Page 61 of Oh, Puck!
Holy fuck.
"WE HAVE FANS!" Beck screams as he tears past me, arms thrown wide like he's trying to embrace the entire arena. "DEC! WE HAVEFANS!"
"Just don't go making out with any of them when you score!" I shout after him.
He flips me off without slowing down, and I laugh, a proper one, ripped right out of my chest.
I do another slow lap, and I can't stoplooking.
The color. The roar. The way the whole building feels like it's vibrating, alive, electric. There's a current running through the place, and somehow I'm plugged right into it, my blood pumping, my skin buzzing.
Isthisit?
Is this what it's supposed to feel like?
All those years grinding, all those games in half-empty rinks, all that pressure and weight and responsibility… and somewhere in the middle of it I forgot.
I forgot thefeeling. The reason any of us laced up in the first place.
I haven't felt it in years.
And now it's pouring back into me all at once.
The horn sounds. Warm-ups end. The teams skate to their benches.
I take my spot at center ice as the ref glides in, puck in hand, and the opposition center lines up across from me. The crowd's chant builds—BEARS, BEARS, BEARS—pounding through the arena like a heartbeat.
"A clean game!" The ref holds up the puck.
And just before it drops, my eyes flick up.
To the VIP box on the mezzanine.
Josie's standing at the very edge of it, both hands gripping the rail, screaming at the top of her lungs. Her honey-brown hair's down, her face is flushed, and she's wearing a Bears jersey that's just a little too big.
Standing here smiling, I'd put my entire salary on the bet that it's gotMORRISONprinted across the back.
For half a second, our eyes lock.
She grins.
And I know I wouldneverdo anything to betray that girl.
Because I'm not like my father. No. I protect those I love.
The puck drops.
I win the face-off clean, snapping it back to Mason, and the whole arena ROARS.
Chapter 9
Josie
The VIP box isbedlam, and I have never been happier in my entire life.
"GO! GO! GO!YES!" Darcy's screaming with her whole chest, a half-empty cocktail glass clutched in one hand as she pounds her fist against the rail. "Did you SEE that pass?Tellme you saw that pass!"
"I saw it!" I'm screaming right back, my voice already shot to hell. We're only twelve minutes into the first period. "GET IT BACK! GET THE PUCK BACK!"
