Page 47 of Defend Her Heart

“Waiting for an important phone call or something? Where is your head at, man? We have a game to play in a few minutes.” Niko smacks his hand against my pants.

I haven’t told him the offer I made to Avery. I haven’t told anyone. It’s not because I don’t trust him, it’s because I know he’ll read into it and identify the root of my offer. He has this annoying ability to read and understand people better than they understand themselves. It makes him one hell of a captain, but it can get aggravating as his best friend. Sometimes I’m not ready to admit things to myself, like now, and I don’t need him pressing me on this one.

“Sorry, Cap.” I put my phone on silent and then put it face down next to me in my stall. I reach for my shoulder pads and slip them on before doing the same with my elbow pads and jersey.

In an attempt to get my head on straight, I pop my earphones in and grab my phone again, turning on my game day playlist. Eminem starts playing, so I close my eyes and bob my head along, my lips silently mouthing the words. With so much happening in the locker room before games, some people choose visualization to get themselves ready, but I’ve always used music to prepare. Zoning out and putting everything else on pause before I step onto the ice has always worked for me. So that’s what I do.

Niko bumps his shoulder with mine, and when I open my eyes, I see our head coach, Lincoln, standing at the front of the locker room waiting for everyone’s attention. I quickly take my earphones out and pause the song.

Lincoln Scott is the youngest head coach in the NHL, but he’s also the best coach I’ve ever had. Some people think he’s too young and inexperienced to lead a team to playoffs, but I think his young age helps him relate to us better. It wasn’t too long ago he was lacing up his skates to go to battle.

I clasp my hands in front of me, my elbows resting on my knees, and I give him my full attention.

“I’m going to keep this short and sweet tonight, gentleman. There’s only a handful of games left until we’re off for a couple weeks. We’re at a very good place in the standings right now, but I want to be in an even better position, especially going into the break. I want that Cup.”

I look around the room to see my teammates nodding along. No one expected us to even be able to compete last year after our entire coaching staff was replaced. Losing in the second round hurt like hell, and I know our entire team is remembering exactly what it felt like.

“It’s not going to be easy. But we can make a statement here. That first place seed is ours for the taking, boys. And onlyyoucan make it happen. I don’t want anyone thinking about going to the Olympics or what you’ll be doing over break. I need every single one of you focused these next couple of weeks. And it starts right fucking now.”

Some of the boys holler, the adrenaline starting to pump through our veins. Lincoln exits the room, Ellie and Hunter following behind him. A young girl from the Make-A-Wish Foundation walks into the room holding the starting lineup like it’s something far more important than a piece of paper. She can’t be more than seven or eight, dressed head-to-toe in team gear, a silk bandana in our team colors tied around her head, and the jersey swallowing her tiny frame in the cutest way.

“Hi, I’m Macy,” she says, voice bright but a little shy around the edges.

I glance around the room for a second, her parents just behind her, both smiling in that quiet, proud way I’ve seen Niko do when he’s trying not to cry. Something about it hits a little harder than I expect.

Macy reads the starting lineup carefully, tongue poking outslightly in concentration, like she’s calling the biggest game of her life. When she gets to our goalie, she beams.

“And starting between the pipes…Mack Attack!”

The room erupts.

I laugh with everyone else, shaking my head as she grins like she just called a Stanley Cup-winning goal instead of a lineup.

This. This is why we do this.

My teammates, who are more like my brothers, all stand, tapping gloves with Macy on their way out of the locker room. Niko and I are always the last two out of the room. I grab my gloves from the top shelf of my stall, but instead of putting them both on, I tuck one under my arm and check my phone one last time. She’s upstairs working, so the odds of her texting me about fucking marrying me are slim. But when I see her name on my lock screen, I suck in a breath.

Avery

I know you probably won’t see this until after the game. Well, at least I hope you won’t. I know how focused you always were before games.

Anyway, the answer is yes.

My world spins. She actually said yes. I reread the text five times. I’m on my sixth reread when Niko’s voice interrupts.

“Dude, what the fuck?”

I turn to see my captain glaring at me. But it does nothing to calm the excitement coursing through my body. The widest smile of my life spreads across my face, causing Niko’s expression to go from angry to confused.

“Why the fuck are you smiling like that? It’s creeping me out. You don’t ever smile unless Sophia is around.”

I ignore him, even though he’s absolutely correct, and throw my arms around him in a hug. He shoves me off him, but I reach out and hug him again.

“What the hell is happening right now?” It’s not Niko’s voice I hear, though. When I finally let go of him, I turn to see our assistant coach, Hunter, at the door.

Ignoring him, I give Niko a fist bump and chest bump, just like we do before every game, and head to the door.

“Sorry, Coach. Just got some good news, that’s all.”