Chapter 24

The next day nine players are cut from the roster, sent down to the farm team in Rockford, most of which are not a surprise. I’m happy I’m not one of them, but I’m feeling pretty confident, especially after how I played last night, with two assists and a goal, and I find myself pleased that young guns Jacob and Ben are hanging in there.

Every team has to have its opening day roster set by October 9 this year, which is two weeks away. I’ll get a few preseason games under my belt, more chances to show the coaches and management I’ve still got something to offer. I had a meeting with Coach the other day and he sounded pretty positive and encouraging, also happy that I’m back. So there’s that.

Training camp continues with on-ice drills and off-ice workouts, as well as exhibition games. I travel to Boston for a game. It’s a crazy game with our goalie prospect playing. Since that first game when he let in six goals, he’s been outstanding. He’s young, but I remember him from other training camps, so this isn’t his first time here. He’s been playing in Rockford the past few years. The team obviously sees something in him, and keep playing him in the preseason games, and the media is going crazy over him. He won’t make the team this year; our two goalies, Brent Stoyko and Oleg Boyarov, have those positions nailed down. But it’s good to know our goaltending future is bright.

More players are cut, including Flash and Buck, who decide to go back to play another year of college hockey. I say goodbye to them with regret but confidence, knowing they’ll be back. I think they’re making the right decision. They’re talented, but they’ll develop more in college. It means a lot to me when they both thank me for the guidance I gave them over the summer.

And then it’s October 9. Two more cuts are announced and we have our final roster.

I did it.

It feels a little anticlimactic, in a way. When I started working out with Greg months ago, I was full of doubts about my ability to come back. I was out of shape and coming out of a depression. There were lots of moments my body failed and my mind fucked me over, but gradually my confidence grew, and since I’ve been here at camp, I started to feel more sure of myself. I’m not a rookie. I’ve got experience. I’m strong now. And I’ve got fuckloads of talent.

Ha. I make myself laugh. I’ve been missing that cocky edge for a while now.

Anyway, the past couple weeks I’ve felt a lot better about my chances of making the team and now that I’ve done it, it’s definitely satisfying and a bit of a relief, but in all honesty not a huge shocker.

I could have done this myself. But having Kendra’s unwavering support and belief in me sure as hell didn’t hurt.

Can’t wait to tell her.

We Skype that night.

“Hey, gorgeous.” I adjust the screen on my laptop. “Great news. The last players were cut from the roster today.”

She nods, her eyebrows lifting expectantly.

“And it wasn’t me.”

I expect more reaction from her, but her slow smile as she leans forward, her face growing bigger on my screen, is not surprised. “Of course it wasn’t.”

I smile back. “You could sound more excited.”

“I am excited. But I’m not surprised. I knew you would do it.”

“Thanks, babe. And I mean that…seriously. Thank you for being so sure of that.”

She tilts her head, her eyes warm. I wish I could put my hands on her. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. How was your day?”

“Better now. Stressful day.”

“Uh-oh. Problems in the Land of O?”

She laughs. “Yeah. The new bullet. We’re having second thoughts about trying to develop one. The list of specs we want is going to make it too high priced to be attractive, when it’s such a small vibe.”

“Huh. That sucks. Need some Caramel Crackle ice cream?”

“No. I need an orgasm.”

I grin. “That’s my girl.”

“Orgasms are good for stress. Have I ever told you all the health benefits of orgasms?”

“Um. No. But I’m totally on board with that. And I want to make you very, very healthy.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m giving that way.”

She gives me a naughty smile. “I know. And I appreciate it. Although, playing in the lady garden alone is also good.”

I choke. “Lady garden?”

She laughs softly. “Whatever you want to call it. Finger painting. Diddling Miss Daisy. DJ Pink spinning the tiny turntable.”

I fall back into my couch, laughing so hard my abs hurt. “Jesus Christ.”

“Hey, we talk about these things at our business meetings.”

I imagine a group of women gathered around a boardroom table seriously talking about names for female masturbation. “I so wanna be at your meetings.”

She grins. “Sure. Anytime.” She pauses. “I’m coming to Chicago tomorrow night.”

I sit forward. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Your first game is Thursday night. I’m going to be there.”

“Fuck, yeah.”

This is excellent. I’m so pumped.

