Page 166 of Game Misconduct

He was annoying and persistent and as Leif hydrated during the intermission, he couldn’t help but wonder what the Rockets would look like with Tanner on it. He felt a bubble of excitement that he quickly squashed down.

No, Tanner was a Harrier now and Leif had to remember that. Anything that happened in the offseason was irrelevant. They had to get there first.

And as badly as Leif wanted to see Tanner in person, to touch him, to hold him, to smell his skin and call out his name with a broken moan, he was desperate for this run the Rockets were on to last as long as it could.

Were they Cup contenders? Probably not. This wasn’t going to be a magical run to the finish line, or even a scrappy team battling their way there but theywouldfight until the end.

Him and Nicky and Ian and Roman and …

But it was time to get on the ice again soon and Leif dragged a towel over his still-damp hair and guzzled another big swig of an electrolyte replacement drink before grabbing dry gloves from the equipment manager.

One period at a time. One shift at a time. One shot at a time. That was the only way to do it.

So Leif went out for the second period, and he ignored Tanner and he took every opportunity he had to get the puck to the net. No matter how ugly, no matter how impossible, he took the shot.

And Nicky did the same.

Renner drew a penalty against Crawford, and the Rockets went on the power play.

Nicky was the trigger man again and after a couple of quick back-and-forth between the two of them, with Ian low in the slot, Nicky faked a pass back to Leif but fired it instead. Webber saw the puck at the last second and shot out his catcher, but the rubber disc grazed the edge of it before tumbling into the net.

Leif shouted his pleasure and the building erupted with excitement.

“Fuck yes! That wasbeautiful!” Leif shouted at his captain as they collided in a celly.

Nicky grinned, clearly relieved. Other guys piled on them, the building still filled with noisy joy. Nicky was beaming as he skated to the bench for fist bumps.

His teammates shouted their appreciation at him for tying the game up 2–2 and Leif couldn’t stop smiling either. Fuck, why had heeverbeen worried about Nicky coming back?Thiswas what they needed, their captain playing like the superstar he was. Them pulling together to make this happen.

But on the next shift out, Tanner got the puck off the boards and passed it to Connor O’Shea, who sank the puck in behind Poole, whose diving save had come too late.

Poole was slow to get up and Leif tried to hide a wince. Fuck.

But there was still almost six minutes left in the game, and it was only 3–2 in favor of the Harriers. The Rockets still had time to even it up.

On Leif’s next shift out, he was low in the slot when Tom Bass fired the puck—a heavy slapper that cracked through the air. Thepuck came shooting toward Leif and he thrust his stick out to bat it away.

He swore as pain exploded through his elbow and he fell to the ice, too stunned and blinded by it to stop his knees from buckling. He rolled onto his side, gasping and clutching his elbow, his brain whirling with a combination of searing pain and fear that it was broken.

No, fuck, not now,he pleaded, trying to draw in a breath.

And then Ian was there, helping him sit up. Leif sat there a moment, his vision swimming from the pain.

“Can you get up?” Ian shouted over the worried noises from the crowd. “Do you need a trainer?”

Leif groaned and shook his head, letting Ian help him to his feet and there was a smattering of applause from the Rockets fans in the crowd. Leif tentatively moved his arm, expecting searing pain to go through his forearm and hand, but there was just a weird sort of numbness in his pinky and ring finger.

He sighed, relieved. “Shit. I think it’s just a stinger.”

That happened sometimes. The puck hit just wrong—or just right, maybe?—getting the ulnar nerve instead of bone. There could still be a small fracture or something but hopefully not.

As he skated to the bench under his own power, with Ian by his side, he caught a glimpse of Tanner, still hovering on the ice, chewing on his mouthguard and looking worried.

Not enough that it would give them away, but LeifknewTanner’s face almost as well as his own now, knew what the little furrow between his brow meant. He gave Tanner a faint nod, justenough to let him know he’d be okay, and watched that furrow smooth out.

I’m okay,he wanted to say.I love you and I’ll be alright.

But he couldn’t say any of that, so he looked away and continued on to the bench. Someone let him in through the door and Danny, one of their trainers, was already there, shouting questions at him.