Penalty for Boarding (Curves on Ice #3)

20. Olivia

OLIVIA

I ’ve stood behind the bench during hundreds of games during my career, and they’ve all been amazing, fueled by the electric energy of the crowd hoping for their team to win. But for me, none of those games can measure up to the anticipation I feel just watching Calvin glide across the ice during warm-ups. His movements are fluid, confident—a far cry from the stiffness that plagued him at the start of the season. And what makes this even better is that I know he’s mine, and that we can be together for the whole world to see openly. So much has changed in barely a month.

“Look at you, rocking that jersey like you were born to wear it,” Sara teases, bumping my shoulder as she joins me at the boards. She's wearing Emile's number, while Natalie beside her sports Luc's captain jersey.

“Can’t let those puck bunnies think they were ever in with a chance.” I laugh, tugging at the BARRETT emblazoned across my back. “That man is mine and mine alone.”

“Sing it loud,” Natalie agrees, nudging me with a playful grin. “I’ve got my eyes on my own prize tonight, though. Luc is going to bring his A-game. Just wait until you see him out there. Those ballet classes you set them all up with did wonders for his knee. You’d never know he was out for three games the way he’s skating nowadays.”

I'm about to respond when movement on the ice catches my attention. Calvin's working through the new stretching routine we developed, and I feel a surge of pride seeing how much more stable his ankle looks. The Nighthawks have given me free rein to set up injury prevention programs for the players—something I could never do without needing to compromise before—and the combination of targeted Pilates, strategic strength training, and yes, even ballet, has worked wonders for the whole team. I’m feeling incredibly proud and blessed right now.

Speaking of ballet... I spot Declan showing off near the blue line, demonstrating the improved flexibility he swears has nothing to do with our new dance instructor, Victoria. The way his eyes follow her when she's in the training facility suggests otherwise, though.

“Someone's trying to impress the ballerina,” Sara whispers, following my gaze.

“Can you blame him?” Natalie adds with a knowing smirk. “I've never seen the boys so eager to work on their 'core strength' since she started.”

I can’t hide my giggle. “You should have seen how against it they were in the beginning. Then Victoria walked in, and the drool that fell from their mouths could have caused a host of injuries alone. Who knew a ballet instructor from Peach Springs would end up being our secret weapon for getting the team to embrace ballet?”

“Small-town girl makes it big,” Sara agrees with a laugh. “Though watching Declan try to impress her with his pirouettes while begging for those famous Dougherty's peach pastry recipes is pretty entertaining.”

“Speaking of food,” Natalie adds. “I went out to Clearwater last week and sampled the food at your family’s Italian restaurant. I even got talking with your grandmother who, once she realized who I was, sent me home with a box of cannolis. Oh, my god. Amazing. I ordered a box for us to enjoy at tonight's post-game dinner. I know they aren’t the French-Creole fusion my restaurant is known for. But since we’re celebrating your contribution to the team tonight, I figured something sweet and quintessentially you was in order.”

My stomach growls in anticipation. I haven’t been able to make it out to Clearwater to visit my grandmother and eat at Angelo’s for months. “You're the best! Now I really can’t wait for this game to be over. I’m starving just thinking about those cannolis.”

“I think I can help you there,” a voice says from behind me. I turn to see Victoria, her curves wrapped in Nighthawks workout gear, and a box from Dougherty's Bakehouse balanced carefully in her hands. She beams at me. She’s still got that small-town warmth about her, even after months in the big city.

“What is this?”

“I brought reinforcements,” she announces, lifting the box. “Peach danishes—Shelby's new recipe. They’re not cannolis, but they should tide you over until dinner tonight.”

“They will definitely help me out!” Sara says, grabbing a pastry from the box then giggling as she gestures to where several players seem to have noticed Victoria's arrival and suddenly seem very interested in stretching closer to where we're standing.

“Declan!” Victoria calls out, making him jump guiltily. “Your turnout is slipping. Remember what we worked on yesterday?”

He immediately adjusts his stance, earning snickers from his teammates. The tips of his ears turn pink, but he beams when Victoria gives him an approving nod.