The season opener is always a special game, especially when you’re lucky enough to play it at home. Sure, there’s pressure. The expectations of the fans are huge. We expect a lot of ourselves, too. The fans are hungry for hockey after the summer, and the players are itching to get back to it, also. The possibilities of the season stretch out before us.

During the warm-up, my eye is caught by someone with a big orange sign at the glass that says WELCOME BACK HALLSY. A couple kids are holding it. They’re wearing Aces jerseys and they start literally jumping up and down when I skate over and flick a couple pucks over the glass for them. Their joy is nothing compared to mine, though.

Because it’s the season opener, there’s a big production at the start of the game. The players are introduced like we’re rock stars. They announce us in numerical order. I’m number eleven so I don’t have to wait long, shifting from skate to skate as the other guys walk through the tunnel, bumping gloves with some fans lined up there, then skate onto the ice to sirens and pumping music, strobe lights illuminating the fog swirling around them. Then it’s my turn and I step onto the ice, lifting my stick to the crowd. I skate past the team photographer on the ice whose flash is nearly fucking blinding me, and join the other guys forming a circle around the Aces logo at center ice.

The announcer introduces the guys who aren’t playing, and they wave from where they’re standing at the bench. Also introduced are the medical staff and all the coaches. The crowd is cheering, everyone with white glowsticks creating a shifting pattern of light in the crowd along with the spotlights circling over the ice.

“Ladies and gentlemen…yooooour Chicago Aaaaaces!”

Standing in the circle, we lift our sticks to show our appreciation of our fans.

Then our opponents tonight come skating on and we leave center ice and start doing laps around our end, lights still flashing, people still applauding.

“Here’s tonight’s Chicago Aces starting lineup,” the announcer booms. “Brought to you by Pinnacle Insurance.” The little hockey player who’s been picked to accompany us tonight joins us in our laps, carrying the flag with the Aces logo.

“Staaaaarting at center…number twenty-seven, Eriiiiic Baaarclay!”

The crowd cheers.

“Ooooon left wing…number eleven…Maaaax Haaaall!”

I’m stunned when the arena erupts in even louder applause and more cheers, everyone on their feet. Jesus. I feel like I swallowed a hockey puck as I glide over the ice to line up on the blue line. I duck my head because my eyes are stinging. Holy shit. My heart is thundering. How the hell am I gonna focus now?

I don’t even hear the rest of the lineup being announced, though I know who it is…Nicky playing right wing, Benny and Rosser on defense, Stoykers in goal. I have the national anthem to compose myself, sliding my skates back and forth, head bowed, trying to control my racing heart. Wow. I’m just…blown away.

I have to control that adrenaline and put all that aside as we get ready for the opening faceoff, and I just focus on Rico as he neatly wins the faceoff and gets the puck to Nicky. And we’re off.

I wish I could say it feels like I’d never been away.

Unfortunately, that’s not the case. No matter the preseason games and all the workouts, there’s nothing like playing a real, regular season game with all the adrenaline and pressure and fuck, some of those longer shifts tested my endurance.

The game is fucking fast.

I’m doing okay, but I know I can do better.

And I will.

We’re leading four-three. There’s excitement in the last minutes of the game with the Bruins goalie on the bench for the extra attacker, and they’re pressing hard. A couple amazing saves by Stoykers keeps them from tying it up and when the horn blows to sound the end of the game, I’m ready to drop to the ice. The win feels good, though, and it’s exhilarating to skate up to Stoykers and bump buckets to congratulate him on the win.

The mood is upbeat in the dressing room, although I’m a sweaty, limp mess. I sit on the bench in front of my cubby for long moments, guzzling down Gatorade while the guys celebrate the win with jokes and trash talk.

Damn, I love this.

We talk to the media. A bunch of reporters want to talk to me about my first game back and how it felt. Eventually I shower and dress. Some of the guys are going out, others are just going home with their wives who are here tonight. I find Kendra with Lovey and Amber and the other wives and girlfriends in the Aces Ladies lounge. They’re all smiles, too, at the win.

“Congratulations.” Kendra throws her arms around me. “How did it feel?”

I shake my head. “Christ. I’ll get there.”

She tips her head to one side, her eyes softening. “You played great.”

“Thanks.” I brush a kiss over her mouth. “I don’t think I totally humiliated myself.” I give her a wry smile.

