Page 46 of Make Us Yours
Of course, Pretty Boy. Of course.
Me
Win the game, and we’ll see how thingsplay out after.
Husband #1
Fuck yeah!
Husband #2
Thank you, Kitten.
NOAH
I glance at the clock. Nine minutes and fifty-seven seconds left.We’ve fucking got this.Turning my focus back to the game, I catch the Ranchers’ right winger racing down the ice with the puck, heading for me. I already know what he’s going to do and prepare for it.
At this point, they all feel their loss coming and aren’t playing strategically anymore. They’ll take whatever shot they can and hope luck is on their side. It’s fucking stupid if you ask me and a big mistake that won’t win them any points.
Time slows as I watch him lift his stick before bringing it back down to the ice, aiming for Ellis’s five-hole.Second mistake.If this idiot was thinking clearly, he’d know Gabe is amazing at blocking his five-hole, certainly when he’s not moving. He shoots the puck as I quickly move into its trajectory, pushing the end of my stick forward at the perfect second to deflect the puck toward Olchkov, my defense partner, who slaps it back down the ice and out of our zone.
Olchkov laughs, his deep Russian accent coming through as the wingers and centers skate after the puck where Clay catches it once it hits the offensive zone. “Feels like we’re playing against rookies tonight.”
I chuckle along with him. “Couldn’t agree more.” He’s right, I’m not sure what’s up with the Ranchers tonight, but they aren’t playing as well as they have these past few games. Although they’re definitely bringing out the physical game.
As if hearing my thoughts, I spot Greyson being thrown down by the asshole, Eric Gale, who lands right on top of him. But if you ask me, it looks like it was purposely done and most likely is knowing him. Everything from there happensquickly, Ford finally gets back to his skates and chases after him, sending Gale flying into the boards.
“Ah fuck…” I groan, knowing Grey will get in shit for that, and skate forward slowly, wondering if we should interfere. I don’t normally get involved with fights and stick by Ellis unless I’m personally aimed, but with this team things often get out of hand to the point where everyone jumps in.
I watch the two battle it out on the ground, blood splattering over the ice until finally they’re pulled apart, and I see Ford being pulled over to the penalty bench with a wide grin on his face. “About fucking time!” I shout at him with a laugh as the crowd cheers and Gale gets taken off the ice, blood pissing from his nose.
The play starts up again and the Ranchers are instantly aggressive with every hit as they try once more to score a goal, while Olchkov and I attempt to send the puck back the other way. We’re all in each other’s faces, bumping into one another while trying to get a hold of the puck when finally, Ellis covers it with his glove in the crease.
I expect the whistle to be blown by the ref immediately, but it doesn’t come and our opponents keep jabbing at Gabe’s glove with their sticks, trying to free the puck. “Digging!” I call out, hoping to wake up the ref from whatever the fuck he’s doing and stop the play.
Finally, the whistle blows and we all move back, but of course, the Ranchers aren’t having it and one of the fuckers purposely bumps into Gabe. Within a split second, I’m up right behind him and shoving him to the ground. “DON’T FUCKING TOUCH THE GOALIE!” I yell aggressively and the whistle goes off once more.
“He’s lucky you got to him before I did.” Olchkov chuckles as we bump fists on my way to the penalty box along with the shit head who started it.
I plop down next to Ford who’s almost done with his two-minute. “Good job on Gale. It was time someone put the asshole in his place,” I tell him.
He laughs. “Surprised I only got a minor for that one.”
“Nah, everyone knows he started that shit and fucking deserved it.”
“Well, thanks.” He stands and pats my shoulder, ready to get back out there now that his time is up. “And great job on defending our guard dog.” He salutes me before skating off.
The next few minutes pass by in a blink with only thirty seconds remaining on the clock. We still have a nine-to-four lead, which if you ask me is unbelievable certainly in the playoffs, but as I said, they’ve been playing like rookies all night. The girls are already all standing in their seats, clapping hands and cheering for what’s about tohappen the instant it hits zero.
Gabe laughs his head off while the play is in the offensive zone. “We fucking did it! Holy shit, we fucking won!” he shouts, the widest grin plastered over his face as I look over my shoulder and find him moving around and wiggling his ass. “Come on, Adler! This deserves a victory dance!”
I shake my head at him despite the grin I carry and join in, moving my hips as Olchkov does the same a second later. I’m sure we look like idiots, but Gabe’s right, this deserves a victory dance.
Finally, the buzzer goes off and the crowd goes wild. Gabe quickly leaves his post and tackles me into a bear hug, Olchkov doing the same as the rest of our team jumps over the boards in front of the players bench and skate our way with Ford, Burkley, and Hayes. Soon, we’re a huge pile of hockey players on the ground, all laughing and shouting, unable to believe what just happened.
That we finally took the Stanley Cup home.
From there it’s all a blur of congratulations and cheers as the cup is brought out and we all get a chance to hold it. The families and friends then join the ice, and hugs are passed all around while others take picture with the cup. I spot Veronica congratulating the guys through the crowd and begin skating over to her, but Gabe beats me to it and whisks her off her feet from behind, doing a little circle around the rink as she laughs away.
