Page 6 of The Defenseman

Which he did.

Alexa let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. Her heart pounded against her chest. She, along with everyone surrounding her, jumped up to their feet, threw their hands in the air, and started to scream with joy. Alexa had been to plenty of games before, and there were times that she found herself getting swept up in the excitement. But never before had she been this emotionally invested.

In her defense, Alexa had practically been raised in an ice rink. Because she refused to put on ice skates until she was seven, she got bored easily. Even now, she wasn't a huge hockey fan and tended to only watch the games in support of her brother. While Dan excelled as a goalie competitively, Alexa quietly played soccer and water polo and managed to acquire scholarships to different colleges for those sports.

Now, watching the game—watching Eric,more specifically—she could understand the fascination and obsession with it. These men were brute forces who didn't appear to be scared of anything. This, of course, made them reckless. She heard of players who had their teeth knocked out and returned their next shift, no problem. On the other hand, soccer players were falling to the ground because they were being breathed on and basketball players were carried out on stretchers when they pulled their muscle. Hockey was unlike any other sport she knew of.

The game progressed in the same way. It was an evenly matched game and both goalies were having great nights. Alexa's mother would call this game a "heart attack game" because there was no settling down. Besides the scheduled television timeouts and the seventeen-minute intermissions, there was no real chance at catching breath.

With three minutes and twenty-seven seconds left of the third period, Alexa was hunched forward, resting her elbows on her knees and looking to the left, where the Rangers was shooting and trying to get a puck in the back of the net, but they couldn't buy a goal.

Eric was at point—at the blue line—and he ripped a slapshot to the net. He wasn't expected to score, but someone might tip it in—whether on purpose or inadvertently.

Alexa stood up, trying to see where the puck landed. Everyone else in her section did the same.

There was a loud clang and the audience made a collective ooh! Eric had hit the post.

There was a scramble in front of the net. The Stars were trying to clear. The Rangers were trying to score.

"Come on, come on, come." Alexa bit her knuckle, trying to ignore how hard her heart was pounding to the point where it actually hurt.

The goal buzzer sounded. Somehow, the puck wound up in the back of the net. Alexa whooped. She didn't see what had happened. She didn't see who scored. This was when watching at home came in handy.

But the Rangers scored.

The final score was one to zero.

They won, and Dan had a shutout.

Alexa was more exhilarated than she thought was possible.