Page 146 of Only Ever You

I drag the puck my way and shift so I’m facing the direction Lewis was trying to draw to. Then, I send it sliding to our defenseman.

With eight minutes left in the third period, the score is still 2–1. The Dolphins are locked in, cutting off every single one of our attempts to score, though they haven’t made much effort to score themselves, playing defensively.

My breaths saw in and out of my lungs as I skate with Ash and Bouchard toward the Dolphins’ net. The spectators are going nuts, yelling and cheering, pushing us to do more.

Bouchard executes a perfect drop pass, and I catch the puck with my stick. With sweat dripping down my back, I pick up speed, putting distance between myself and the Dolphins’ defense.

Then, with a wrist shot from the high slot, I send the puck soaring between Tanaka’s pads and into the net.

The game ends with the Hawks winning 3–1, and I just fucking scored my first hat trick of the season.

Me—Michael Thompson.

Not my dad.

Not the kid who crashed his bike, putting the Phantoms’ investment at risk.

Me.

I am good enough to stand with Isla Walker.

And they all better remember it. I’m going to make them eat their words, now and in the NHL.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

i’ve got you

ISLA

Nineteen years old

I can’t stop smiling. Yeah, the win is exciting, but Michael’s hat trick is making me giddy. I dare anyone to accuse him of being nothing more than a well-known name. He was phenomenal, a real leader. It was hot.

And the icing on the cake is that the Hawks beat Santa Clara. As far as I know, Sienna is still a student there. Honestly, I kind of hope she’s here and witnessed the way the Hawks wiped the ice with the Dolphins. Our team was like a living, breathing monster, every move calculated, every pass direct and precise. The pride I feel for the whole team is so big, it barely fits inside my chest.

“Are you happy you came?” Blake asks as we take the stairs down to the rink.

“Are you kidding me?” I yelp, grasping her hand. “I had a blast.”

“Wow. I’ve never seen you so enthusiastic.” She laughs, shaking her head. “Now I know how to cheer you up next time you’re down. Just bring you to a game so you can watch your boyfriend play like a god.”

The crowd is loud, laughing and talking and whooping. The chanting that started up when Michael scored for the third time is all I hear. The whole place was shouting “Thompson!” over and over. The game ended 3–1, and I think I’m as happy about the win as Michael and his teammates. It’s what he needed after the whole “if he’s good enough to be with me” debacle.

Because while he assured me he was fine after Blake mentioned it, I’ve known him since we were little, and I can smell his lies from miles away.

Blake babbles on, talking about the party at the frat house tonight. It’s the go-to spot after a win like this. I’m not super into partying, and I’m leaving for Paris in three days, so I’ve been focusing on getting enough sleep, but I’ll go there for Michael. Only ever for him.

Halfway down the stairs, the back of my neck prickles, causing me to stop. I scan the people around me, certain I’m being watched, and find a familiar blonde with her blue eyes narrowed on me. Sienna Hartman.

My stomach sinks. Dammit, how does the saying go? Be careful what you wish for. Despite my wanting to witness her disappointment after a game like this, she’s the last person I ever wanted to see.

She pauses at the railing, a smug smile lifting her lips.

Shoulders back, I walk toward her. At this point, anything Blake says is nothing more than white noise.

Blonde hair down, Sienna looks like she owns the place. She’s beautiful, sure, but she’s as cold as ice. The Ice Queen nickname would’ve suited her so much better than me.

“Wow,” she says as I approach. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”