What the fuck?
I skated up to the guy, ready to drop my gloves, because Tore hadn’t gotten up yet, but Ian was beside me, along with Viggo, both gripping my arms. This was a penalty, which would put us a man up, and I didn’t need to get a matching penalty that would even things out.
Tore seemed okay, getting to his feet, slowly skating back to the bench, and sitting down while one of the trainers looked at him. I couldn’t relax, watching the play, my chest tightening every time they got close to our goalie. Karl Martensson was a consummate professional, though, totally in the zone, and he blocked them all.
With our power play over, I was itching to get back on the ice, following the action intently. Toli was behind Carolina’s goalie, looking for a scoring chance, when one of their defensemen hit him hard, right into the boards. Toli was a tough sonofabitch, though, and attempted to shake it off as he headed back to the bench. Carolina’s D-man was no longer paying attention to Toli, and Ian grabbed the puck. I met Coach’s eye and he nodded, so I got ready to move, one leg over the boards as I waited for Toli to get closer.
The moment he got close enough, I hit the ice and called to Ian. With everyone down on our end, and the defenseman distracted, I had the perfect opportunity for a breakaway. Ian heard me, and a second later, I was flying down the ice, barreling down on the other goalie. I faked right and then shot a zinger to the left.
And that red fucking light was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
Game over, motherfuckers.
Skating around the ice, holding that trophy above my head, was the best feeling in the world. I’d been lucky enough to experience it once before, but this time was different. This was literally my last day on the ice as a professional hockey player, and I couldn’t ask for more than doing it this way.
I looked up into the stands, and though I didn’t spot Isla right away, I knew she was there. Along with my parents, her family, and many of our friends. Our wedding was in ten days and then we were going on a two-week honeymoon. We’d decided on a week in Australia, to explore a part of the world neither of us had ever visited, and then another week in Bora-Bora to lie on the beach and do nothing but eat, swim and make love. After that, we were heading to Limaj to settle into our new life. Initially, we’d be living at the palace. It would be easier for Isla once I left for basic training, and it would give both of us time to look around and decide where we wanted to live.
I also didn’t want her to be completely alone, and at the palace, she’d have Lennox, Casey and some of the others around, who all spoke English. She had the time and freedom to go back and forth to Scotland if she got bored or lonely, so this was the perfect way to transition into our new reality. The last few months had been fantastic, and I was getting more and more excited about what was to come.
I handed the trophy off to Ian, who took his lap around the ice, and I took a minute to look around. This was it. I’d worked my whole life, from the time I was about six or seven, until I turned eighteen, to make it to the pros. Then I’d spent the last decade playing my ass off. It had all come full circle because I was starting over again, going in a completely new direction, while simultaneously starting my life with Isla. And it felt good.
It felt right.
“I’m gonna miss the hell out of you,” Coach Wylde said, coming up beside me and following my gaze as I continued to scan the crowd.
Everyone knew I was retiring, though only Ian knew what I was doing next. I’d told everyone I was going back to school and exploring some different career opportunities. Zaan and Tore had an inkling that there was more to it, but I couldn’t tell them the truth—not yet—so I’d been as vague as possible, without hurting anyone’s feelings.
“How drunk are we gonna get tonight?” Jared asked me, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Pretty drunk,” I conceded.
“Think we’ll wind up in jail again?”
“I hope not,” I said, laughing. “Isla won’t be pleased.”
“She’ll be with us. It’ll be great. Renee’s never been arrested either. Hashtag relationship goals, man!”
Our eyes met and we burst out laughing.
Isla and I stumbled into our apartment at dawn, drunk and happy and completely spent. It had been a hell of a night. We hadn’t wound up in jail, much to Jared’s disappointment, but it had been a blast. The best possible way for me to wind down my hockey career.
Isla pulled off her clothes and collapsed on the bed. “Either I’m getting old or hockey players party way harder than Scottish physicists.”
“Last night might have been an exception,” I admitted, sliding between the sheets next to her. “I’ve been a hockey player most of my life and we didn’t even party that hard last time we won the championship.”
“Perhaps your mates were giving you a proper send-off,” she whispered, turning to look at me.
Her eyes were bloodshot and tired, but she was smiling.
“Most definitely.” I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers. “Thanks for hanging in there all night. I know it probably wasn’t your thing.”
She shook her head. “Perhaps not, but I had plenty of company, and truthfully, it was a night I’ll never forget. The fans… The happiness… The support from your teammates and their spouses. It was lovely.”
“I’m just glad you were at my side. I love my teammates, but I love you more.”
“I’ll always be by your side,” she whispered, holding up her
