After a one night stand on New Year's Eve, Lia and Derrick don't expect to see one another again. After all, she's a Harvard PhD student and he's a professional hockey player for the Boston Knights - there's no way their paths should cross again.
E...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
With the game about to start, I was shaking the last-minute nerves out alongside my teammates in the tunnel. But for the first time in this arena, it was as a member of the visiting team. I wasn't wearing navy and silver in Boston; I was wearing white and gold.
"How are you feeling?" asked Ruderman, the captain of the Royals, as he sidled up next to me. "Nervous to be back?"
I chuckled. "That obvious?"
"Just a hunch," he mused, nudging my side. "But try not to think about it too much. Most players in the league have to go through this at some point in their career, it's just the nature of the game, so use it as an opportunity. Don't view it as returning to a place that you failed, but rather an organization that failed you. Your old teammates will still be your friends after tonight, so take this moment and show the Knights' management that they made a mistake letting you go. Step out onto the ice and make them regret their decision. Show them who you are and help us slap these guys into next Tuesday."
The corners of my mouth pulled upward, because that was exactly what I needed to hear to stoke the flames burning within me. "Were you also voted team motivational speaker when they made you captain?"
He let loose a bark of laughter. "Comes with the role, my friend." As the announcer's voice rang loud, hyping up the crowd, and when the rest of the guys began heading out to the rink, Ruderman nudged me forward. "Go on. Show everyone what you can do."
Shaking out the last of my nerves, I started down the tunnel amongst my new teammates. The music blasting through the arena's speakers was loud—successfully pumping up the crowd—though it didn't completely drown out the chorus of boos several Knights fans let loose as we skated around our end of the ice.
Which was to be expected. After all, they didn't want us coming in here and handing their team a loss. But that was the plan, so I let the noise fade away, focusing in on the game that was about to start.
Skating twice around our half of the rink, I then joined most of the guys on our bench, leaving the starters out on the ice as we waited for the national anthem to start.
But before it did, my line mate, Quinn, nudged me in the side.
I turned to him and lifted a brow. "What?"
He lifted his stick and pointed to the jumbotron, and when I lifted my gaze in that direction, I was floored by what I saw.
An image of me.
And then another.
And another.
Letting the surrounding noise begin to sink back in, I realized that not only was the announcer mentioning my return to Boston, but the crowd was beginning to cheer for me. And not just with their words. I caught a glimpse of a handful of signs in the stands wishing me well and stating how much they missed me.
