But like all good players, I’m not delusional.
Hot streaks always end. It’s only a matter of when and how we bounce back.
Twenty-Six
ANTON
After our morning skate at the arena, we head back to Ezra’s with a couple of the guys and hang out. It’s low-key while we all try to get in the right mindset, and when my gaze constantly strays to Ezra and whoever he’s talking to, I don’t try to hide it.
I warn myself about getting in too deep, but I think I’m already there. Does it freak me out?
A little. But not because it’s Ezra.
My concerns are centered around coming out. Whether one of us will be traded. If a relationship even works in this high-pressure environment. Sure, we’re making sex work for us now, but I’ve seen way too many of my teammates get wrapped up in a relationship only to have it end in heartbreak or bitter divorces.
There are some people who make it work, but they’re the exception, not the rule.
After everything we’ve been through, I can’t go back to how it was before.
When we’re getting ready to head back to TD Garden, I catch Ezra as he’s leaving his bathroom and shove him back inside. I close the door behind us, push him up against the wall, and bring our mouths together in a searing kiss. “Whose idea was it to invite people over?”
“Diedrich’s,” he says against my lips. “I’m really starting to hate that guy.”
I chuckle and squeeze his ass. “Let’s go win that game, then it’s my turn to take you bare.”
“Normally I’d punch you for jinxing us, but you did get some added magic yesterday.”
I cringe. “The only thing that could make that sentence worse is if you called your cum magic juice.”
“Oh, I like that.”
“I had to open my big mouth.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I would have got there myself eventually. You just gave me a head start.” He brushes his lips against mine. “Plus, we’re playing Buffalo. Those guys have had a rough season. Even by their standards.”
“Maybe I’ll beat my points record. Reckon I can go for six goals this game?”
This time, Ezra does thump me. “Dude. You’re really pushing it.”
We catch up with the rest of the team before it looks suspicious and head for the arena. Even though I’m confident, game days wouldn’t be the same without nerves. We show up in our suits, get changed, and start to warm up. The hours tick closer to the game starting, and half the team gets loud while the others go quiet. It’s no surprise Ezra and I are on opposite ends of the spectrum, and I sit and watch as he kicks a ball back and forth with some of the team.
“You ready, Hayes?” Kosik asks.
“Let’s do this.”
The atmosphere of a live game is like nothing else. I can still remember the first time I walked out with Philly and looked around, completely awed that this is my life. The impact has lessened slightly after a few years, but every now and then, I hit the ice and take it all in.
We’re on the streak of the season, and Buffalo is at the bottom of the table. There’s nothing in this game, but I know not to get too far ahead of myself. Every team is capable of having a good game and a bad one.
And apparently, tonight is one of those times.
As soon as the puck drops, it’s clear something is off. Buffalo doesn’t make a wrong move. They’re constantly in our half, taking shots on goal, and the only thing between them and a high score is Kosik defending like a champ and Griffith shutting down all attempts.
I can barely find the puck, and when I do, no one is where I need them to be. It’s the same when Diedrich makes a steal and flicks it in my direction. I’m too slow to get on top of it, and it lands in the blade of a Buffalo forward.
Our second and third lines are playing better than we are tonight.
By the time the first period ends and we get back to the locker room, Coach is beside himself. He reams us, and I don’t blame him. We’re playing worse than we did when I was first traded.
I meet Ezra’s eyes briefly and have to quickly look away. I’m not the only one playing like shit tonight, but I feel like I’m the only one letting the team down.
An athlete’s ego goes both ways.
The second period is no better than the first, except this time, Buffalo slips two goals past us. Griffith is frustrated, Kosik is starting to get desperate with some of the hits he’s making, and the worse we get, the more I can tell we’re losing Ezra.
He’s in his head, and he’s missing some really easy plays.