Hold Me Forever: a feel-good romance (The Maxwell Brothers)

“Aaaaaand I give you Tyler Maxwell. That’s right. Our favorite goalie is playing again,” the Blades’ longtime announcer screeched over the microphone, and the sound echoed off the arena.

It was my first time back on the ice, and it felt intoxicating—like I was on top of the world. Nothing compared to this. Absolutely nothing.

I was in the best shape of my life because I’d taken good care of my body during training. Our new goalie had made a few mistakes I wouldn’t have made this season. But this game, Jett was struggling from the start, and though we were leading, Coach Benjamin decided to put me in during the last period. We only had seven minutes left on the ice, and I planned to make each of them count.

I drew in deep breaths. The ice-cold air pinched my nostrils. I skated to the left of the net and then the right.

Always stay in motion. An agile goalie is faster than a static one.

My first coach told me that in middle school, and it was the best advice I ever got.

My pulse thumped in my ears in the same rhythm as the cheering crowd. I zeroed in on the puck. When it passed center ice, the rhythm changed. My heartbeat was now in overdrive. It heightened and heightened until it drowned out the sounds of the crowd.

It was 3-2, Blades in the lead. If I saved this, we’d win.

I will save this.

I crouched forward, still moving but now in shorter bursts, only skating enough to keep my ankles in motion, ready to lunge in the right direction. Steve reached McLaren and Donnie—the top scorers from today’s opponent, the Giants—but I knew he wouldn’t be able to take the puck from them. They were just too fast.

I knew the moment McLaren would send the puck to me instead of Donnie before he even touched it. The stance of his shoulders changed—they were more rigid. He was bracing himself for the shot.

The next second, he swung the stick at the puck, sending it barreling my way.

Here was the tricky part about being a goalie. You had to decide if the puck was going to the left or the right before you could see its course. If you waited long enough to know the direction, it was too late. It would be a goal before you had a chance to block it.

The left.

I based the decision on gut and experience, and I lurched in that direction the next second. Holding my breath, I stretched my hands forward, gripping the stick tightly. I blocked the puck, sending it right to Steve. My body was alive with adrenaline, but I wasn’t in celebratory mode yet. It was still 3-2 for us, and we had one minute left. Not a lot of time for our opponents to score, but I’d seen it happen before.

This was not the time to relax or declare victory.

I broke the cardinal rule and stood still, hunched forward. Thirty seconds left.

I kept my eyes on the puck. McLaren took it from Steve and was speeding toward me once again.

Twenty seconds.

I couldn’t multitask when I was so full of adrenaline. I needed to focus or else risk taking my eyes off the puck.

Five seconds.

He was twenty feet away. He wouldn’t risk scoring from that distance.

Zero seconds.

We won!

My muscles spasmed before I became aware of the burning in my calves. The pounding in my eardrums continued, but it was different now. I could hear the surrounding sounds, not just my heartbeat.

The crowd erupted in cheers. The team, including Jett, surrounded me.

Yeah, this right here, this feeling of victory was what I lived for. My pulse thrummed to the same rhythm the fans were chanting.

“Fucking hell, we did it,” I said.

“Welcome back, man,” Steve yelled.

I looked at the stands, packed with fans celebrating, waving flags, hats, and other paraphernalia. Their happiness filled me with a particularly strong pride, and usually it was enough to make my evening, but now something was missing.

Someone was missing.

Kendra.

I wanted to see her in the stands and share this joy with her. I’d never wanted that with anyone I’d been with, but I craved it with her.

One by one we exited the ice and headed directly to the locker room.

‘Man, this was a great game. Way to make a comeback,’ Steve said.

‘Thanks, man. I appreciate it.’

Jett smiled as he clapped my shoulder. ‘You did a great job.’

‘Thanks,’ I said.

‘Dude, you’re going out with us, right?’ Steve said.

I nodded. ‘Of course. I want to celebrate this. It feels fucking amazing to be back on the ice.’

‘We’re happy to have you back, dude,’ Matthew added. He was our center and a damn genius in face-offs.

The next half hour was the usual madness of showering, changing, and then stopping to sign a few things for fans before we headed out to whatever bar we decided on. This time we went to an Irish pub in the area. We avoided sport bars as a rule.

I was on my second beer when my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a message from Kendra.

Kendra: Hello, Mr. Superstar Goalie. Any clue on when you’ll be home?

Tyler: I’m honestly not sure, but I can call you. I’m out with the guys celebrating.

