Page 211 of Risking the Pucking Defense

“Shit. Hails, you want wine?” Casey asks, realizing I don’t have a drink to join in.

“Whatever you’ve got open is good,” I say.

Only a minute later, I’ve got a drink in my hand and Bea tries again.

“To women taking over the world.”

Happiness shoots through me as I look at each of these incredible women before me. Each one is absolutely bossing it in their individual fields, including the mini one in the living room, who is working toward having an incredibly successful future as an athlete.

We stand over the food, grazing and chatting about our weeks and the guys for the longest time. We lose track of time completely, and it’s not until Sutton calls through from the living room that the game is starting soon that we all begin to move.

“Do you want a plate of food?” Casey calls back, but she doesn’t wait for Sutton’s response; she’s already loading a plate full of food.

“Yes, please. I’m starving,” she replies, making us all laugh.

“I swear, trying to keep her and Kodie full is a full-time job,” Casey mutters as she fights to carry two plates and her drink through to the living room to watch the game.

“Oh, wow,” I breathe when I follow and discover Sutton’s setup.

She’s on a balance board, on synthetic ice hockey tiles, flicking a puck back and forth just like I often see the guys doing.

“Oh, food,” she announces, hopping off the board and jumping the tiles without a care in the world before she drops to her knees at the coffee table and begins devouring her dinner.

We all find seats and settle in for the game. The room is silent as we all eat for the first two minutes, but the second Kodie takes a hit from the Blackhawks D-man, Casey practically throws her plate across the room as she jumps to her feet and starts screaming at the TV. Sutton isn’t much better, but at least her food isn’t on her lap.

“Do it, Daddy. Hit him. He deserves it,” Sutton bellows, making me smother a laugh.

Casey shoots her a side-eye, but she doesn’t comment. Something tells me that any attempts are futile at this point.

Thankfully, Kodie doesn’t follow his daughter’s advice and he walks away from the asshole, ready for another puck drop.

Casey and Sutton continue shouting at the screen between mouthfuls of food. Freya and Bea are much quieter, although that all changes when the Blackhawks get their first real shot on goal.

“That’s it. Yes, Cole. Yes, baby,” Freya squeals when the puck lands in Cole’s glove.

All five of us are solely focused on the TV screen as we head toward the end of the first period. It’s still goalless, but we’ve had way more chances. We just can’t seem to find the back of the net.

“Oh oh oh,” Bea says, leaning forward as if that’ll get her a better view as Rett passes forward to Fletch. He shoots around the back of the goal before faking a left to Kodie and instead passes to Linc, who finally finds the back of the net with an incredibly fast wrist shot.

“Yes,” we all scream as the guys celebrate on screen.

“That’s our boys right there,” Casey shouts. “Fuck, I love them.”

I wait for the appearance of Sutton’s swear jar, but she doesn’t get it out.

“You not collecting tonight, lil Riv?” I ask teasingly.

“No,” she sulks. “I’m not allowed during games. It was costing everyone too much money.”

“Fair point,” I mutter as I catch sight of Hayden jumping over the boards for the final shift before the break.

“He’s seriously fast,” Sutton says, tracking Hayden as he shoots down the ice.

“He is,” I breathe, pride for my man oozing from me.

Sutton breaks eye contact with the TV and looks over her shoulder at me, a smile pulling at her lips. She’s about to say something, but Casey starts shouting again, stealing her attention.

We all slump back into the couches as the guys head off the ice.