“I still can't believe how quickly you got them all to embrace ballet,” I tell her, biting into a delicious pastry.

“Honey, when you grow up in Peach Springs, you learn how to sweeten up the most sour attitudes,” Victoria says with a wink. “Though I have to admit, trading small-town recitals for professional hockey players wasn't exactly in my five-year plan.”

“Neither was moving to the big city,” Natalie adds. “But look at you now—teaching ballet to an NHL team and still managing to get home often enough to keep us supplied with Dougherty's famous pastries.”

“Speaking of which,” Victoria says, taking a pastry for herself from the box. “I’ve resisted eating these for long enough.” She licks her lips. “Oh, come to mama!” We all laugh as she takes a big bite, her eyes rolling back in delight.

Our pregame pastries disappear quickly, and the familiar voice of the announcer booms through the arena.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome your Sugar City Nighthawks!”

I glance across to where my dad is sitting, decked out head-to-toe in his Nighthawks gear. His face is beaming with pride, and I smile to myself, remembering how he nearly passed out when I first introduced him to Calvin. My hockey-obsessed father, who'd watched Calvin's entire career and has a signed jersey framed in his man cave, had been rendered completely speechless. It took him three attempts just to shake Calvin's hand, and now here he is, getting VIP access to his favorite team because his ‘baby girl’—as he still calls me—is not only dating one of the greatest defensemen to play the game but is also helping extend careers and prevent injuries for the whole team. The way he brags about me to his friends at the sports bar makes me blush, but I love how happy this has made him. In his eyes, I'm living the dream—and honestly, I really am.

“Here we go,” Sara breathes, grabbing my hand as the arena erupts and the Nighthawks hit the ice. Calvin catches my eye through the display. Even with his game face on, he manages to throw me that devastating wink and grin that never fails to make my heart skip. I blow him a kiss and then he's all business, skating into position with that fierce focus I've come to love. The crowd's excitement is palpable, but mine feels different now. Deeper. More personal. After all, I'm not just watching anymore—I'm part of this. Part of the family that these amazing women beside me, along with all those men on the ice, have helped create.

“Go get ‘em boys!” Natalie calls out as the puck drops.

The game moves at lightning speed, bodies colliding and skates cutting sharp paths across the ice. Calvin's first shift shows exactly why he's earned his reputation as one of the league's top defensemen.

“Now that's what I call proper edge work,” I murmur, recognizing the techniques we've been drilling.

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Natalie teases, but her eyes are locked on the ice where Luc just made a spectacular save. She cheers for him loudly.

The first period flies by in a blur of action, the teams trading chances but neither finding the back of the net. During the intermission, I watch Calvin going through his mobility exercises, knowing exactly which muscles need attention to keep him playing at peak performance.

“You've really made such a difference to things around here,” Sara says over the din. “I've never seen them all so... balanced. Strong.”

“The ballet was genius,” Natalie adds. “Even if Victoria’s pretty face was what finally convinced them to try it.”

Victoria gasps. “That so was not the reason!”

“It so was,” Sara puts in.

I laugh at their banter, thinking of how the guys had grumbled when I first suggested incorporating dance training. But the results speak for themselves—better balance, improved core strength, fewer injuries. And if a certain beautiful ballet instructor has caught Declan's eye in the process... well, that's just a bonus.

“Whatever motivation worked, I’m just glad it did,” I say. “A strong team means a happy me.”

The second period starts with renewed intensity. Calvin makes a beautiful play, breaking up what looked like a sure goal before sending a perfect outlet pass up ice. The crowd roars as the Nighthawks capitalize, taking the lead for the first time.

“That's my man,” I whisper, unable to keep the pride from my voice.

Sara squeezes my hand. “And this is exactly where you both belong.”

Looking around at these women who've become my closest friends, at the team that's become my family, at the man who's become my everything—I know she's right. Sometimes the best things in life come from taking the biggest risks. And as I watch Calvin dominate on the ice, stronger and more confident than ever, I know we made the right choice.

This is home. We're exactly where we're meant to be. Together.