Delayed Penalty (Crossing the Line, #1)

After a win, the same energy swirled within the players. Something that wasn't funny or was too personal, too embarrassing, too important became hilarious as we boarded the bus to head back to Chicago.

The boys were rowdy, shooting off one-liners at each other, harassing the rookies, fucking with the coaches, and playing practical jokes, mostly fueled by Leo and me. While most were preparing for Christmas and living normal lives, we were the Chicago Blackhawks.

One would think it was just another win, but they didn't understand because to a hockey player, it wasn't just a win. It couldn't be understood by anyone other than a hockey player who'd struggled between that distance and desire or weakness and power, and who'd spent his life pushing a puck around.

"Can you believe this snow?" Leo asked sometime after we hit I-90 West heading toward Chicago. We usually flew home when the drive was longer than a few hours, but with the sketchy weather, we were forced to drive when the plane froze. I couldn't understand the logic behind driving if the plane was frozen. That just seemed dumb to me.

"No, I can't," I mumbled miserably, glancing out the bus window. Leo sat beside me looking like a kid in a candy store as he watched cars sliding around trying to gain control.

It was really coming down. I knew any chance at getting home to Pittsburgh in this snow was slim. I really wanted to be home with my family for the holidays, in a place where I felt comfortable, rather than in a city I barely knew. The thrill of the victory was high, but there was a low present from not being able to spend Christmas with my family.

Caitlin, my younger sister, hounded me endlessly about being home this Christmas for God knows what reason, probably so she'd have someone to fall victim to her frequent abuse. My younger sister was a brat, but I still loved her.

If you haven't already noticed, I'm a hockey player. And yes, in case you're wondering, I have all my teeth. Sure, two are fake, but I have them.

Last season, I was the number one draft pick for the Chicago Blackhawks. I always liked Chicago, so I was more than thrilled to be signed to a team I grew up watching. I was from Pittsburgh, though, so naturally I was pulling for the Penguins to pick me up, but I fit in well here in Chicago and couldn't ask for a better group of guys to play with. We had the unity and had formed a strong bond together the last two seasons, and that was what made winning hockey teams.

I started playing hockey when I got my first pair of skates at two years old. Sam, my dad, was a die-hard hockey fan. Seriously, though, someone should have him committed with how insane he could get about the game, but all that insanity and willingness to help me was what got me into the NHL at nineteen.

So while I had my skates and stick at the age of two, they finally allowed me to have the puck when I turned three. The reason for the no puck rule stemmed from something about me drilling the puck through the window a few times. I didn't remember this, but my dad had told the story to just about anyone who would listen to him for more than five minutes.

Once I had the puck and stick together, it was love. Ever since then, nothing compared to the way I felt on the ice. I grew up playing in the PAHL, Pittsburgh Amateur Hockey League, through the various midget levels until I was fourteen and was eligible to play for the Ontario Hockey League Major Juniors, which was overseen by the Canadian Hockey League—their governing body for professional hockey.

You had to be fifteen to play, but since my birthday fell in February, and thanks to my very persuasive father, I was drafted. I played in Erie, Pennsylvania, for the Erie Otters. The OHL consisted of twenty teams that were broken down into two conferences, Western and Eastern, and then by four divisions with five teams in each division of East, West, Midwest, and Central.

The Erie Otters were in the Western Conference, Midwest division.

I liked playing up there. It was only a two-hour drive for us, but I ended up having to be enrolled in school there because the traveling to the games alone involved too much, and driving the extra two hours home wasn't an option. My family rented a house up there, and that was where we lived. They were willing to do anything to allow me to play, even it meant uprooting our family and their jobs.

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