Page 111 of Goalie Interference

Our bench clears as the rest of our team comes over to celebrate while Edmonton skulks off the ice with the sound of our fans cheering for us ringing through the arena.

No. Cheering for me. Chants of Bouchard, Bouchard ring through the crowd.

“Why?” I ask, choked up yet again.

Tavish comes over and gives me a post-game hug. “Because you deserve it.”

“But I didn’t do anything.”

“You won us this game,” Gavin says.

“No,” I say. “Connor won us this game.”

“Hey!” Tavish protests. “I scored that last goal. Sure it was an empty netter, but whatever.”

“Ander,” Connor says, squeezing in. “Enjoy it. This is for you.” He pulls away from me and takes Gavin and Tavish with him. Leaving me alone in front of my net while the stadium roars with applause.

I flip my mask up and hold my stick high into the air to salute them.

They cheer louder.

This is not at all what I was expecting. And none of it makes any sense to me. After a few easy laps around the ice, I eventually toss my stick into the crowd and head off the ice. I’m the last of my teammates still out here.

Walking down the tunnel, back to our locker room, I feel the dam break inside me once more. This has been the longest day of my life. It’s hard to believe it started with me waking in Toronto wrapped in Nikolai’s arms. And since then, I have experienced every emotion known to man.

I’m exhausted. And there’s only one person in the world right now who can make me feel better.

“Nikolai.” His name escapes my lips. I must be tired, because there he is standing right in front of me, in the center of our locker room. It has to be a hallucination. He’s supposed to be in Montreal.

“Ander,” he says, crossing the room in three long strides to reach me. He’s dressed impeccably in a pair of gray trousers and plum cashmere sweater. I’m shocked when he pulls my sweaty ass into a hug and holds me against him. With me still in my pads and all my gear, he struggles, but his embrace still feels wonderful. Real. Not a hallucination at all.

“You’re here,” I say, barely able to get the words out.

“I came for you,” he says, burying his face into my neck.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I did not want to give you anything else to worry about besides your game.”

“Why did you come?” I clench my eyes shut as they burn.

“I knew you needed me,” he says quietly. “And also⁠—”

“Get cleaned up,” Coach Matthews demands, breaking Nikolai’s words. At first, I assume he’s talking to the entire team, but then I see he’s staring directly at me. “The press is waiting for you two.”

Nikolai

In all my years, I never thought I would have to do something like this. Sitting in front of cameras and reporters, talking about the fact that I’m in love with a man. It’s absurd. Had I remained in a relationship with Sofia, none of this would have ever been necessary.

Though she is here, which I am thankful for. Ander’s agent couldn’t get here on time, but we have been on the phone with him.

I make eye contact with her across the crowd. She stands at the back wearing a black pencil skirt with her arms crossed over her white button-down dress shirt. Beside her are Ander’s parents. She nods her head at me, and then the questioning begins.

“How long have you two been romantically involved?”

I look over my shoulder at Ander. He’s normally so good at dealing with the press, but right now he looks like this is the last place he wants to be. He’s exhausted. It was the first thing I noticed about him when I pulled him into my arms, and that fact hasn’t changed. I need to get this over with and get him home to rest.

“Since Christmas,” Ander says. A soft smile pulls at his lips, lifting his cheeks.