"That's right. You know I worry about you. I shouldn't, of course. You make friends everywhere you go."
He smiled at that. "Thanks."
"We miss ya, kid," his dad said. "Kick some ass tonight."
"I'll do that."
"Love you, Will," his mom said.
"I love you both. Talk to you after the game."
He hung up and shoved his phone in his pocket, grabbed his bag and put on his coat, then headed toward the arena. It was a huge night and Will felt equal parts nervousness and excitement. This was the big game--the last game.
They'd had a long practice this morning and again this afternoon, allowing Canada their time on the ice as well. The entire team had eaten an early dinner together and had talked strategy for dealing with a very talented Canadian team. It wasn't like it was a given they were going to win.
He breathed in the crisp air. It smelled like impending snow. Clouds had gathered earlier, that ominous look that spelled a storm was coming. Will hoped it wouldn't be too bad. Just enough snow to bring a fresh pack to the mountain for the events.
It was getting colder, too. He pulled the hood of his parka over his head to ward off the cutting wind. By the time he made it to the arena, snow had started to fall in big, thick flakes, coming faster every minute.
He made his way to the locker room, shaking the snow off his coat and hat and tucking his gloves into his pocket. He felt chilled clear through to his bones. He needed a nice hard skate to warm him up.
"My man," Drew said, coming up to shove his things into the locker next to him. "You up?"
"I'm up."
"Gold looks really good on me," Eddie said, his golden blond hair spiked straight up. He slid alongside them on the bench. "So don't fuck this up."
Will cracked a grin. "I don't plan to, Eddie. I'd hate to ruin your golden moment with the press, especially since you're having such a good hair day."
Drew snickered.
Eddie shot Drew a glare. "Hey, don't diss the 'do. This takes work."
"You do realize you're about to stick a helmet on your ''do,' right?"
"Not a problem. It'll bounce back in time for me to have my moment with the cameras."
Will rolled his eyes and got his gear on. He was more than eager to get out there on the ice.
Coach Stein gave them an incredible motivational speech about doing this for their country, who were all behind them. Will felt that love of country deep in his bones. He was ready.
So when they were in uniform and stood at the entrance, listening to the clamor of the crowd, he felt that first rush of adrenaline drilling right into his marrow. That noise, those cheers, got him excited and eager to play.
They skated out to earsplitting noise, American flags waving throughout the crowd. He'd never felt happier to be representing his country than he did at this moment. He could only hope to do his country proud.
He saw Tim McCaffery skate by, wearing his team Canada gear. Tim skated backward, grinned and waved. Will smiled.
It was still so weird to be playing against a teammate. He knew Tim would do everything he could to win for Canada, just like Will would give it all he had for the US.
And when it was over, they'd go back to being teammates on the Ice.
Each team did their warm-ups and got ready for the game to begin. Will used all that nervous energy and centered it into his gut, preparing to go for the puck. He knew Canada had a loaded team with a ton of talent and this game wasn't going to be an easy skate for them. It was going to be three periods of digging in and working their asses off, with no guarantee of a win.
Which meant it was time to focus.
At the puck drop, Canada got the advantage, skating to the US net. Hance, their goalie, captured the shot from McCaffery and punched it out to their defenders. Will ended up with the puck and dropped it off for Oster, who took a shot.
Denied. Their goalie was sharp.
Dammit.
It was a back-and-forth battle, the puck making its way to both ends on a frequent basis, which meant they were all skating their asses off.
When Canada slid the puck into the net at the end of the first period, Will felt that sinking disappointment all the way to his feet. He ignored the erupting crowd noise.
He had to shake it off. Still plenty of time, and the game was close. They could do this.
They all fought hard for a score, but the only team that scored in the second period was Canada. Again.
Shit.
They could not lose this game. They went into the locker room and he'd never seen his team so down. He remembered every game they had played here. And it looked like they had already given up.
He stood. "Hey, guys."
They all glanced up.
"Take a look around this room. You know most of us play against one another all season. You know the talent in this room. You know how good everyone is. There is no way we can lose this game."
"Yeah, I'm sure the other guys in the other locker room are saying the same thing," Miles said.
Will laughed. "Probably. But you know what? We're just as good. No, we're better. That second period shot was lucky as hell and we all know it. And scoring two goals in a period? How many of us have done that in a game? Or more than that?"
"Plenty," Drew said. "So what's stopping us from scoring three?"
That's what Will needed to hear. "Exactly. This is it. This is for gold. This is what we came here for and we're not leaving without it."
They all stood in unison, sticks in the air, and shouted, "Yeah!"
They came out in the third period with a renewed sense of determination. They could come back from this and win it all. They would come back from this and win it all.
And when Drew sank one into the net within the first thirty seconds, that bright light of hope beckoned to Will. He felt the spark that jazzed him up like nothing else. This was that last game and they wouldn't give up.
They scored the second goal on a shot from Oster to Will, who slid the puck in between the goalie's legs. He had no idea how the goalie missed that block. What's more, he didn't care. They were tied and the arena was going crazy. Just the way Will wanted it to. Because they were tied and there were still five minutes left in the game.
