madison had decided to move out of Riley and Ethan’s, and while Zoe sweetly offered to let her stay at her and Ryan’s, Madison had opted to stay in the same hotel as Ethan’s family. Ethan liked to think that his mom talked her into it, because it was clear his mom was determined to win Madison over.

She was quiet, like Riley, and a bit standoffish at first. But by the end of the evening, she looked less overwhelmed by the Kennedys and more at ease. She and Britt and Zoe were even exchanging numbers and Facebook profiles, or whatever the hell girls did, which made Ethan happy even if he didn’t quite trust Zoe’s intentions. But if Zoe wanted to hook up with Madison, Ethan would support that.

Ethan’s mom caught him smoking in the parking lot at Cruisers as they all went their separate ways for the evening, and Ethan endured the well-meaning-mom lecture with as much grace as possible—which happened to be a lot, since he was still so happy to see his family—and promised not to set a bad example by letting his sisters see him smoking.

“I like Riley’s sister,” Maura said when she was finished lecturing her son about smoking. “What a sweet girl. Did you know she went to Brown?”

He didn’t know that, but he wasn’t surprised that his mom did. She was good with people, and they immediately felt comfortable around her. Ethan wondered if he had inherited any of that from her. It made him feel warm and fuzzy to think about, but he saved saying it out loud for some time when he needed to get out of trouble. “I knew she went to college, but not where.”

“She’s very good at math. And accounting. Maybe she should teach Riley to balance his checkbook,” Maura said sternly, and Ethan wondered if Riley got that lecture while he got the smoking one. He didn’t point out that Riley’s checkbook didn’t need balancing, because the amount in there was always going to be more than Riley would spend. “I’m proud of you, honey,” his mom said and gave him a hug. “Everyone, even your coach, came up to tell me how much they liked you and what a good teammate you are. You know that means more to your mother than you winning any trophy. Don’t you?”

God, how had he lucked out so much in the family department? “Yeah. I know, Ma. I still want to win, though.” And he did suddenly, in a way he hadn’t really before. Sure, Ethan wanted to win games because hockey was more fun that way, but he’d never been as competitive as some of the other guys—definitely not like Riley—and was one of those genuinely irritating people who really just loved playing so much that the score didn’t matter at the end of the game. Or it didn’t matter enough to kill the enjoyment Ethan got out of playing. He should really remind himself of that the next time he wanted a cigarette.

But he wanted to win the finals more than he wanted to have fun, because he wanted to make his family proud of him. He wanted to be the champion they always believed he was. Even though it would never change their opinion of him one way or the other, Ethan wanted to win.

“Thanks, Ma. But I’m gonna be a Kelly Cup champion. Just watch. Me and Riley. And when we win? I’m gonna have a cigarette, and there’s nothing you can say about it.”

“Ethan,” his mother said, but she giggled and kissed him on the cheek. “Fine. I’ll have one with you. How’s that?”

“You’re a closet smoker,” he muttered, arm around her waist as they walked back to join the rest of his family. “But it’s a deal.”

THE TULSA Phoenixes were a tired but riled-up team, and after the Storm took the first game in Jacksonville, the Phoenixes won the second and sent the series to Tulsa tied at one game apiece.

The team’s name was confusing because there was also an ECHL team called the Phoenix Sunfires. The league was original like that. And it wasn’t until they were on their way to Oklahoma that the name of their opponents made any sense.

“That’s the third sign I’ve seen that tells you not to drive into a fire and to head away from smoke if you see it,” Sloany said, pointing out the bus window. “Do people in Oklahoma have a problem with that idea?”

“They have a lot of forest fires,” Becker said. When everyone looked at him, he shrugged. “I learned it playing Trivia Crack. Fuck off.”

“And they still need to be told to avoid driving into a fire? Really?”

“Maybe they come out of ashes. Yes? Like Phoenix. Is bird,” Vazov piped up from his seat behind Ethan.

“I thought Phoenix was in Arizona,” Becker said, scowling. “But I suck at that geography category, so I dunno.”

Ethan snorted a laugh and looked at Riley, who was in the seat across the aisle, pretending to be asleep. His mouth wasn’t open, and he wasn’t drooling and/or snoring, which was how everyone slept on a bus.

Riley was probably going over game footage in his head—footage he’d been watching almost obsessively at home—because the Storm had only played the Phoenixes twice during the regular season, and Riley hadn’t been in goal for either game. Vazov played in the first one, as it was early enough in the season to give him a start without fucking up points or playoff spots.

The second time Riley was serving his three-game scratch for fighting with Halley. Along with the Storm losing the second game of the finals, that made Riley more determined than ever to study the game footage so he didn’t make any costly mistakes. Ethan was glad Riley was so focused, but it seriously messed up his sex life. Ethan had a lot of restless energy and desperately needed sex to burn it off. Instead Riley suggested they go for a run. No way was that as much fun.

The series went the same way in Tulsa, with each team netting a win. They were well matched, and it was a fun series. Tulsa had a great enforcer named Nathan Kelly, and he and Ethan got in a fight practically every game. There was a lot of name calling, and while the teams didn’t fraternize between games, Ethan was sure that once the series was over, he and Kelly would probably meet up for a beer. The guy was also a much better skater than Ethan, and even scored goals sometimes. Coach Spencer told him that with a pointed look whenever he caught Ethan sneaking back into the hotel smelling like smoke.

