Power Play: A Second Chance Hockey Romance (Sinners on the Ice)
Power Play: A Second Chance Hockey Romance: Chapter 39

Now, June

If someone had told me when I was signing my contract with the Thunders that all my dreams would come true this year, I probably wouldn’t have believed them. What were the chances that everything going on in my personal life and in my career would be positive? It seemed only logical that something would go awry because what I usually hear is that you can’t have everything. Sacrifices must be made.

That’s what I thought, but it’s definitely not how it all worked out.

I’m finally with the girl of my dreams. And we’re not just dating—last month, she and Maya moved in with me. Living in two houses, with me constantly being on the road and her being busy with preparations for her flower shop opening, some days we didn’t even see each other.

I grew tired of it pretty quickly, and one day I flat out asked her to move in with me. She agreed, making me feel like the happiest man in the world. That’s Layla and Maya’s effect on me, and it never dims. It gets stronger.

But I was worried about how having it all in my personal life would affect my career. It didn’t. It kinda feels like it actually gave my career and the Thunders the boost we all so desperately needed.

We got ourselves into the playoffs. We beat Tampa Bay, moving forward with four wins and two losses. Our next opponent was New York, and we made our fans nervous as hell by losing the first two games but then winning four in a row. The highs and lows of those wins and losses were something else. We had a few guys on the team who literally stopped talking after the wins, only saying something the next day, when they had a chance to calm down.

The games against Boston were the most brutal. Our win changed to our loss; their win changed to their loss. I barely slept the night before our fifth game, which ended in a final score of seven to three in our favor. Should I pretend that I slept better before our sixth game against Boston? I didn’t. We won again, but the score was way more modest—just three to two.

And that’s how we entered the Stanley Cup final against Pittsburgh, with three wins and three losses.

I can picture it all so vividly, concentrating on the game as it unfolds in front of my eyes. It’s the third period of game seven.

Drake gave us a one to zero lead in the third minute of the first period, nine seconds after our first power play of the game expired. He played the puck from behind the net to Colton along the right wall, and Dean slammed a shot from there to the net. Then came a light push from Drake, interfering with the path of the puck by getting his stick out in front, deflecting it down and through Pittsburgh’s goalie’s legs.

Pittsburgh got back on track pretty quickly when their center scored on a breakaway, making it one to one at the fifth minute. After that, both teams spent most of the first period trying to score and playing defense, depending on which team had the puck. From my point of view, it seemed as if everyone was still replaceing their game, looking for better chances and trying their best to capitalize on their opportunities.

When the first period ended, the score on the jumbotron was still one to one.

Colt is a great player. He always has been. Watching him carve the ice with his skates when he rushes to the opponent’s net, how skillfully he searches for openings and creates opportunities, is a real pleasure. I’m not surprised he was the one who gave us a two-to-one lead at the eleventh minute of the second period. A low, short-sided shot from inside the right face-off circle ended with the puck landing behind Pittsburgh’s goalie.

No matter how hard both teams worked, we went to the locker room with the score in our favor—two to one.

The third period is fast and hard. Pittsburgh is determined to score again and turn the game around. They play aggressively, trying to instigate several fights. To no one’s surprise, Roman is the one who ends up in a fight with Pittsburgh’s enforcer. One black eye doesn’t stop him, and Roman clears the puck away from the Pittsburgh crease. The puck goes to Dean, who moves it up to Drake.

Drake looks for a pass as he goes through the neutral zone and across the blue line, but eventually, he decides to shoot. With an absolutely perfect snap shot, he squeezes the puck through Pittsburgh’s goalie, making the score three to one.

“So far so good!” I yell to Roman when he skates past me. A smile blooms on his face when he nods at me, our eyes meeting for a brief moment.

It’s a feeling. A moment when you know that your team is going to win. It happens too when you realize you’re about to lose. The level of desperation is through the roof. Our team is trying to play defense, and hopefully they’ll have a chance to score again, while the other team shows its claws. They’re ready to rip us a new one in their attempts to score.

“Hoping to win?” I ask a Pittsburgh player, mostly to play on his nerves but also because I’m shit at controlling myself when I’m nervous.

It wasn’t my brightest moment for sure because the next thing I know he’s slamming into me, and then the net, and then both of us smack into the boards. A whoosh of air springs out of my throat when he punches me in my gut. Fucker.

Before I have a chance to hit him back, the guy is ripped away from me. My teammates crowd him, with Roman holding him by his collar. It takes a while for the linesmen to pull both teams away from each other.

When the game resumes, Roman dives into the crease to help keep the puck out of our net, preserving our lead at the fifteenth minute. The score is still three to one.

Freezing the puck in the corner for the last nine seconds of the third period brings us a win.

The California Thunders have won the Stanley Cup for the first time in the team’s history. The first time in my fucking career! I’m on cloud nine, I swear.

“We fucking won!” I yell, skating at full speed to my teammates.

The euphoria, the happiness, the vividness of the scene. I don’t see anyone clearly, let alone think clearly, but a thought still appears in my mind. It makes my smile wider.

I won, and my career is going great.

It’s time to win in my personal life too. This time forever.

