Tamara

Although I’d trained plenty of players, I’d never been one to watch hockey games. Not unless I was pulling tapes to analyze how the players skated so I could use the information during power skating drills. It had always been too difficult for me to turn off that part of my brain and just enjoy the game for what it was.

Having my boyfriend on the ice had changed that for me, though. Especially during the last month of playoff games, when I was too nervous to do anything but sit in the edge of my seat and pray that they pulled off another win so they didn’t get knocked out of the running for the championship.

“C’mon, get the puck out of there, Ryan. C’mon,” I chanted.

The opposing team was cycling the puck in our defensive end, and I had a bad feeling it wasn’t going to go well for us. The longer the puck stayed on our end of the ice, the more likely it was that they’d be able to score a goal against us.

“Shit.” I winced when Ryan slammed a player into the boards. I thought for sure that the ref was going to call him for a penalty, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I didn’t hear a whistle. But that feeling was short-lived when the other team got a shot off and the puck went flying past the goalie and into the net.

“Dammit,” I groaned.

Cee-Cee reached out and grabbed my hand, both of us looking up at the score board. With that goal, the Cavaliers were down by two with only three minutes left on the clock. Ryan and Jason skated back to the bench, while Alec and his line mate took their place in the defensive positions for the puck drop.

“Jason’s going to be so pissed at himself for not clearing the zone on that one,” Cee-Cee grumbled.

“Ryan isn’t going to be any happier.”

Cee-Cee and I had gotten to know each other well over the past couple of months, both professionally and personally. Some of the press she’d gotten for the team had bled over to me, and she’d also managed to snag me a sponsor for the Olympics next year. Between the money they’d committed to, what I’d earned with my win at the World Single Distance Championships, and the money I was earning from the Cavaliers, I was in a position where I didn’t have to worry about earning enough to make it to South Korea in February.

“I should have grabbed an extra beer when I had the chance,” I groaned. “I swear the game clock is running in slow motion.”

Cee-Cee’s hand clenched mine harder. “You don’t have room to complain too much. At least you had a few, right? This was not the night to stick to ginger ale. Alcohol would have helped with the stress.”

I gulped down the last of my beer. “It hasn’t done me much good.”

She released my hand to rub her belly. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

I tore my gaze away from the ice to look at her. “Wait a second. Why aren’t you drinking?”

“Umm,” she stuttered.

“They’ve been in close games before, and you’ve never mentioned anything about feeling sick to your stomach.”

“Well,” she drawled, her gaze sliding to the ice and back to me. “Can we pretend like you didn’t notice?”

“Pretend? Ohhhh,” I breathed as realization dawned. “Yes, that’s totally fine.”

I grabbed her hand and squeezed it, letting her know I got what she was saying and I was excited for her even though she hadn’t confirmed my suspicion.

“Win or lose, I can’t wait any longer,” she mumbled. “I put it off as long as I could because I didn’t want to do anything to mess with Jason’s head when it needs to be in the game. But I really want it to be something for just the two of us to share for a little while.”

I nodded. “I think you made the right call. If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about”—I tilted my head in her direction and offered her a gentle smile—“then it will be wonderful news to help ease the sting of what’s almost definitely going to be a loss.”

“I’m not confirming or denying anything, but I hope so,” she whispered.

“I know so,” I assured her. “It’s obvious to anyone who sees the two of you together for even a minute; that man loves you.”

Her lips tilted up in a dreamy smile, and she twisted her engagement ring around her finger. “I love him, too.”

“Trust me, your love for him is also obvious.”

“And I’m totally fine with that.” She grinned at me, shaking her head. “Because only love has the power to keep me in a relationship with a professional athlete. It’s so damn difficult sometimes, between the grueling schedule, road trips, and puck bunnies.”

“Tell me about it,” I snorted. “Just imagine how much harder it is when you’re both athletes with conflicting schedules.”

She slumped back in her seat. “I don’t know how you two manage to juggle all that you do.”

“Very carefully,” I murmured.

“Will you be able to stay in Chicago after the season is over?”

“The sponsor you lined up for me makes it a possibility, but Ryan and I haven’t had the chance to talk about it yet.” There was a big gap between dating exclusively and changing your entire life for a relationship, and I wasn’t sure if we’d reached the point where it made sense for me to make my move to Chicago permanent. The only thing I knew for sure was that I wasn’t excited by the idea of a long distance relationship.

“Well, if I get a vote, mine is for you to move here.”

A buzzer went off, and we both turned our attention back to the ice. The clock had only run down another minute, and the score was still the same. We’d missed a penalty against the other team while we chatted, and our guys were back on the ice again for a power play.

We were quickly pulled into the action as the seconds ticked down. The Cavaliers moved the puck from their defensive zone, past both of the blue lines, and cycled it around the net. One of the opposing team’s defenders got lucky and intercepted a pass between the forwards, but Jason stepped up and stole the puck back. He sent it across the ice to Ryan with a hard pass, and I jumped to my feet.

“C’mon, Ryan!” I screamed. “Use that slap shot of yours and score a goal!”

As though he’d heard what I’d yelled, his stick went up and then he pivoted forward and nailed the hell out of the puck. It went flying towards the net, sailing just over the goalie’s outstretched glove to crash into the back of the net. Cee-Cee and I jumped to our feet and hugged each other.

“He really is the slap shot king!” Cee-Cee cried.

“Hell yeah, he is.”

We stayed on our feet, along with the rest of the crowd, and watched as the ref dropped the puck. Our center got his stick on it first, and sent it back to Ryan. He cycled it to Jason, who sent it up to the right wing. The forward got a shot off, but the goalie deflected it and as it bounced towards our center’s stick the buzzer sounded.

“Damn,” I groaned.

“I’m not sure if it’s better or worse to lose in such a close game.”

I thought about how it felt when I raced. “In some ways, it’s worse because you know you were so close to that win.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Cee-Cee sighed as she dropped back down in her seat, tugging on my hand until I sat down too. “Okay, now that we talked about all my shit and have plenty of time to wait for the guys, how’re things going for you and Ryan?”

I fanned myself with my hand, my cheeks heating. “Considering what I promised him if he scored during the playoffs...things are about to get wild.”