I wanted that record, but more than I wanted that, I wanted to get back to the hotel, call Emmersyn and see how her day was.

God, thank goodness she listened to me the other day. I might not have been able to tell her everything I was feeling, but we had time for that.

We were in the locker room, the arena already going crazy with noise above our heads, echoing down the halls and making the floor tremble. We always had a decent Vipers crowd in Los Angeles. We were close enough that fans would travel, and so it was always a good game.

“All right. Let’s get out there. Show LA who they’re messing with. Keep your focus, play hard, and kick their asses!” Vik cried out and lifted his arm in the air.

“Let’s go!” Together, our sticks pounded the floor, Joey and Alix stomped their skates, and then we were off. Pounding down the halls, focusing.

As soon as I stepped onto the ice, I pushed everything back. The crowd cheered, but most booed. Oh well.

Focus. I grabbed the puck and dribbled it slowly as I skated a circle around the arena. The warm-ups were just that, meant for loosening tight limbs and getting us game ready. Tonight, as I skated past our bench, an asshole fan was hiding his face behind a sign he held. Vipers Suck.

Nice work. Had to hand it to the jerk, though. His use of glitter was sufficient. The entire sign sparkled in green and gold. Odd how a LA fan made a sign with our colors.

“Check it out,” Joey said and skated up next to me. “You see that shit?”

“I see it.”

“He’ll be an ass when we’re on the bench.”

Glass would be pounded. He’d be screaming. Probably drunk off his ass.

“More shit to filter out,” I said, and then that sign lowered, and a grin split my face from ear to ear.

“That fucking dick,” Joey said but was now bent over laughing.

Because it was Max. Max and Kimmy had seats behind our bench, and both of them were smiling, shaking the sign high in the air and laughing right back at us.

If I wasn’t on the ice and didn’t have to worry about cameras on me, I’d flip him the finger.

Instead, I blew Max a kiss and grabbed Joey as we skated away from him. “He told me a few weeks ago he wasn’t ready, that little shit.”

“Maybe something changed.”

“Or maybe he needed that moment. Eyes on him. A part of us.”

“We’ll make sure he comes to the hotel after, get a few drinks in him. It’d be good to see him.”

We knocked fists, and then we were off. We practiced our plays in slower formation and stretched. I skated up to Garrett and got down on the ice with him, stretching my hamstrings and made sure to put on a show for the fans in the stands—and Emmersyn at home.