I focussed on the crowd. We were in a different country, in an unfamiliar arena, but the fans knew just how big a deal this was. Ball caps littered the ice and others floated down. Flags with our famous seal were being waved and everyone was on their feet.
Music blasted through the speakers and the stadium shook. The sound of stomping feet almost drowned out the heavy bassand the crowd roared louder when I acknowledged them with a pump of my arms.
Gauthier put me down and my head was back in the game.
Three up. 8–to–5.
The win was in our hands.
Now all we needed to do was run down the clock until—
The klaxon wailed. It was over.
We’d done it.
Pride swelled through me, the high of the crowd making me soar.
I looked over my shoulder at the spot where Cara was sitting. She was on her feet, screaming with her arms up in the air. She waved, and I grinned.
I skated over to her, ignoring my earlier decision to leave her and Roe alone. I looked over at the woman she was with. They looked alike, so much so that I’d be surprised if they weren’t sisters or cousins.
“Oh my goodness, that was incredible,” Cara gushed, and I directed my attention back to her. Her smile stretched wide, and her cheeks were flushed. She was beaming.
I knew exactly how far down that pretty pink staining her cheeks went. My dick perked up, getting strangled in my cup.
I bowed and laughed. “Thank you.”
Cara gestured to the woman I’d noticed at her left, and she yelled over the cheers of the crowd, “Alec, this is my mum, Carina. Mum, Alec Huxley, the team’s left wing.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, but my lungs squeezed tight. Spots appeared in my vision. My ears rang, and my mouth was immediately as dry as a desert.
That was hermother?
I pulled my jersey away from my neck, hating the way it suddenly strangled me. My stomach flipped, and not in a good way.
She smiled, and I wanted to puke.
I hadn’t been introduced to anyone’s parents in a long time. Especially not the parents of a person I’d slept with. The last time that had happened was with my high-school boyfriend, and that had changed my life. In some ways it was for the better—I got to live with Nan to finish out high school, and there was no one better than her—but the way my parents had abandoned me still cut deep.
They’d walked in on Trace and me getting hot and heavy. Mum had demanded his parents’ number, called them, and explained in stilted detail what they’d seen us doing. His parents were okay about it, but mine were so horrified that they kicked Trace out and put me on the next flight to Clearwater, Florida.
They’d never paid me much notice before then. I was the classic child of rich absentee parents—they largely ignored me, provided I was quiet. Their real babies—the high-rise buildings they erected over demolished working-class neighbourhoods—received far more of their attention.
If you asked them, they’d take credit for my love of hockey, but all they did was throw money at me, my coaches, and the camps they sent me to. Most of the time, they didn’t even bother running me to and from practice. I could count on one hand the number of games they’d watched.
Then they found Trace and me together, and it all changed. My sexuality was enough of a sin that they wanted nothing more to do with me. But they weren’t stupid either. Everything was done on the DL. They didn’t want negative publicity from shunning their only child. So they made up some bullshit about how there were more opportunities for hockey in Florida than Chicago. As if anyone would believe that trash.
I hadn’t heard a word from them since getting my full-ride scholarship to St Bernadete’s.
Nan had opened her home and her heart to me, and to this day, she was the only person who loved me without reservation. But my memories were bittersweet. I lost her the day before I was drafted to the Seals. She never knew that I’d achieved my dreams. She’d never seen me play professionally. She didn’t even know that all our hard work had paid off.
Gauthier slapped his hand down on my shoulder, ripping me from my walk down memory lane. I blinked and flicked my gaze between Cara and her mum and swallowed. Their brows were furrowed and mouths turned down in concern. Maybe I’d been standing there longer than I thought. Way to make things awkward.
The weight of Gauthier’s grip was like a life raft. It was something to cling to—a welcome safe harbour from the sudden maelstrom in my head.
“Carina, you made it,” Gauthier bellowed. He’d pulled his mouthguard out, and his smile was the most genuine I’d seen it in a while—ever since the team-destroying clusterfuck of my breakup with Minns, to be exact. His attention was locked on Cara’s mother, and I could see exactly where Cara got her shy side from. Her mum blushed to her roots, and she laughed in that same self-conscious way that Cara had. Gauthier preened, and his smile turned into a smirk that was downright filthy.
“The team is going out to celebrate. You should join us,” Gauthier said. He was inviting them both, but his request was directed squarely at Cara’s mum.
