Chapter 230 Chapter 229
Chapter 230 Chapter 229
Logan POV
By the time I made it back to the locker room, my legs felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each.
Every muscle in my body ached in that familiar way that only came after sixty minutes of hard hockey. My jersey clung to my back, my hair was soaked beneath my helmet, and I could still hear the faint roar of the crowd echoing in my ears even though the game had been over for nearly fifteen minutes.
The room buzzed with a different kind of energy now.
The nerves that had hung over everyone that morning had disappeared.
Guys laughed as they peeled off shoulder pads. Someone was already arguing over whether the game-winning goal had actually gone bar down. Across the room, one goalie insisted he’d been screened on every shot that beat him, earning a chorus of sarcastic groans from the rest of us.
It felt like any locker room after a good win.
Normal.
And maybe that was my favorite part.
The biggest game of my life had somehow become… just another hockey game.
Coach Reynolds walked in carrying a clipboard.
He didn’t say anything at first.
He simply looked around the room, letting the conversations die down naturally.
“I’m proud of every one of you.”
His voice wasn’t loud, but every player stopped what they were doing.
“You competed.”
He nodded once.
“You trusted yourselves.”
His eyes briefly met mine before continuing around the room.
“And because of that, every scout sitting upstairs saw exactly who you are.”
He smiled.
“Now forget about it.”
A few players laughed.
“I’m serious.”
“You can’t change what happened out there.”
“You can’t replay a shift.”
“You can’t replay a goal.”
“The only thing that matters now…”
He pointed toward the hallway leading back to the ice.
“…is the next one.”
With that, he dismissed us for lunch before the afternoon evaluations.
No grand speech.
No dramatic celebration.
Just another reminder to stay in the moment.
I was beginning to think that was Coach’s greatest gift.
He always knew exactly what you needed to hear.
⸻
The hallway outside the locker room was quieter than I expected.
Players wandered toward the dining area in small groups while coaches disappeared into meeting rooms.
I had just reached the water station when someone called my name.
“Logan Shaw?”
I turned.
A man in a navy polo with a credential hanging around his neck walked toward me.
He looked to be in his late forties, maybe early fifties, with silver beginning to creep into his dark hair.
“You have a minute?”
“Sure.”
He introduced himself, extending a hand.
“Mark Delaney.”
The name didn’t immediately register.
Then I glanced at the logo stitched onto his polo.
An NHL logo.
My pulse kicked up.
He noticed.
“Relax.”
He laughed.
“I’m not drafting anyone today.”
That earned a nervous chuckle from me.
“I just wanted to introduce myself.”
We stepped off to the side, away from the flow of players.
“I’ve watched a lot of your film this year.”
I nodded, trying not to overthink every word coming out of his mouth.
“What impressed me today…”
He smiled.
“…wasn’t your goal.”
That surprised me.
“It wasn’t?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
“What impressed me was the shift before your goal.”
I searched my memory.
“The breakout?”
“You didn’t force anything.”
“You had a shooting lane.”
“You passed.”
“You trusted your teammate.”
He folded his arms.
“Young defensemen usually want to be the hero.”
His smile widened.
“You looked like someone trying to win a hockey game.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond.
“So…”
I settled on honesty.
“Thank you.”
He nodded.
“Keep doing that.”
He started to leave before turning back.
“And Logan?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t spend the rest of the weekend looking for me.”
He pointed toward the arena.
“There are a lot more of us here than you think.”
Then he disappeared into the crowd.
I stood there for several seconds before letting out the breath I’d apparently been holding.
He hadn’t promised me anything.
He hadn’t mentioned the draft.
He hadn’t talked about contracts.
But somehow…
That five-minute conversation meant more than any speech I could’ve imagined.
Because for the first time, someone at the highest level wasn’t talking about who I might become.
He was talking about the player I already was.
⸻
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of testing, meetings, and another on-ice session.
By the time I finally returned to my room that evening, exhaustion settled into my bones.
I kicked off my shoes and collapsed backward onto the bed.
My phone buzzed almost immediately.
Harper ❤️
Well?
I laughed.
Well what?
Three dots appeared.
Don’t make me drive to Chicago.
How’d you play?
I stared at the screen for a long moment.
A year ago…
I would’ve answered with statistics.
Ice time.
Shots.
Blocked passes.
Maybe even how many scouts I’d noticed.
Instead, I typed the only answer that really mattered.
I had fun.
The response came almost instantly.
See?
Another message followed.
Told you.
I smiled as I looked down at the bracelet around my wrist.
Play Free.
She’d known before I had.
Maybe she’d always known.
⸻
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.
When I opened the door, Coach Reynolds stood in the hallway.
“You decent?”
“Yeah.”
Coach stepped inside.
“I won’t keep you long.”
He handed me a folded sheet of paper.
“What’s this?”
“Tomorrow’s interview schedule.”
I unfolded it.
Three NHL teams.
One development program.
Two meetings with scouting departments.
I looked back up.
“I have… six interviews?”
Coach nodded.
“You earned them.”
For a second, I couldn’t find my voice.
“This doesn’t guarantee anything.”
“I know.”
“But it means they want to know the person behind the player.”
He smiled.
“And I think they’re going to like what they find.”
After Coach left, I sat on the edge of the bed staring at the paper.
Six interviews.
Six chances.
Six doors that hadn’t even existed this morning.
I picked up my phone one last time.
Me: Guess how many interviews I have tomorrow.
Her reply came less than ten seconds later.
All of them.
I laughed.
Close.
Six.
There was a pause.
Then…
I’m so proud of you, Hockey Boy.
I looked out the hotel window toward the lights of Chicago.
The dream didn’t feel so far away anymore.
For the first time…
It felt like it was skating toward me too.