Chapter 19: The New York Game

The ice felt different under my skates; it felt heavier. Like the building itself knew what was at stake.

I took my position at the blue line and studied their forwards cycle. The New York team were known to play aggressively and physically; the kind of hockey that ground you down shift by shift. They were really good.

But they weren’t us.

The first shift started.

I saw the open lane before it even became open,their defenseman faked a left, trying to fool me, but I held on to the puck for an extra second. From the corner of my eye, I could see that Cassian saw the same opening I did, he skated towards the net with his body angled and his stick low.

I sent the puck through the seam, it moved between two defenders, hitting Cassian’s tape and he buried it in the net before their goalie realized what was happening.

We were thirty-two seconds in.

Their fans went silent while our fans erupted. Csssian circled back, skating so close to me that our hips brushed. He did all this without looking at me, he didn’t need to.

Two minutes later, we did it again. Their defense adjusted and focused on Cassian, trying to take away his space. He lured three of them away from their defense position, holding on to the puck until the very last second, then he passed it to me at that point. I skated in, faked a shot and put it through the five-hole.

2-0.

I watched Cassian’s face as he skated past, his jaw was set and his eyes were focused. He wasn’t celebrating, he was on the hunt.

That was what set him apart. Most players scored and relaxed, but not Cassian. Cassian scored and got hungry for more.

In the second period, they adjusted.

Three more guys moved to Cassian, they hit him every time his stick made contact with the puck. I watched through gritted teeth as he got a cross-check to the ribs; he stumbled but he caught himself. He took another cross-check to the ribs, this time he lost his balance, losing the puck. He didn’t retaliate, he just got up, got back into the position and waited.

They scored two goals off turnovers, both goals were scored when Cassian was on the bench. By the time he stepped back on the ice, the building got loud again as their fans made noises of protest.

I got the puck at their blue line, their forecheck was aggressive; with two forwards coming at me hard. I could played safe by chipping it out.

Instead I looked up to quickly look for an open teammate.

Cassian was already moving, he was halfway through the neutral zone, his stick on the ice as he silently screamed for a pass that didn’t even exist yet.

I put the puck through their winger’s skates, it was perfect. It landed on Cassian’s tape at center ice and that was it.

He cut right, then to the left, selling his fake move well, roofing the puck over the goalie’s glove before the defenseman could even recover.

Their fans went quiet again.

Cassian didn’t celebrate, he just turned to look at me from across the ice, tapping his stick on the boards as he mouthed.

‘That was yours.’

‘I know.’ I nodded as I mouthed back.

In the third period, they brought everything; pinching defenseman, neutral zone traps and literally every trick in the history of hockey to try to bring us down. Every shift was a battle and every inch of ice was contested.

We only had seven minutes left till the end of the game when I took a hit that sent me into the boards. My knee screamed in agony, and I stayed down for a moment longer than I should have. When I looked up, Cassian was there; not to help me or check on me, but to block the play, giving me time to get to my feet.

Their fans screamed; the ref yelled, but Cassian refused to move till I was up before he skated away.

I watched him go, seeing the way his shoulders rose and fell with each breath he took. He took a backward glance at me, his eyes sweeping up and down my body to make sure I was okay.

Two minutes left and it was a tie. Half of their fans were on their feet, the tension making them unable to sit still.

At that point, the puck came to me and I looked up.

Cassian was breaking towards the net, but he was double covered.

I passed the puck to him anyway.

The puck floated over the first defenseman’s stick, missing the second defenseman by inches; it dropped onto Cassian’s blade.

He didn’t hesitate, he took the shot; the goalie had no chance against Cassian’s shot.

Our fans went wild.

Cassian stood in front of their net, with his arms raised and his face angled towards the ceiling. Their fans were already making their way towards the exit while our bench poured onto the ice. I stood still.

He found me through the crowd, skating towards me and grabbing my jersey when he was within reach, pulling me into him.

“That was for you.”

My eyes burned.

“Don’t do that.” I said, my voice low and rough.

“Do what?”

“What you’re doing now. It makes me want you even more.”

He grinned, then he bit his lip. I wanted to bite that lip.

“Too late.”

He let go of me and skated towards the bench.

I stood there at center ice, with a throbbing knee, watching him go. Everything I’d been holding back felt like it was starting to crack.

The final horn sounded, the game was over.

I skated off then.

The tunnel was loud with the sounds of the guys shouting and reliving the goals.

I walked through it without engaging in any of it, my chest was full and my hands were trembling; all I could think of was the way Cassian had grabbed my jersey, the way he’d bit his lip.

I made it to the locker room, moved to my stall and immediately started unlacing my skates.

The celebration bubbled around me. Music played, guys laughed, someone sprayed champagne, while another person shouted about the playoffs.

I barely heard any of it.

“Tor.”

I looked up.

He stood in front of my stall still in his gear, staring at me with want in his eyes.

“Tonight.” He said lowly, so only I could hear. “What time should I come over?”

I stared at him, my eyes flickering to his lips before moving up to his face.

“In an hour from now.”

He nodded, holding my gaze for a while, then walking away.

One hour.

One hour till I had him alone in my apartment, one hour till I could touch him without anyone watching.

I took a shower, changed and walked out.

The air outside was cold. I stood in the parking lot for a moment, trying to calm myself.

My phone buzzed.

Cassian: I’m leaving now.

Me: So am I, I’ll be expecting you.

Cassian: Don’t fall asleep.

Me: I doubt I’ll be able to sleep if I don’t see you tonight.

Cassian: Alright then.

I got into my car and drove home.

I pulled into my parking spot, killed the engine and just sat there in the dark. My heart was slamming.

Twenty minutes left.

I got out of the car and walked to my building, I took the elevator, stopped on my floor and walked to the door.

I unlocked it and stepped inside.

My apartment was quiet, as usual.

I stood in the entryway and waited for him.