Shutout (Rules of the Game, #2)(72)

Having a meltdown at school must have been somewhat cathartic because my mental state improves marginally after that.

After I get home, I collapse into bed and take a two-hour nap. I sleep like the dead, and when I wake up it almost feels like a new day—which is fortunate because I agreed to go watch the guys play tonight at Northview Arena.

I poke my head out of my room to find the house empty. I’d forgotten how superstitious hockey players are. Apparently, Chase, Dallas, and Tyler have an elaborate game day routine that starts the moment they wake up, stretches into the afternoon, and carries them all the way to puck drop. My brain took a mini-vacation when Chase tried to explain the specifics, but I gather that it involves a pre-game nap, a meal at a specific restaurant, and a handful of assorted other eccentricities. Hence why they’re not home.

Tyler is allegedly the most superstitious of them all, as goalies tend to be. That probably explains why he’s been distant all day via text. His stress levels show some days more than others. He hasn’t been playing along much with twenty-one questions today, and I’m trying not to take it personally.

I microwave some leftover spaghetti and meatballs, then check my missed texts from when I was asleep. There’s one from Abby I promptly ignore without reading it, and another from Bailey confirming our plans tonight.

Bailey: Do you still want to come to the game with us?





Sera: Yep. What time?





Bailey: Shiv and I can pick you up at 6:30.





When they pull up to get me in Siobhan’s car, I’m oddly nervous. Not having a matching jersey like they both do makes me feel like the odd one out. I should have stolen some of Chase’s Falcons gear, but it’s too late now. The Falcons beanie I stole from Tyler will have to suffice. It’ll also help keep me warm because Bailey tells me Northview Arena is freezing.

Traffic is a nightmare as we draw closer to the venue, and parking is even worse. When we step inside, it’s swarming with people. It might sound silly, but I’d forgotten how big of a deal college hockey is at some schools. It wasn’t much of a thing at ASU. At Boyd, hockey players are full-on celebrities.

Because a hockey game isn’t a hockey game without snacks, we grab popcorn, candy, and drinks at the concession before pushing through the crowd to our seats. We’re early enough to catch the end of warm-ups, and a little buzz of excitement runs through me when I spot Tyler standing in front of the net as the guys take practice shots on him. I’m not sure whether he’s happy I’m here or not. It was a little hard to get a read on his reaction when I told him I was coming.

The arena, like Bailey warned me ahead of time, is freaking freezing. It may even be colder than it is outside. Thankfully, I wore extra layers beneath my clothes, including one of the warmest wool sweaters I own.

“Who are they playing tonight again?” I ask, turning to face the girls. Bailey is in the middle of us, and Siobhan is seated on her other side.

Bailey makes a face as she reaches for another hand of popcorn. “Callingwood. My school.”

“Oh, shit. Is that awkward for you? Because your brother…?” Who would I cheer for if Chase and Tyler were on opposite sides, anyway? Tough call. Chase is my brother and all, but he can be a real pain in the ass.

“A little.” She shrugs. “I’m used to it by now. It’s sort of a win-win. Or I guess it’s lose-lose, depending how you look at it.”

“Boyd versus Callingwood games are always bloodbaths,” Shiv chimes in. “Expect a lot of penalties, especially from your brother.”

Chase takes a lot of penalties to begin with, so that’s really saying something.

Siobhan isn’t wrong. The game is a total barn burner. High scoring, high penalty minutes, and high drama on the ice. It’s clear the teams hate each other, as evidenced by the constant sneaky shots and cheap jabs they both keep taking at one another. I even catch some things directed at Tyler, which is considered extra dirty as far as hockey code goes. He gets annoyed enough to slash one guy in return, but the officials seem to miss it.

Halfway in, the score is tied three-three. Even at a distance, I can tell Tyler’s upset. His body language makes that much clear. It isn’t solely his doing; there are a lot of factors at play. Both teams are playing sloppy, which includes nonexistent defense, and the goalies are being hung out to dry. Tyler is a phenomenal goalie, and he’s having an off night.

The game takes an even worse turn after the third period starts. Callingwood scores again, but it gets called back due to goalie interference. Somehow, I don’t think that’s of any comfort to Tyler. Knowing him, he’s beating himself up for letting another puck get by.

“He’s getting hammered out there,” I say, watching him reset his position between the posts. It’s incredibly hard to watch. I’ve never seen things from the goalie’s perspective the way I do now. Every time a shot slips past him, I feel a little sick.

“Do you think they’ll pull Ty?” Siobhan tears open a package of Skittles, offering us some.

Bailey shakes her head, her gaze still glued to the play. “No.”

“Probably not,” I reply at the same time.

Though I’m not sure which is worse: getting pulled or getting lit up like he is right now.