Chapter Twenty-One

 

Breathe.

Focus.

Breathe.

Shannon rolled her head from side-to-side, shrugged the tension from her shoulders. This was just a game, like every other game she had ever played in since she was six years old. Nothing in her routine should change. It couldn't change, not if she wanted to be ready.

She could do this.

They could do this.

She opened her eyes, looked down at the small rubber balls cupped in her hand. One more deep breath then she tossed the first one against the wall. The second. The third. Watching as they bounced off the painted concrete, arcing through the air toward her.

One. Two. Three.

She batted each one as it moved closer, fast. Faster. Over and over, her gaze focused on the movement of each rubber ball, anticipating, breathing, focusing. Finding her zone, settling into it.

Faster still, until each swipe of her hand came automatically, all thought gone, trusting only her instinct.

Thwap. Thwap. Thwap.

Thwapthwapthwap.

Deep breaths, her heart rate slowing as she changed the rhythm of each swipe. High. Low. Stepping away from the wall, then moving closer. Always watching. Always anticipating.

Slower now, nice and steady. Slower still until she caught each ball with her hand. One. Two. Three.

She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, let her head hang down. Relaxed. Free of the tension that had been gripping her since this morning.

Free of all thought except for the game that was due to start in fifteen minutes.

Just another game. Just like every other game she had ever played in.

She pressed a hand against her stomach, pushing away the tangle of nerves that wanted to resurface, just like she pushed away the negative thoughts threatening to surface.

She tossed the balls into her small duffel then sat cross-legged on the floor, hands resting, palm up, on her knees. A few more minutes to meditate, to focus, to go deeper into the zone. Just a few more minutes...

Footsteps echoed along the tile floor, hesitated then moved closer. Shannon blew out a heavy breath then opened her eyes, raised her brows in Taylor's direction.

"Yeah?"

"It's about time."

A burst of nerves fluttered in her stomach. Dammit. She didn't need the nerves, not now. None of them did.

She swore again then pushed to her feet. "How crowded is it?"

That question had been on her mind all morning. Hell, it had been on her mind all week. She wasn't the only one wondering about it, either. Yes, this exhibition game was a great opportunity for the Blades, for the entire league—but only if people actually showed up.

Taylor shrugged. "I haven't looked."

"What? Why not?"

"I'm afraid to." Taylor made the admission with a small grin, like she was trying to play it off. But Shannon knew her too well, could feel the tension and worry radiating from her. Taylor was nervous? She wasn't sure what to make of that, wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

"Well, fuck them then. They don't know what they're missing."

Taylor laughed then clapped her on the shoulder. "You're right."

"Damn straight, I'm right."

"You ready?"

Shannon opened her mouth, ready to say as ready as I'll ever be. But she couldn't say that—she never said that. It wasn't her, wasn't who she was. So she forced a confident smile she didn't quite feel and nodded. "Abso-fucking-lutely."

Then it was time to head to the locker room, time to finish gearing up. Coach Reynolds came in, gave them her usual rah-rah speech, pumping them up. And they were pumped up, every single one of them, despite the tension and nervousness that hovered around them.

They moved out to the hall and into the tunnel, listening to the heavy beat of rock music as the announcer introduced the Banners. Loud cheers greeted each name, echoing off the ice.

Shannon exchanged a surprised glance with Taylor at the noise level. How many people were out there?

Definitely more than the Blades usually played in front of.

Sammie groaned and grabbed Shannon's shoulder, dropping her head against the pads. "OhmyGod. Holy crappola. I think I need to pee." It was what Sammie said before every game, part of a ritual that had become ingrained in them since their very first game.

Shannon tapped her on the leg with the flat of her stick and grinned, just like she always did. The familiar words fell from her mouth, filled with a hint of laughter—just like always.

"It's a little late for that."

And it was, because the announcer's voice boomed through the arena. "Ladies and gentleman, the...Chesapeake...Blades!"

Holy shit, the applause was nearly as loud for them as it had been for the Banners. Shannon closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing her stomach to settle as each player was introduced.

Taylor. Dani. Maddison.

Sammie. Rachel.

One by one, until Shannon was next in line.

"And in net, number thirty-seven, Shannon Wiley!"

Shannon pushed through, hit the ice with a smooth stride, the stick raised over her head in greeting as she moved toward the net. And holy shit, the place was packed. Not completely filled, but still more crowded than she had anticipated.

More crowded than she had hoped.

She moved into position, crouching low, bouncing on her skates as she slid her stick across the ice in a wide arc, tapping each post twice. Her gaze moved over to the players' benches then slid toward center ice. Dani was taking the face off, lined up against Hunter Billings from the Banners. Even from here, she could see the grin on the man's face—on the faces of all the Banners. This was nothing to them but a light-hearted game. All of them probably thought it would be child's play, that they'd win without even trying.

Was Caleb thinking the same thing?

She sought him out with her gaze, noticed the way he was positioned on the ice. Standing straight up, his weight on his right leg. Casual. Relaxed.

Yes, even Caleb thought this was going to be an easy win, no matter how many times she had told him otherwise.

Fine, let him think that. Let all of them think that. They were about to find out otherwise.

Would the Blades win? Maybe. Maybe not. But they sure as hell were going to try.

The puck finally dropped. Hunter reached out with his stick, the move almost nonchalant, like it was a given that the Banners would win the face off. But the puck was already sliding across the ice, hitting Taylor's tape dead-center before she spun around and moved toward the Banners' net.

Shannon almost laughed at the expressions on the men's faces. Had they really thought the Blades were going to make this easy for them?

Aw, hell no.

Shannon relaxed, just a for a second, as she watched the play unfold as they had planned. Taylor slowed down, turned and made a big show of looking around, like she was searching for someone to pass the puck to. Jordyn slid in closer, stumbled, nearly fell. The Banner who had been following her reached out like he was going to catch her, like he was afraid she might actually fall.

Instead, Jordyn casually slid the blade of her stick in front of his left skate, sending him flying to his knees—just as Taylor passed the puck on her direction.

Shannon glanced over at the Banners' bench, saw the surprise on half a dozen faces as Jordyn skated behind the net for a beautiful wrap-around. Connelly wasn't even looking, his gaze directed on the spot where Jordyn had been a few seconds before.

A second later, the red light flashed above the net and the horn blared. Twenty-eight seconds in, and the Blades had scored their first goal. Shannon almost wished they had waited, that they'd taken more time to lull the guys into a false sense of security. Then again, maybe they'd think it was just a fluke and continue to underestimate them.

Shannon's gaze moved across the ice, finally resting on Caleb. He turned toward her, his green eyes flashing with an intensity she could feel even from this distance. Was he surprised? Maybe. Did he think it was a fluke?

Probably.

Did she care?

Abso-fucking-lutely not.

Caleb reached out and snagged Jaxon Miller's sleeve, leaned in to say something. Both men looked over at her, then Caleb finally raised his stick, waist-level, and pointed it at her with a crooked smile.

Was that supposed to worry her? Not even close. And if that's what he thought, then shame on him.

Shannon tipped her helmet back, her gaze never leaving his. Then she nodded and pointed her stick right back at him.

Game on.