Defense was going hard at Canada, and Hance was blocking every shot.
They were firing on all cylinders now and Will could feel it in every one of his bones. They had the crowd behind them, and the team was a fucking machine. They had this game.
But after four blocked shots, and the clock dwindling down, he wasn't sure they had this game in regulation. None of them wanted to do this in overtime, but if they had to, they would.
They were on the US side now, and Will was waiting for defense to do their job.
When the shot came his way, he and Drew hustled their way down the ice. He passed to Oster, who lined it up while Drew and Will fought their way to the goal. Canada's defenders were all over him as he skated his way to the interior. But he wrestled the puck and dropped it off to Drew, who took the shot.
Holy shit, it went in. It went in. They'd scored.
The crowd erupted and all Will could see was the lamp light up. He practically flew over to Drew.
"You fucking did it." He wrapped his hand around Drew's helmet and pounded him on the head.
"With a hell of a pass from you, buddy."
Will grinned. "Now let's close this out."
Will's heart was beating so fast he could barely catch his breath. He glanced up at the clock. A minute and a half left. It seemed like an eternity, because Canada could still score.
But defense was relentless, and Hance seemed to make himself even larger at the goal, blocking everything that came his way.
The buzzer signaling the end of the game was the sweetest sound Will had ever heard.
They'd won. They'd won gold. It wasn't like four years ago when Canada had beaten them by one goal. This time it was their turn.
Will had never ex
perienced this kind of elation before. As he skated to center ice to celebrate with his teammates, he felt as if he were floating on his skates. They all smacked one another on the head, hugged and skated around in circles.
It was total euphoria, all played out to the backdrop of screaming fans.
He knew his parents and his brother were watching, knew they'd be as excited as he was. He hoped the bar was packed and everyone had been buying drinks all night, that the bar's take tonight would be awesome.
Because he felt awesome.
He looked up at the crowd, knowing that Amber was somewhere up there.
They did their handshakes with the Canadians. Damn, he felt awful about Canada losing. A lot of these guys were his friends. He'd been on that side four years ago, so close to gold you could taste it.
But a silver medal wasn't too damn bad to come home with, either.
Once they finished shaking hands, they skated around the ice, waving to the crowd, some of whom threw the flag to them. They skated with the flags, proud of being Americans. The Canadians did the same.
It all felt damn good.
The medal ceremony later felt even better. He fought back tears when the national anthem was played, and in the end, just let the tears fall, knowing his teammates were crying, too.
It was an emotional moment to play for your country, to know you'd given everything you had out there, and had come out victorious.
It was a moment he'd never forget.
*
AMBER HAD CRIED WATCHING WILL AND HIS TEAMMATES receive their gold medals. She'd been so moved, watching those guys tear up, letting their emotions out.
She knew she wouldn't see Will tonight. He and his teammates would have so many interviews with the media, and they deserved to celebrate their win. She sent him a text message letting him know how proud she was of him, how amazing he'd played and she'd see him in the morning. She had her own big day tomorrow, so she needed to get some rest.
She and all her friends had been there to watch him. She was hoarse from all the screaming she'd done. It had been the most incredible game she'd ever watched.
Lisa had told her she was going to hang out with Blake at his place, so after saying good night to them, she made her way back to her apartment alone.
Her phone buzzed. It was her mother. She punched the button.
"Hi, Mom."
"Hello, Amber. What are you doing?"
"I went to the hockey game tonight. Now I'm heading back to my apartment to get ready for bed."
"I see."
Her mother did not see. "Did you watch the game?"
"I did not. Your father flew in tonight."
Amber felt that twinge of excitement she always did when her dad was mentioned. "He did? So he's going to be there for my performance tomorrow night?"
"Of course he is. We thought perhaps you might like to have breakfast with us tomorrow morning."
"I'd love to. I have practice at nine a.m. Is seven thirty too early?"
"No, that'll be fine. Where would you like to meet?"
Amber named a restaurant just outside the village.
"We'll be there. So you're going to sleep now?"
"As soon as I get back to the apartment, yes." Though she was so hyped up from the game, she doubted she'd fall asleep for a while.
"That's good. You need your rest. Tomorrow is a big day."
"Yes, it is. I'm very excited about it."
"We'll talk about it tomorrow, Amber."
"Sure, Mom. I'll see you then."
She hung up and tucked her phone back in her pocket.
Will had such an amazing night. She was so thrilled for him.
Hopefully she'd have an equally great night tomorrow. She was so excited about her skate tomorrow, she wished she could will away the next several hours. She was ready now.
Seeing them place that medal around Will's neck, watching that smile on his face, motivated her like nothing ever had.
She wanted that gold medal. And she intended to get it.
Tomorrow.
TWENTY-SEVEN
"HOW'S WORK, DAD?"
Her father looked up from his phone, then smiled at her. "Oh. Busy, like always. Just picked up a new client in Manhattan. Prestigious one, too. They have branches all up and down the eastern seaboard, so it'll require some travel, but worth it."
He resumed scrolling through his e-mails.
"Great."