“You allowed fifteen goals on sixty-three shots in the three previous games,” Alexandra, a hockey reporter, tells me, a dashing smile on her lips. “Tonight, you made seven saves in the first period, eight in the second, and ten more in the third. What’s your secret, Clay?”

She caught me on my way to the locker room, when all I wanted was a shower. But I still stayed to have a little chat with her.

“I’ve been trying to distance myself from everything before the game,” I comment. “I think the fact that my family is here with me, that they flew to Pittsburgh to support me and my team, did the trick. Yesterday, I spent the evening watching TV with my girlfriend and playing with my daughter. They both gave me a boost of confidence, filled me with positive energy, and fueled my desire to win. They are my motivation, my biggest fans. They inspire me to be the best of the best, and when I stepped on the ice today, I really felt that. I was ready to win, and we did.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet.” She tilts her head to the side. “Though I didn’t know you have a daughter. It’s a great surprise, and I’m very happy for you.”

I grin, realization dawning on me. I called Maya my daughter on national TV. “Thank you. Bye, Alexandra. It was a real pleasure talking to you.”

“The feeling is mutual! Thank you, Clay. Bye.” She waves and turns on her heel, her eyes scanning the crowd for someone else to talk to.

I better go change.

I have a very important question to ask.

“And why are we here again?” Layla asks, pulling on my hand to make me halt in my tracks. “Clay, I asked you a question.”

“I forgot my helmet,” I lie. Damn, I’m so nervous, my bowtie feels like a noose. “Once I pick it up, we can go meet the others. Okay?”

“Fine.” She squints at Maya, who’s walking by her side, her fingers wrapped around her palm. “Are you warm enough, sweetheart?”

Maya nods, her pigtails swaying back and forth. Her steps are carefree and light. She’s clearly enjoying herself.

We walk straight to the ice rink, and the moment Layla realizes where we are, she pauses. “I thought you said you forgot your helmet.”

“I kinda lied,” I admit.

“Wh—” She falls quiet because she sees our friends standing on the ice in a half circle.

Colt and Ava with their kids. Roman and Nevaeh, Drake, Dean, and Dylan. I invited Angie, but with the twins being only three months old, she stayed home with her mom and sister. Though, based on the phone in Drake’s hand, I’m pretty sure she’s seeing what’s happening.

Layla lets go of Maya’s hand, and she goes to stand beside Michael. With a deep breath, I get on one knee in front of Layla. Her eyes, full of unshed tears, are glued to me.

“Layla, I don’t think there are enough words in my vocabulary to describe how much I love you. Nothing feels right. Nothing feels like enough. My feelings for you are bigger than this universe, bigger than the history of humanity. From the moment I first saw you at the coffee shop, my life changed in ways I couldn’t anticipate. Since the moment I first kissed you on campus, I knew you were it for me. There wasn’t a single hesitation, not the tiniest doubt. I always knew you were the one for me, even when we were apart. Even when we didn’t see each other. I felt your heart from miles away because it was beating in time with my own.

“You are my everything. My favorite girl. My best friend. With you, I know anything is possible, and I know that for you I will do absolutely anything. There are no borders I wouldn’t cross, no wishes I wouldn’t fulfill for you. You make me a better person, and every moment that I get to spend with you, I am reminded of how lucky I am.

“I love you. I have for the longest time—at this point, I don’t think I can remember a day when you weren’t on my mind. You are my constant. My true north. You are my heart, the person I want to spend forever with. Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” She says it so quickly, I know there aren’t any second thoughts. She’s all in, just like I am. And I’m the happiest guy in the world. Our friends are clapping and cheering for us while still giving us a moment to ourselves.

I stand up and put the ring on her finger. The one I bought for her four years ago, always knowing she would be the one I gave it to someday.

Layla lifts her hand, admiring the ring. A round, brilliant, half-carat diamond is set in the center of a classic platinum band. Suddenly, she frowns, her eyes replaceing me. “Wait…Is this Harry Winston?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my God, Clay.” Tears stream down her face, her lips trembling. I take a step toward her but stop when I feel a tiny hand wrap around my fingers.

I peer down at Maya, and tenderness fills me to the brim. She smiles at me. “Maya, I’m going to marry your mommy. What do you think? Can I?”

The smile on her face dies, and behind her pink glasses, her eyes fill with tears. Her chin starts trembling, and she hauls Bon-Bon to her chest and holds her close. I freeze; fear immobilizes me. It’s not the reaction I was hoping for, and now I feel like my heart is breaking in two.

“What’s wrong, Princess?” I kneel to her, my eyes searching her face.

Maya steps into me, staying quiet. Then she opens her mouth and asks, “And you will be my daddy?”

Layla gasps behind me. Joy overwhelms me, pinning me to the spot. Happy tears slowly leak down my cheeks.

“I’d love to, Maya.” I level my eyes with hers. “Can I be your daddy? Will you let me?”

Instead of an answer, she jumps into my arms and winds her hands around my neck, hugging me tightly. “I love you, Daddy,” she whispers in my ear, and in that moment I know it was all worth it. Even the pain of my broken heart.

Every decision I made, every step I took, led me here. Led me to them.

To my girls.

To my happily ever after.