“You were amazing. And…” She blinks a few times. “When they announced you on the starting lineup and everyone cheered like that…I-I started crying.”

“I damn near did, too.” I cup her face. “That was pretty fucking amazing.”

“They love you,” she whispers. “You belong here.”

We smile at each other for a moment, then I take her hand and lead her out. We wave goodnight to the others and make our way out of the arena and to the private parking area for the Aces players.

On the way home, I keep yakking about the game. When I realize what I’m doing, I stop and say, “Sorry. This is probably boring the hell out of you.”

“No way! I love hearing about the game from your perspective. It’s so cool.”

“Oh. Okay. But stop me if you’ve had enough.”

“I love seeing you like this. In your element. So passionate. So talented.”

“Also handsome and ripped.”

She laughs. “Yeah. That, too.” She reaches over and squeezes my forearm.

Once more I feel so goddamn lucky to have her in my life. She’s really interested in hearing what I have to say about the game and what we did well and how we could have been better and how much it pissed me off when the refs missed that high stick on Duper.

We walk into my condo, and the scent of food has me nearly reeling. Fuck, that smells good!

“What is that?” Nose in the air, sniffing like a dog, I follow the scent to the kitchen. I stand and stare at the spread of food on the counter.

“All the things you wanted after your first game. Hot dogs—Chicago style. Deep dish pizza.” She throws open the fridge door to reveal a six-pack of Goose Island IPA. My jaw drops. “And…” She holds up a can of spray cheese with a grin.

“Shit.” I grab the can from her, pop the lid off, and tip my head back to squirt some in my mouth.

She laughs with delight, pulling two beers out of the fridge. “You don’t have to eat and drink it all. You’d probably puke after eating so healthy for months and months. But I thought you’d enjoy a taste of all the forbidden fruits.”

“I’m nearly drooling.” I take the beer from her. “Jesus. Thank you.”

She’s so thoughtful it nearly makes me weep. Or maybe it’s the Chicago-style dog that’s making me weep. I haven’t had one in so long…Hell, yeah, I devour the whole thing, dripping relish unashamedly. After that, I can only manage one piece of the deep dish pizza. I am able to down two delicious, cold beers.

Then I stretch out on the couch, patting my full belly. “Damn, that was good.”

Kendra curls up beside me. “I’m glad. You deserve it.” She bites her lip. “You don’t feel guilty, do you?”

“Nope. Not one little bit. I worked my ass off for that.” I shrug. “One day of junk food won’t kill me. But I have to say, I like how I feel with that new eating plan, so I think I’ll stick with it. Mostly. There’ll still be cheat days.”

“Thank God.”

I nudge her. “Admit it. You like eating that healthy stuff.”

“I guess. But I still need Caramel Crackle ice cream sometimes.”

Emotion fills my chest and I reach for her and lift her onto my lap. She squeaks and sets her hands on my chest. “I’ll give you Caramel Crackle ice cream. And Chicago-style popcorn. And whatever the hell you want for the rest of your life.”

Her eyes widen and her bottom lip quivers. “Oh, Max.” She pauses. “I want a puppy.”

I choke. “What?”

“You said you wanted one, too.”

“Uh…yeah. Well. Hell.” I just promised her whatever she wants. “Move in with me, then.”

She frowns. “I can’t move in with you. It’s way too soon. We haven’t even figured out how we’re going to do this.”

I lift my chin. “Then no puppy.”

She smiles, a sweet, sexy curve of her lips. “Are you bribing me?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

“I’m not saying I’ll never move in with you.” She kisses my jaw. “Just not right away.”

My heart swells big and hot in my chest. “Christ, I love you.”

She presses a kiss to my throat. “I love you, too. Guess I’m officially a puck bunny now, huh?”

He gives a low laugh. “As long as you’re my puck bunny.”

“All yours, hockey dude. You can show me your big stick anytime.”

I grin. “I do like to score more than once a night.”

“I approve of that, as long as it’s with me.”

“There are other things I’m good at…”

“Mmm?”

“Putting it in the slot. Stick handling.” I pause. “Penetrating the crease.”

Her eyes widen. “Oooh. You dirty player, you.”

I grin.

“I love it.”

“I know you do.” And I kiss her again.