The crowd gave a loud cheer, and U2’s familiar guitar intro to Where The Streets Have No Name began to swell under the announcer’s words. “Allow me to introduce your team. From Etna, Connecticut, your captain Adam Hartley!”

  Now, you’d think that our bench would cheer the loudest, but it sounded to me as if every female at Harkness College gave a fan girl scream. One by one, the players skated to their blue line as they were introduced. “From Harkness, Connecticut, left wing Bridger McCaulley!” Lucy popped up to shriek along with a couple thousand other fans, and even from the tenth row I could see that Bridger’s smile was enormous.

  “All rise,” boomed the announcer over the sound system. “…For the National Anthem, sung for you tonight by Harkness’s own Something Special.”

  “This is it!” Lucy said, standing up, putting a hand over her heart.

  The lights dimmed, and the crowd grew quiet. On the upper deck, the girls’ singing group leaned in to their microphones and sang the national anthem. I must be turning into a giant sap, because I actually teared up. There was no place in the world I’d rather be tonight than here.

  From the face-off on, I was glued to the action. Both teams wanted this game bad. It was fast, intense, and glorious. The only bad moment was when Bridger was cross-checked into the boards. He went down hard, and Lucy panicked a little.

  “He’s fine,” I insisted, pulling her into my lap. “Just give him a second.”

  Coach Smith tapped Lucy on the shoulder, offering her a Skittle. And by the time the little girl turned back toward the ice, Bridger was skating again.

  I looked over my shoulder. “Thank you,” I mouthed.

  Then Coach leaned in. “Will you have coffee with me next week? I’d like to stay in touch.”

  I wasn’t expecting that. The idea that Coach wanted to chat about next season sent butterflies into my stomach. I took a deep breath of the icy rink air and let myself consider it. The sounds echoing around me — of steel scraping ice, and the puck smacking the boards — were as familiar to me as breathing.

  “You know, I’d like that,” I told her.

  “Awesome,” she said.

  I turned back then, to catch Bridger hopping over the wall for his shift. Lucy wiggled in my lap, and the puck skidded across my line of vision. I checked the clock. There were only two minutes left in the period.

  It was the goalie’s job to see the whole ice at once. I’d spent the past few months feeling that I’d failed at the job. But tonight I understood that if you kept your heart in the game, there would always be one more period to play. And excellent people to play it with.

  Game on.

  Chapter Twenty Two: Thank You

  Thank you!

  Thanks for reading The Year We Hid Away. I hope you enjoyed it!

  Would you like to know when my next book is available? You can sign up for my new release e-mail list at my contact page, follow me on twitter at @sarinabowen, or like my Facebook page at http://facebook.com/authorsarinabowen

  Reviews help other readers find books. I appreciate all reviews, whether positive or negative.

  Ready for More?

  You’ve just read the second full-length book in the Ivy Years series.

  By fall 2014, there will be three novels and a novella

  (Hint: Andy & Katie’s date is going to make a terrific short story! The title: Blond Date)

  Have you read book #1? The Year We Fell Down is Hartley and Corey’s story:

  The sport she loves is out of reach. The boy she loves has someone else. What now?

  She expected to start Harkness College as a varsity ice hockey player. But a serious accident means that Corey Callahan will start school in a wheelchair instead.

  Across the hall, in the other handicapped-accessible dorm room, lives the too-delicious-to-be real Adam Hartley, another would-be hockey star with his leg broken in two places. He’s way out of Corey’s league.

  Also, he’s taken.

  Nevertheless, an unlikely alliance blooms between Corey and Hartley in the “gimp ghetto” of McHerrin Hall. Over tequila, perilously balanced dining hall trays, and video games, the two cope with disappointments that nobody else understands.

  They’re just friends, of course, until one night when things fall apart. Or fall together. All Corey knows is that she’s falling. Hard.

  But will Hartley set aside his trophy girl to love someone as broken as Corey? If he won’t, she will need to find the courage to make a life for herself at Harkness — one which does not revolve around the sport she can no longer play, or the brown-eyed boy who’s afraid to love her back.

  To be kept up to date on the publication of

  The Ivy Years Series

  Sign up for my mailing list at www.sarinabowen.com/contact

  About the Author

  Sarina Bowen is a Vermonter whose ancestors cut timber and farmed the north country since the 1760s. Sarina is grateful for the invention of indoor plumbing, espresso products and wi-fi during the intervening 250 years. On a few wooded acres, she lives with her husband, two kids, and an ungodly amount of ski and hockey gear.

  Sarina is the author of Coming in From the Cold, published 2014 by Harlequin.

  — Copyright Page

  eISBN: 978-0-9910680-3-6

  THE YEAR WE HID AWAY

  Copyright © 2014 by Sarina Bowen

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of author Sarina Bowen.

  For permissions, contact the author at www.sarinabowen.com/contact

  This is the Amazon edition, compiled 5/20/2014

 


 

  Sarina Bowen, The Year We Hid Away

 


 

 
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