It was also amazing to look up in the stands—usually from the bench or the penalty box—and see his family in their Kennedy jerseys, waving signs and cheering loudly whenever Ethan got in a fight. Whenever he made a save, they cheered for Riley too—which meant they cheered a lot. The games were incredibly low scoring. Riley stopped upward of thirty shots a night, and the Storm didn’t put up as many shots. They needed to start, because they were winning games by a single goal, and Spence spent most of his time during intermission and time-outs yelling “Get the goddamn puck to the motherfucking net already.”

Ethan and Halley got along better, and Halley appeared to be over his Angry Birds fixation, though he was still on his phone a lot. He smiled kind of dopily at it, which seemed less like “irritating video game” and more like “cute girl or guy.” Ethan teased him about having a girlfriend and grinned when Halley blushed and stammered something about how it was new and they’d just met. Ethan wished him luck and went back to cheerfully texting Riley ridiculous sex things. Because apparently his weird goalie boyfriend could deny himself road sex, but not suggestive text messages.

Ethan still refused to call it sexting.

The Storm won in Jacksonville, and they could have won the Kelly Cup in game six in Tulsa. But the Phoenixes didn’t want to see them lift the Cup on their home ice, and no one on the Storm could blame them. They all remembered watching the Renegades celebrate when they won the conference finals last year in the Storm’s arena. Game six was intense, with very little scoring and few penalties. Ethan didn’t even get in a fight. He spent most of the game on the bench, watching Riley play like a man possessed. That game went into double overtime, and it looked like it was heading into a third when a Tulsa player found the back of the net and sent the series back to Jacksonville tied at three games each.

The atmosphere for the finals was as electric as Ethan had ever seen it, and if he wasn’t playing a rivalry game in Madison Square Garden to a sold-out crowd, you couldn’t prove it by him. He and Riley hadn’t technically had sex the night before. They got themselves off, quickly and frantically, lying next to each other in bed, without touching or saying a single word. It was seriously weird, but hot too, and Ethan felt way better afterward and could at least fall asleep. But he was still keyed up.

The Phoenixes took an early lead, but the Storm evened the score, thanks to Halley. The teams went into the first period intermission tied, with one goal each. The second period remained scoreless, but not for lack of effort on the Phoenixes’ part. They outshot the Storm 13-6, and kept them pinned in their own zone for the majority of the period.

“Goddammit, boys. Hunter can’t win this goddamn game for you,” Spence yelled at them during the second intermission. “The puck. The net. Get it there. That’s all.”

It was a miracle that speech didn’t include any strange metaphors or violent imagery, but maybe that’s how they knew their coach was serious.

With the game still tied and four minutes left in the period, it looked like they were headed to overtime. Ethan got called for a totally bullshit penalty, and when he was sent to the box, he knew it wasn’t good for the team. With a one-man advantage, the Phoenixes would have more firepower and a greater chance of scoring. Given how well the goalies were playing the series, a lead with less than four minutes left would seem insurmountable, even if it was only one goal. And while the Storm weren’t as hemmed in their own zone as they’d been the period before, the shots were still firmly in the Phoenixes’ favor.

Ethan’s stomach dropped to his feet as he watched one of the Phoenixes’ forwards send a beautiful shot toward the net during the power play, but Riley flipped on his back and kept the puck out by kicking it with his leg.

The crowd—including Ethan, in the penalty box—went crazy. They showed a replay of Riley’s save on the screen, and Ethan was so turned on he would have blown Riley right there on the ice. No question. And he was pretty sure he wasn’t the only guy on the team who’d consider it. Fuck. That save was amazing.

The Storm couldn’t lose. Not after that. Ethan would make goddamn sure of it.

When the penalty box opened and Ethan went back on the ice, he skated like a madman toward the puck, grabbed it, and made a beeline for the Phoenixes’ goal. With one minute and three seconds left in the game, Ethan aimed and shot the puck with every ounce of determination in his soul—despite the burn in his lungs and the sweat stinging his eyes—and nearly fell down as something started flashing. For a minute he thought he’d lost consciousness, but then he realized what it was.

The goal light.

Two seconds later his teammates surrounded him.

He’d just scored a goal. No way. Ethan burst out laughing—though it was hard because he was so out of breath he was practically wheezing. On his way back to the bench, he saw his mom and his sisters in the stands. He grinned, flashed three fingers at them, and was pretty sure he saw his mom burst into tears. He might have too, but no one would ever notice under all the sweat.

“Ethan goddamn Kennedy,” Spence said, hitting him in the back of the head as Ethan sat down. “I swear on all that’s good and fucking true, I would give you a goddamn cigarette right now if I had one.”

Ethan laughed and then sat back and watched as the seconds counted down, one after the other, toward the end of the game. When the buzzer sounded and the Jacksonville Sea Storm converged on the ice to celebrate, they all swarmed Riley—because Ethan’s goal was the game winner, but Riley was the reason they had a championship.

And Ethan couldn’t be happier.