Amber waited, but he hadn't once asked about her or how she was doing, or comment on her short program. Had he even watched it? Surely he had. She hoped he had.
She started to ask, then stopped herself, tapping her fingernails on the table of the restaurant where she was having breakfast with her parents.
"You sure you feel prepared enough? That you've practiced enough?"
Amber tried not to be offended by her mother's questions. "Yes, Mom. I'm totally ready for this. If I could have skated last night, I would have. I'm very excited."
"That's good. You know how nervous I get before you skate."
Her mom was always way more nervous about her skating performances than Amber was. "It'll be fine. I intend to be amazing."
"You're always amazing," her dad said without looking up from his phone.
"Thanks, Dad." At least she knew he'd been listening. Or at least partially listening, which was more likely.
"And how are your . . . friends?"
Her mother had used the word "friends" like one would ask "And how is your rotting garbage?" She'd even grimaced. Then again, Mom had never been one to mask her displeasure.
"My friends are awesome, Mom. We hang out together all the time."
"And this Will person that you seem to focus on. Is he what you might call a . . . boyfriend?"
And "boyfriend" was referred to along the lines of some kind of growth that her mother would like removed from her daughter immediately. Amber would have laughed if it wasn't so freaking irritating.
"I don't know. We haven't defined our relationship yet."
Her dad lifted his head from his phone. "Wait. What? You're in a relationship with a boy?"
"He's hardly a boy, Dad. You do realize I'm twenty-four."
Her father slid his glasses down his nose. "You are? When did that happen?"
She laughed. "I don't know. The past twenty-four years?"
He took his glasses off and laid them on the table on top of his phone, then looked her over. "So it did. And you might be dating a guy. Did you hear that, Denise? Our baby girl has a boyfriend."
Her mother wrinkled her nose. "She did not say 'boyfriend.' Either way, it's not a good idea for Amber to be seeing anyone."
"Why not? It's good for her to get out and meet new people, date some guys, have some fun."
Mom looked at Dad. "Oh, really, Alan. Right before the biggest performance of her career, you think she should be carousing with some guy, out 'til all hours, doing God knows what?"
Her dad shot her an open-mouthed shocked look meant to make fun of her mother.
"Oh, my God, Amber," he said. "Are you carousing?"
Amber bit down on her lip to keep from laughing. "I'm not carousing. Promise."
"Go ahead and laugh at me," her mother said. "But when you lose focus and fall on the ice tonight, don't blame me. Blame the guy you've given all your attention to. And your friends."
"Denise," her dad said. "That's uncalled for."
Her mother threw up her hands. "What am I supposed to say? That we've spent the majority of Amber's life preparing her for this moment, and it's okay that she throws it all away because suddenly she wants to go have some fun?"
Her dad gave her mother a look, then turned his focus to Amber. "Have you been practicing?"
"Every day."
"How do you feel about your program?"
"Solid."
"And your chances of winning gold?"
She smiled at her dad. "I feel really good about it, Dad."
He turned back to Amber's
mother. "Relax, Denise. Let our daughter enjoy herself a little. She's been working her entire life for this. She's also an adult now. Give her the chance to prove she knows what she's doing."
Her father had been the busiest man she'd ever known. He'd often missed some of her critical performances. Sometimes he was off in his own world, focused on his work.
But when he was on and with her, he was really with her.
"Thanks, Dad."
Her mother, on the other hand, had been with her every step of the way.
And it was still hard as hell to get her mom to believe in her.
And it broke her heart.
TWENTY-EIGHT
AMBER HAD TWO HOURS TO KILL BEFORE SHE HAD TO report to the ice arena. Lisa and Blake had gone down the mountain today, but Lisa told her they'd be back in time to see her performance.
Will had some media interviews this afternoon, but they'd talked on the phone this morning. He'd told her he'd see her before she went on tonight. She just didn't know when or if he'd even make it on time. Often interviews went longer than expected. Which would be fine. She didn't have to see him.
So when there was a knock on her door, she had no idea who it was. She went to the door and looked out the peephole, her heart squeezing when she saw Will standing outside. She quickly opened the door and threw herself into his arms.
"I didn't expect to see you," she said.
He put his arms around her and hugged her tight.
"Hey, I told you I'd see you."
They walked into the apartment and she shut the door. "But I know how interviews go and they often run longer than expected."
He took off his coat and laid it on the hook by the door. "Yeah, these were about to do that, but I asked our rep to get them wrapped up. I had a very important appointment."
"Oh, you did?"
"Yeah." He led her over to her sofa and sat, then pulled her onto his lap. "My lady has a big night. I needed to see her before she goes on and wows the crowd with her skating."
She inhaled a deep breath. She kissed him, a long, slow kiss meant to convey how she felt about him. When she pulled back, she smiled. "Congratulations on last night. It was epic."
"It kind of was, wasn't it? I can't even put into words how it felt. It was a hard game."
"Yes, it was. It was so tense, and when Canada went up by two goals, I realized it was going to be a rough comeback for your team."
He rubbed his hand over her hip, causing skitters of delightful goose bumps to break out all over.