Page 134 of Ethan
Gabby patted him on the knee. “You’re gonna get this. You’ve got the instinct, Eth.”
Ethan rolled his eyes, but the next time they were on the ice together, Ethan tried to shift his mindset and found more lanes open up.
He had a really good opportunity near the end of the third—they were down 2–1 still, and Ethan was hungry for the chance to tie them up, maybe even giving the Bandits a chance for overtime and to make everyone’s expectations a reality—when Gabby caught a sick pass from Max and he and Ethan kept pace, crossing over mid-ice. Ethan had just gotten into position, trying to find the right angle around one of the d-men, and Gabby shot him the puck.
Ethan took the shot, putting some real muscle into it, hoping that he’d gotten enough elevation on it to hit between the goalie’s shoulder pad and the top of the goal.
But instead it barely glanced off the crossbar.
“Fuck,” Ethan muttered, but he shook it off, Gabby shooting him a quick look and a sharp approving nod.
“Great shot,” Max said, too, as they headed back to the bench for the shift change.
It wasn’t a resounding success, and it felt even less like one when the game ended, still 2–1, eight minutes later.
In the locker room after the game, Charlie didn’t have to say that was a game they should’ve won. Instead he kept his eyes down, lips compressed into silence, and Avery was similarly silent, face blank.
Ethan hated that everyone under the fucking sun thought that adding Avery to the team would just automatically mean wins.
But it was an adjustment for everyone, and it felt like the Bandits were still trying to find their identity, even though they were more than midway through the season.
“We’re gonna get the next one,” Max said fervently, both looking and sounding like he believed it. “We’ve got a day off tomorrow, so let’s enjoy it, alright?”
A few guys nodded, but everyone was quiet as they finished changing and headed to the bus that would take them to the airport. At least the flight down to Seattle was quick.
“Hey,” Hank said, sliding next to him on the bus that would take them to the hotel in Seattle. They’d sat together the whole time, but they’d both been quiet. Ethan hadn’t wanted to talk—playing that shot he’d missed over and over in his head, even though he knew it wasn’t productive—but he knew Hank was only going to leave him to stew for so long.
He wouldn’t leaveHankto sulk either, and that was only one of the reasons why Ethan loved him.
Why he was pretty sure Hank loved him, back.
“You good?” Ethan asked, nudging him in the shoulder.
“I should be asking you that question,” Hank retorted quietly.
Ethan shrugged. “It sucks. I shouldn’t have missed it—”
Hank just gave him a look. “Don’t,” he said. “And I was asking more about how you felt about the move to Max’s line.”
“It’s a good opportunity.”
Hank nudged him even harder back. “Don’t bullshit me. Bullshit Charlie or Max or Si, or anyone else, but not me, okay?”
“I kinda want to hate it but it wasn’t terrible,” Ethan admitted. “Playing with Gabby was actually pretty fun.”
“Yeah. He’s got the speed and the skill to keep up with you. Something you didn’t have on the line you were on.”
“Not cool,” Ethan retorted.
The corner of Hank’s mouth tilted up. “Just telling it like it is.”
“And you’re happy and Charlie’s happy and Max is happy. Baby bro’s protected.”
“I think we’re all happy about that, sure, but maybe happier you might score some goals and we could win some games.”
“Yeah.” Ethan glanced behind him. Avery was sitting by himself, three rows back. Maybe Ethan should’ve gone out of his way to sit with him, especially after tonight’s game, but he had a feeling that even if he had, Avery wouldn’t have confided in him. Hewouldconfide in Charlie, but Charlie was allergic to sitting with anyone but Max on the bus. Still, maybe Charlie would seek him out at the hotel tonight or tomorrow morning. Worst-case scenario, when they met up with Livvy tomorrow, hopefully she’d smack some sense into him.
Avery couldn’t possibly be a one-man miracle. Nobody was expecting him to be.
