Chapter 9: The Montreal Game

As soon as the puck dropped, the world narrowed to the white of the ice.

Montreal was different from the moment we stepped into the Bell Centre. The crowd screamed in French, the sound vibrating through my skates. The lights felt brighter and my skates felt higher. But none of that compared to how I felt seeing him at the opposite end of the ice during warm-ups.

Cassian.

He moved through the drill like he was one with the puck and stick.

I watched; mesmerized, before catching myself and looking away.

———

The first shift began.

I stayed back, reading their forwards and watching their patterns while waiting for an opening. The puck worked its way around the rink, the winger tried to move it past me, but I stepped into the lane, absorbing the hit and came away with it.

We were only a few seconds in and my ribs already ached.

I looked up.

Cassian was making a move.

He’d read it before I even had the puck, he cut through the neutral zone like he already knew where I’d shoot the puck to. Their defenseman angled to block the lane, but Cassian adjusted without slowing down as he drifted towards the board, creating space where there was none.

I calculated the odds.

The saucer had to be perfect, if it was too high, it would skip; too low and it would get intercepted. I put the puck exactly where it needed to go, it floated over their defenseman’s stick, dropping into Cassian’s path like it belonged there.

He took it without breaking speed or hesitating; he drove the net, shifted and buried it top shelf before their goalie could move.

1-0.

The Bell Centre was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Fourteen thousand people were stunned into silence.

Our bench exploded as the guys shouted, banging their sticks; it was a moment of chaotic joy.

Cassian skated past me on his way to celebrate; he didn’t stop or slow down, he just leaned in close enough to whisper.

“I told you I was special.”

My lips twitched into a smile. “Don’t let this little victory get into your head.”

He glanced back with a cocky grin. “Too late.”

He disappeared into the pile of teammates, I stayed at the blue line, watching them celebrate as my chest puffed up with pride.

———-

The second period came.

They scored; it was a tie now. Their forward got through our defense, and I was a step too slow; the horn blared as the crowd found their voice again screaming in celebration.

I slammed my stick against the boards.

When I got to the bench, I yanked off my gloves, inspecting them like it had done something wrong. Danton gathered us round, making some adjustments, but I barely heard a word.

A hand gripped my shoulder, and I looked up.

It was Cassian.

He stood over me, with bright eyes and a heaving chest.

“We’ve got this.”

“I know.”

“Next shift; you and I.”

I nodded in agreement.

He squeezed my shoulder in comfort, then he skated off.

I felt the warmth of his hand for the rest of the game.

———

Penalty kill.

It was a clean shot; I got the puck out, chipping it off the glass, watching their defenseman chase after it. I should have changed, but my line was gassed. I watched Cassian hop over the boards and I could do nothing but watch.

He took the puck along the half-wall, their guy came at him hard but Cassian angled his body, protecting the puck as he drew the defender in.

I saw the lane open up and I went for it.

He saw me coming, he didn’t look up or signal to me; he just placed the puck exactly where I needed it to be.

I was in.

Their goalie squared up, but I had the shot; I could have scored the shot.

I was about to, but in the corner of my eye; I saw red.

Cassian was driving the net; hands free and alone.

I passed the puck to him instead.

The puck slid to him; he one-timed it and took the shot immediately, he scored.

2-1.

He turned to me; his arms raised as his face lit up in pure joy, in less than a second, he was on me; grabbing my jersey as he pulled me to him. His forehead pressed against my helmet as our breaths mingled.

“That was supposed to be yours.” His voice came in pants. “But you gave it to me.”

“You deserved it.”

He pulled back to look at me with his wild and burning eyes.

The world stilled.

The crowd, the lights, the noise; it all faded until there was nothing else except the space between us; it was alive and electric.

“Tor.” His voice came out rough and husky.

“Cassian.”

Raffi hit us from behind, screaming in joy and just like that, the moment shattered.

But I still felt it in my bones.

———

Third period.

They came at us, hard and desperate, but we were ready as we blocked shots and killed penalties. Every shift was a war; we were relentless.

