To say our season was off to a rough start would be an understatement. By the start of the third period, the Falcons were leading again with a score of four to two. Not great, but at least we were on the board.

Dallas Ward stole the puck from Paul, flying into our end zone like a streak of lightning. He dodged Derek’s defensive efforts, leaving him in the dust, and passed to Carter, who was perfectly positioned, as usual. The guy had the hockey IQ of a genius. It was infuriating.

Carter dug into the ice like a machine and came at the net before anyone could get near him. He wound up and sank it into the bottom left corner with a clean wrist shot, raising his stick up in victory as the puck sailed in.

It was a beautiful play, executed so quickly that Mendez didn’t stand a chance of stopping it. And as Carter’s third goal of the evening, it was a hat trick too. The Falcons fans in the crowd went wild, whistling and yelling his name. Chants of “nineteen” echoed around the arena as the Falcons on the bench gave him congratulatory fist bumps and helmet taps.

Ugh.

Both Carter and Ward were on fire tonight. Our team, not so much. But a score of five to two with fifteen minutes left meant we still had a fighting chance—in theory. Games could change on a dime. If everything was dialed in, it was more than possible to score two consecutive goals in the span of a minute or two. Then all it would take would be one more to tie it up.

It all boiled down to whether the Bulldogs stayed focused or let that fifth goal rattle them. Unfortunately, I had a feeling it would be the latter.

“Dammit,” Amelia groaned, covering her face. Her cheery-red nails hid her anguished expression. “The score is going the wrong way.”

“Still better than last week,” I said.

Chase hopped back onto the ice for another shift. Our gazes collided, and an electric jolt ran through my body. Goose bumps popped up on my arms beneath my black puffy down parka. He flashed me a drop-dead gorgeous cocky smile and winked before skating off to the other end.

Jillian poked me in the ribs. “Um, did Carter just wink at you?”

My stomach did a flip-flop, heart bounding against my ribcage. He did. He definitely did. What the hell was he thinking?

“Huh?” I squeaked, my voice was unnaturally high. “No. Must be a puck bunny nearby.” I turned around, pretending to survey the rows of seats behind us. The only other people seated nearby were a family of five with a baby and an elderly couple. Jillian and Amelia turned to look too, confirming as much.