When it was the Comets, my feelings on the matter changed. Knowing how hungry our boys were to win had my stomach twisted in knots. I wanted this for them. They’d come so close too many times only to fall short. The core group of players was aging, and this could very well be their last chance. Players like Jaxon and Cal would find their way to the Hall of Fame for their outstanding play, but their careers would always be measured against those who did win championships. As the daughter of a three-time champion, I knew that all too well.
Breaking records was nice, but championships were forever.
I hadn’t eaten all day. The stress had taken over my body.
Feeling faint, I took my place on the red carpet to fulfill my home game duties as anthem singer when all I wanted to do was collapse in a seat in the family box. I knew most of my night would be spent staring at the scoreboard, watching the clock—praying for it to move faster if we held a lead or slower if we were behind. Thank God Natalie and Amy would be right there by my side. Their support would help take the edge off. I couldn’t do this alone.
Voice wavering from my nerves surrounding the game, I finished up to the applause of the crowd. Glancing across the ice, Cal’s piercing gaze gave me goosebumps. Giving him a weak smile before I walked away, I hoped he knew that win or lose, I was so proud of him.
Go get ’em, baby.
Traversing the giant maze beneath the arena, I made my way to the elevator that required special access to reach the suites. Scanning my badge, the doors opened, and I leaned against the stainless steel wall, my legs shaky. They would be almost halfway through the first period by the time I made it to my seat, and I pressed a hand to my stomach to try and quell the nausea churning there.
They had to win tonight. They just had to.
Pushing through the door to the family box—the largest in the arena as it had been constructed over the space of three adjoining suites—I saw my friends with their backs to me as they watched the game below.
Taking a calming breath, I forced my feet to move so I could see if I’d missed any scoring. Not sure if I should be relieved ormore stressed, I found both teams still scoreless. There was a feeling deep in my gut that this was going to be a long night.
Sighing, I could hear my dad’s voice in my head.
“Nothing worth having is ever easy.”
He knew the grind it took to win it all better than anyone. His players idolized him. I only hoped that whatever words of wisdom he imparted upon them tonight would be enough to help get them over the hump and into the next round.
Natalie caught sight of me from the corner of her eye. When she turned her head to look at me, her face fell and she exclaimed, “Hannah, come sit down! You look like you’re about to pass out.”
She wasn’t far off. My legs were going to give out any second.
Jumping into action, Natalie slid off her bar-height chair, walking me to sit at the one next to hers at the high-top counter overlooking the ice. Collapsing onto the seat, I leaned my crossed arms on the counter, placing my head down atop them. I just needed a minute.
When the black spots cleared from my vision and I sat up straight, our resident mom was sliding a diet cola in my direction as she sat on my right.
Weakly, I asked, “Got anything stronger?”
Giving me a half-smile, Natalie forced the cold glass into my hand. “Let’s see how the game goes before you resort to alcohol.” Assessing me as I took a sip, she asked, “Have you eaten?”
My stomach turned at the thought. I shook my head. “If I do, I’m afraid I’ll throw up. I’m so fucking nervous for them.”
Patting my knee under the counter, she replied, “Me too. We all know how badly they want this. And lucky us—even if they do win, we’re only halfway there.”
From my left, a shot glass filled with my favorite pink lemonade-flavored vodka slid across the counter. A few years ago, a couple of ex-players running a hockey podcast hadlaunched this vodka and ever since, I’d been addicted. I made sure our box was always well-stocked.
Downing the shot, I looked to my left to find Liam smirking as he nudged my shoulder. “Figured you could use that,” he remarked.
Nudging him back, I countered, “You’re gonna get in trouble with Mom.”
Glancing over my head at Natalie, he shrugged. “I’ll make you a deal. You eat something, and I’ll get you another shot.”
Liam was sneaky. He knew I’d want another shot, but I wasn’t sure my mind could convince my body to release the vise grip around my stomach.
Changing the subject, I craned my neck to peek around him, asking, “Where’s Ames?”
Rolling his eyes, he breathed out, “The bathroom. Again.”
Poor Liam. He was in for a rude awakening if frequent bathroom runs were stressing him out. He shot me a glare when I covered my mouth with a hand to hide my snickering.
“I’m glad you find it so amusing. I don’t remember Natalie spending this much time in the bathroom with Beau or Charlie. What if there’s something wrong?” He really only had Natalie’s youngest two as a reference since he was in the military when she’d had the older two.
