Page 25 of Icebound Hearts
“Anything I forget probably isn’t that important anyway,” I say as I set Jake back down on his feet and ruffle his hair. He laughs and squirms away from me, then dashes back to the puzzle. I’m glad he’s not taking my leaving too hard.
I glance at Violet, shoving my hands into my pockets as I rock back on my heels a bit. “Well, I guess I’d better get to the airport. I don’t want to keep the team waiting. Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. Anything at all.”
“Got it. But I think we’ll be fine. Good luck with the games.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” I lean around Violet to call into the living room. “Jake, be good for Ms. Violet, okay? Do whatever she tells you, no arguments.”
“Yes, Daddy,” he says and comes running back to us, but stops at Violet’s side. She puts a hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing it, and Jake smiles up at me. It’s the smallest thing, but seeing her comfort him like that, and him respond so well to it, does something to me.
For the first time in… well, as long as I can remember, I’m confident things are going to be fine. Better than fine.
I pat Jake’s other shoulder. “See you in a few days, bud. Love you.”
“Love you too, Daddy. Go Aces!”
I beam at him and pick up my bags to load them in my car. I put a new booster seat in Violet’s car right after she started working for me, so she’ll be able to drive Jake around while my car is at the airport. I can see Violet and Jake watching from the front window until I’m out of sight, and the smile on my face doesn’t fade until I get to the airport parking lot half an hour later.
I head into the terminal and make it through security without issue before heading to the area for private departures. Most of the Aces players and staff are already there, and after waiting for a couple of stragglers, we all pile onto the team’s charter plane.
Thankfully, it’s not a very long flight to our first stop, Chicago, where we’ll be squaring off against the Falcons. But it’s long enough to catch a little shut-eye, so that’s exactly what I do.
Once we’ve stashed our bags at our hotel in Chicago and the puck drop is looming ahead of us, I can feel the familiar pre-game energy starting to build beneath my skin. The away team locker room is rowdy as my teammates all get psyched up for the game.
“Who’s ready to cook some birds tonight?” Theo asks, clapping his hands loudly as he straightens up from lacing his skates.
“Their feathers are probably ruffled as hell already, knowing they’re playing against us,” Reese says, smirking. “Their record so far this season is pretty bad, so I don’t blame them.”
“Alright, alright. Let’s not get too cocky here, boys,” Noah cautions. “Anything can happen out on the ice, and the Falcons have the home advantage.”
“They’re gonna need it,” I toss out, and Theo spins to point at me, grinning widely.
“Hell yeah! That’s the kind of energy we need right there.”
Noah shoots him a look, but Theo doesn’t even notice—or at least, he pretends not to—as we finish gearing up. Coach Dunaway and our assistant coach give us a pre-game speech, refocusing us on our goals, and then we hit the ice. The crowd that’s already gathered in the stands, presumably mostly Falcons fans, gives us a modestly warm round of applause. But it’s nothing compared to when the Falcons hit the ice.
“Don’t let it get to you. They’re just trying to juice their team up,” Theo calls over the ice, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t affect me a bit. I know firsthand how big of a difference a supportive crowd can make, let alone one that’s fired up like this group seems to be.
“Theo’s right. As long as we keep our heads on and play as well as we have been, this game is ours,” Noah agrees, clapping me on the shoulder as he skates by.
I nod, trying to shake off any lingering nerves. Once the warmup is over and the anthem has been sung, I take my place on the defensive line while the refs hit the ice and the rest of my team forms up for the face-off.
Surprising no one, Theo snatches the puck almost before it hits the ice and streaks off toward the Falcons’ goalie.
They seem to be totally blindsided by his speed, and their goalie must be asleep at the net, because he lets Theo score probably one of the easiest shots he’s ever taken. There’s barely any applause, unsurprisingly, but when everyone returns for the next face off, there’s a different kind of energy coming from the Falcons.
This time, it’s me on the backfoot. Their center beats Noah for the puck and is already rushing toward me before I realize it. I try to intercept him, but he spins around me at the last second, sending me crashing into the boards and eliciting a burst of noise from the crowd. All that’s standing between him and the net now is Grant, who’s already tensing up to try to block the shot.
The center’s stick slaps, and I grit my teeth as a deafening roar from the crowd meets my ears, nearly drowning out the blaring horn that signals we’re tied up one to one. My blood pumps angrily in my ears, and my face stings when I think about Jake and Violet watching my fumble on TV at home.
Coach Dunaway is shouting something at us from the box, but I can’t hear him over my own thoughts.
Get it together, Townsend. Noah was right. These guys are hungry. They’ve got something to prove. But you can’t let it knock you off your game, and you damn sure can’t let that happen again.
I shake my head and take my position, determined not to let a soul past me. But this goal has gone to the Falcons’ heads. I see them smirking and laughing at each other as they get in position. One of them says something to Theo, and although I can’t hear it, it’s plain to see Theo’s pissed. That’s not good.
The ref’s sharp whistle brings my focus back to the ice, and in the blur of bodies fighting for the control of the puck in the aftermath, I struggle to keep track of what’s happening. I pace nervously across the ice, trying to be prepared for anything. Buta Falcon bursts out of the bedlam and tears off toward me with Theo hot on his trail.
I head the guy off, driving him toward the boards. He sprays me with ice when he stops abruptly to avoid hitting the boards, but Theo slams him right in the back, sending him careening into the boards. The ref’s whistle pierces the boos from the crowd, and Theo gets sent to the penalty box.