With each day, the playoffs grew closer, and so did the standings in the Eastern Conference. As it stood, we were hanging on to the third-place position in our division. Barely. Three teams were right on our heels, trailing by only a point or two, and with a few weeks of games left to be played, anything could happen.

Every game was important, and one loss could end up being the difference between being on the ice or hitting the golf course come April.

And with that resolve in mind, I raced down the left side of the rink with the puck. Only when I neared the net, maneuvering around the defense, did I veer back towards the center, coming in at an angle to flip the puck over Nyberg's shoulder. Or at least I tried to. He moved his glove in the nick of time, capturing the puck and tossing it to the side.

"Next time, hold onto the puck for another second," one of the assistant coaches said as I skated to a stop beside him. "It'll make the goalie you're up against move across the crease with you, and if you shoot for their stick side, you'll have a bigger opening to score."

I nodded. "Got it."

After all, that's what practices were for. To improve. To iron out the problems and sharpen plays before they truly counted.

Filing the advice away, I put it to use a few rushes later when I skated the same route, tweaking my shot so it sailed straight into the netting.

Gradually, the 1-on-1 drills shifted to 2-on-1 drills, and then 3-on-2 drills, covering all the bases. We worked on offense, defense, our aggressiveness on rebounds, and our communication, preparing for the five-day road trip that started in Minnesota the next day. Three games in which we needed to shut down the opposing teams by controlling the puck and generating quality shots.

Which meant running drills for a variety of different scenarios over and over again until they were second nature to us all.

When the whistle blew hours later, signaling the end of practice, most of us were breathing hard as we gathered at the center of the ice.

"Good work today, men," Coach Davidson said, loud and proud. "You all put in the effort expected of you, some of even surpassing that bar, so head home. Rest up and get ready for tomorrow, because if you all play like I know you're capable of, Minnesota won't know what hit them." Hoots and hollers filled the air as the team agreed, causing Coach to shake his head in amusement. "Alright, alright, just remember, our flight leaves Logan at nine tomorrow morning, and if any of you are late, you'll be looking forward to riding the bench for a few games, understand?"

"Yes, sir," I said, in time with the rest of my teammate's affirmations.

Once we were dismissed, I took a slow lap around the ice, loosening up my muscles with elongated strides before following the line of men headed towards the locker room. Stripping out of my sweaty practice gear, I wrapped a towel around my waist, securing it with one hand and using the other to rummage through my bag for my phone.

There were a few notifications, but I ignored most of them to open the text from Jo.

I'm really sorry, but I'm going to have to bail on dinner tonight. The painters are just finishing up here and one of the designers I want to showcase at the boutique got in touch, wanting to meet while she's downtown tonight. I hope you understand!

I couldn't help but frown as I read the message, even with the sad face and heart emoji trailing after her words. On another level though, I understood. For me, it sucked because now I wouldn't get to see her for most of the week, but she was busy building her own career, and I couldn't fault her for it.

It's okay. Just focus on being a kick-ass entrepreneur and don't worry about me.

Three dots appeared almost instantly, signaling she was typing.

If it's not too late, I'll call you when I'm done, and maybe I'll stop by to wish you good luck on your road trip ;)

There was no stopping the stir in my chest, or my groin, at her clear insinuation, and while that certainly would be something to look forward to, I didn't want to get my hopes up.

I'll be waiting.

With my dinner plans now off the table, I held off on the shower, instead changing into a pair of athletic shorts and running shoes before making my way towards the on-site gym for an additional cool down. Clearly most of my teammates had the same idea, with most of the weight machines already spoken for when I got there, leaving me to settle for one of the treadmills.

Starting slow, I gradually built up speed, and by the time machines began to free up, I'd run nearly three miles. After grabbing a drink from the fountain, I headed for the open bench press on the far side of the room, readjusting the weights on the bar. It was when I settled into position, however, altering my grip on the iron, that Jack's face appeared a few feet above mine.

He quirked an eyebrow. "Need a spot?"

A light chuckle left my lips. "Sure," I replied, getting back into proper form as he moved behind me, keeping eye as I lifted the bar off its rack and began my reps.

Knowing the two of us were fairly even when it came to weights, I finished my first set and stood to switch spots. We alternated off and on, working through four sets each before switching to heavy dumbbells, but through it all, barely a word was said.

It'd been almost three weeks since Aimee had moved out of Jo's apartment, and while the adjustment hadn't in any way affect the comradery between Jack and I on the ice, there was an unspoken agreement between us not to get in the middle of it. Jo was slowly beginning to see that Aimee moving out had been for the best, and as far as I knew, Aimee was completely happy living with Jack.

Though I couldn't help but wonder how the pair had managed to deal with conflicting priorities and schedules for years when Jo and I seemed to be struggling after only a few months.

As Jack finished up his last set, bringing the dumbbells close to his chest before sitting up, I cast my gaze around the room to see we were the last men remaining. "So, are you up for something else, or are you about ready to pack it in?"

He moved to grab a small towel from the side table near the window, throwing it around his neck. "I should probably get going. I promised Aimee I'd be home to take her out tonight before the road trip."

I nodded in understanding, the next words coming without so much as a thought. "Yeah, I had the same plans."

"You don't anymore?"

Shaking my head, I explained, "Jo cancelled."

Jack cringed. "That sucks, man."

"Yeah." I shrugged. "But she's working on her boutique, and I can't really be mad about that when it's our hockey schedule that has me out of town for the rest of the week."

"Fair enough. Lord knows I remember what it was like trying to work things out with Aimee in the beginning. Absolute hell, man."

"Then how did you guys get past it?"

"Honestly? Sometimes I don't know," he admitted. "There were points when our schedules were so out of sync, we didn't see each other for weeks on end. And when we did make plans, one of us always seemed to have to reschedule or cancel. It wasn't ideal, but I loved her." He shrugged, as though those words made all the difference. "We kind of just roughed it out until we got used to making each other a priority."

"That's it? No tips as a soon-to-be married man?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Sorry, but it all kind of boils down to whether or not you guys are willing to put in the work." Walking towards the exit, he looked back at me. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Bright and early," I replied with a nod. "Say hi to Aimee for me."

"Will do, man."

Left with the room to myself, I used the open space to stretch, working my quads, shoulders, and hips before making my way back to the locker room.

Once showered, I threw my wet hair into a bun and dressed quickly, hitching my duffle bag over my shoulder as I made my way through the arena, only stopping when I noticed Wellsley stepping out of one of the physical therapy rooms.

"Hey man, I thought you left a while ago."

He shook his head, rolling his shoulder. "One of the hits I took in practice didn't land well, so I thought I'd get the kinks sorted out before tomorrow's road trip." His eyes flickered down to my bag, as well as the nicer clothes I wore and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Heading out to meet the lady?"

I shook my head. "She got swept up with work and had to cancel."

"Sucks man." And it did—especially having to explain it over and over. He clapped me on the shoulder. "But if you don't want to go home, you're more than welcome to join me and a few of the guys for drinks at Apollo's. They're probably already there."

Since Jo had quit, I hadn't given much thought to going back, but as I considered his offer, I realized there was no reason not to. Jo wasn't likely to cut out on her designer early just to see me, and if she did happen to call, I could always head home to meet her.

"Sure, why not?" I grinned, suddenly feeling better about the night ahead. "I'll meet you there."

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