She didn’t reply, and I was almost about to call her when a message popped up.

Kendra: Okay. Never mind. Just forget about my question. We can talk tomorrow.

Yeah, right. I didn’t like this one bit, so I gestured for the guys to be quiet. All I got instead were catcalls.

‘Are you all five years old?’ I said before walking away from the group.

I stepped outside and called Kendra back.

She answered after the third ring in a high-pitched voice. ‘Hey.”

‘Babe, what’s up?’

“Nothing. Just go have fun with the guys, and don’t worry about me.”

‘It’s me. I can tell you’re nervous. What is it? Where are you?’

‘Nooooo. Why did you ask me that? I didn’t want to lie to you.’

Alarm bells rang in my mind. ‘Babe?’

‘I’m at your condo, and I blanked out on the fact that you’d go celebrate.’

‘You’re at my place now?’ I asked.

‘Yeah.’

‘Put the doorman on the phone.’

‘Why?’

‘So I can tell him to let you in.’

‘Oh, okay. Here he is.’

‘Mr. Maxwell,’ he said in his usual no-nonsense tone.

‘Hi. Kendra’s my girlfriend, and you can let her in upstairs.’

‘Of course. I’ll do that right away.’

‘Put her back on, please.’

‘Yes, sir. And if I might say so, excellent game.’

‘Thanks.’

Interesting. He was so serious all the time that I wouldn’t have pegged him for someone who watched hockey.

“I’m back,” Kendra said.

‘Okay. He’ll take you upstairs. And I’ll be home in however long it takes me to get from here to the condo.’

‘What? No, just stay there with your teammates. I’ll be here when you come home.’

‘Babe, I’ve been dying to be with you ever since the game finished. I’m going to be home real fast.’

‘Okay. Then I can’t wait to spoil you… help all those muscles decompress.’

I laughed because she was throwing my words back at me. ‘I can’t wait. I’ll go say goodbye to the guys.’

‘Okay.’

Pocketing my phone, I headed inside, straight to our table. Only half the team was sitting down. The other half was at the bar.

‘Guys, it’s been a real treat being out here with you,’ I said, ‘but my girl is waiting at home for me, so I’m heading there.’ That earned me more catcalls.

Steve was the only one who just raised a beer and said, ‘That right there is a real man. Maybe one of these days, you’ll follow in his footsteps. Or mine.’

Half the guys shuddered. The others grimaced. Aside from Steve and me, they were all single and enjoying it. And they should. I sure as hell enjoyed it in my time. But now, that held zero appeal to me. I was taken, and I was proud of it, and I couldn’t wait to get home to my woman.

Half an hour later, I opened the door to my condo. The place smelled like cinnamon.

“Kendra?”

‘Hey.’ She poked her head out from the kitchen before running toward me and jumping in my arms. I caught her by her ass, and she immediately wrapped her legs around me.

I captured her mouth, kissing her like I hadn’t seen her in months, but I needed her more desperately than usual. I’d missed having her out there today, and I wanted her to know it.

The scent of vanilla caught my attention. Pulling back, I realized the whole place smelled like baked goods. ‘What’s smelling so good?’

‘I made you apple pie at home.”

I blinked, looking at her as I slowly put her down. ‘You baked for me?’

‘Yeah. I wanted to do something nice for you.’ She smiled sheepishly. ‘My paycheck didn’t deposit yet, so I couldn’t splurge the way I’d hoped, but I wanted to do something.’

I didn’t know why this meant so much to me. This woman literally lived one paycheck to the next, but she wanted to do something for me. ‘I’ll have the pie, and then I’ll have you.’

‘What? No, no, no.’ She twirled once, shimmying her hips. ‘You’re supposed to decompress after games.’

I laughed. ‘They just mean no workouts. Trust me.’

She took two plates, putting a slice on each, one for me and one for her, and it dawned on me that my place smelled like home for the first time. I had a flashback to my childhood when Gran’s house seemed to perpetually smell of something delicious, and this transported me right back there.

I took a bite, and she looked at me, narrowing her eyes.

‘Uh-oh, you’re not saying anything.’

‘It’s delicious. Thanks. I was lost in thought.’

‘About what?’

In a fraction of a second, I pulled her against me. ‘About you.’

My life had always revolved around hockey. During the season, I always had my eyes on the Stanley Cup. Being the best at hockey and making my teammates and parents proud were all I’d cared about.

But now I cared about making this woman happy and making it clear to her just how happy she made me in return.