Four minutes till the end of the game, Cassian got the puck at their blue line.

I watched from the point, he danced around their first guy, sold a fake to the second; then he wound up and released.

The puck flew in. It was a hat trick.

The bench emptied before the horn even sounded; I watched the teammates surround him as they carried him up; I stayed back to watch, I watched his face when he came up for air.

He looked around for me.

Across the ice, in the midst of the chaos, his eyes found mine.

He winked, and I laughed.

——-

The final score was 5-2.

The locker room was insanely chaotic, someone blasted music from a speaker, Raffi danced in his undershirt; guys shouted, hugged and laughed. It was a moment of pure celebration.

In the middle of it was the man of the moment.

Cassian.

His shirt was off with sweat glistening off his chest, someone handed him a beer, he swung his head back as he took a swig, his throat working and his muscles shifting as he swallowed.

I sat in my stall and watched.

I couldn’t help it, neither did I want to.

He moved through the room, hugging guys and reviving pats of admiration with a huge smile on his face, the lights bounced off his skin making him glow.

He turned around, his eyes searching. He stopped as his eyes landed on me.

He passed the bottle to a random teammate as he walked towards me.

Teammates tried to grab him as he walked, but he ignored them all, walking in a straight line towards me.

He stopped in front of my stall.

“Your eyes have been on me all night.” He said.

“Yeah.” There’s no point in denying it.

He smiled as he bit his lip. “You like what you see?”

I smiled back. “You know I do.” I said in a low tone.

Something flickered in his eyes.

“Why are you sitting here alone then? Come celebrate.”

“That’s not my style.”

“Maybe you should change your style then.”

I stood without thinking.

We were chest to chest now; his skin was still damp. I wanted to run my hands down his body.

“Tor?”

“Yes, Cassian?”

“You passed up a chance to score, giving it to me instead.”

I didn’t say anything.

“Why did you do that?”

Because I wanted you to score; watching you score makes me feel something, when you score, your face lights up and it does something to me.

“You were open.”

He laughed softly. “I’ll pretend to believe you.”

Someone shouted his name, waving him back to the celebration.

He didn’t move.

“I’m not done talking to you.” He said.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He held my gaze for a moment.

Then he leaned in, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered.

“I guess I’ll see you tonight in our room, Captain.”

I swallowed thickly. “Yeah.”

He pulled back with a smile, then he allowed himself to be pulled back into the celebration.

I sat down slowly as I stilled my shaking hands.

——-

I left before the party moved to the hotel bar.

I walked past the deserted corridors of the arena, past the ice where Cassian had scored his first hat trick, past the benches where we’d shared a moment; my knees ached but it didn’t bother me tonight, my chest was full.

The cold air nipped at me as I pushed through the doors. Montreal at night was beautiful with all the lights; I walked without any destination in mind, I just moved, trying to outrun the feeling in my chest.

My phone buzzed.

Cassian: You left?

Me: Yeah, I needed fresh air.

Cassian: You’re always running.

A smile formed on my lips.

Cassian: Where are you?

Me: I’m taking a walk.

Cassian: Come back.

Me: I can’t

Cassian: Why not?

If I turn back, I’d do something rash; I’d probably kiss him as I run my hands through his hair. I’d probably tell him how proud of him I was.

Me: I’m exhausted.

Cassian: That’s a lie and you know it.

I didn’t send in any response.

Three dots appeared a few seconds later.

Cassian: Fine. But we need to talk when I get back to our room.

Me: Talk about what?

Cassian: We need to talk about how you looked at me tonight; how I looked at you tonight. About how everyone else seemed to disappear when your eyes met mine. We also need to talk about how you keep trying to run away from what you feel for me. I think you’re scared of what you feel for me.

My heart hammered.

Cassian: I’m not scared of what I feel for you. Are you?

I stared at the screen as I typed back.

Me: I’m terrified.

Cassian: Good, I’m terrified as well. I’ll see you soon.

I put my phone away as I walked back.

I was walking towards something I couldn’t control.

But I didn’t care.