My Hockey Captain Proposed After Cheating

The puck hit the back of the net with eleven seconds left on the clock.

For one second, the Westbridge University ice arena went silent. Then four thousand people lost their minds.

"He did it!" I screamed, phone raised high, my arm shaking so hard the video probably looked like an earthquake. "Tyler! You did it!"

Number 19 skated toward the glass, ripped off his helmet, and pointed straight at me.

Tyler Hayes. My boyfriend of four years. Captain of the Westbridge Wolves. The guy I'd driven to physical therapy at six in the morning for an entire semester after he tore his ACL sophomore year.

And now he was a champion.

"Avery, you're crying," Sophie said, laughing as she tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. Sophie Marsh had been my best friend since freshman orientation, and she never let me get away with anything. "Fix your face. He's going to look at you again."

"I'm not crying."

"You're literally leaking." She dabbed under my eye with her thumb. "Be honest. Have you already picked out wedding invitations?"

"Cream card stock," I said. "Gold lettering."

She snorted. "You're insane."

"He said it, Soph. Freshman year. 'When I win the championship, I'm proposing at center ice.'" I grinned at her. "And I helped him pick the ring. Princess cut. I know it's sitting in his locker right now."

"So the surprise is that there's no surprise."

"The surprise is that it's finally happening."

The team piled onto the ice. Gloves flew. Somebody dumped a water bottle on Coach Brennan's head. I filmed every second of it, because I'd filmed every game for four years. I cut his highlight reels. I knew his stats better than he did.

Then the players headed down the tunnel to the locker room, and the crowd started thinning.

Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen.

"Where is he?" I checked my phone. Nothing. "He usually texts me right after."

"Post-game interview, probably." Sophie shrugged. "He's a big deal tonight."

"Okay. I'll just call him—"

A woman's laugh crackled through the arena speakers.

Light. Breathy. Way too close to the mic.

A few people in the stands turned their heads. Somebody near us muttered, "Sound check?"

Then a voice floated out over the whole building, sweet as syrup.

"Tyler, when I kissed you out there on the ice... did you think about Avery at all?"

My thumb froze over the call button.

I knew that voice.

Madison Pryor. The sophomore I'd tutored through statistics. The girl I'd lent my car to. The girl who cried in my dorm room when her ex dumped her, and I sat with her until two in the morning.

Sophie grabbed my wrist. "Avery—"

Tyler laughed. That easy, lazy laugh I used to love.

"Don't ruin the mood by mentioning her."

The arena went dead quiet. Four thousand people, and I could hear the hum of the ice machines.

"So when are you actually breaking up with her?" Madison asked.

"After I sign a pro contract." His voice was clear. Every word. "Her dad knows half the NHL scouts on the East Coast. If I dump her now, I just wasted four years for nothing."

Madison giggled. "She still thinks you're going to propose!"

"Proposing isn't marrying." A rustle, like he was pulling her closer. "I just need to keep her happy for a little while longer."

My blood turned to ice water.

I'd skipped my summer internship at the Globe because he had a tryout camp. I'd iced his knee. I'd memorized his protein schedule. I'd bought his gear when his scholarship didn't cover it.

And I was a ticket. A free ride to the pros.

"That son of a bitch." Sophie was already moving, shoving past a guy in a Wolves jersey. "I'm going down there. I'm going to rip that ring out of his locker and shove it—"

I caught her arm and yanked her back.

"Don't."

"Don't?" She stared at me. "Avery, he just said that in front of the entire school!"

Around us, the stands woke up.

"What a piece of shit!"

"Is that his girlfriend? Oh my God, she's right there."

"Somebody cut the mic!"

A guy behind me booed. A girl two rows down was openly filming my face.

Finally, the speakers gave a sharp pop and went silent.

I didn't move. I didn't cry. I just stood there and felt something inside me go very, very still.

My phone buzzed. Then again. Then it wouldn't stop.

The team group chat. I'd been in it since freshman year, the unofficial team mom. I opened it.

**Jake:** Holy shit, Tyler is DONE

**Marcus:** did Avery hear that??

**Jake:** the whole state of Massachusetts heard that

**Danny:** this asshole literally asked us an hour ago how he should kneel for the proposal

**Marcus:** I feel sick bro

**Jake:** someone check on her

Sophie leaned over my shoulder. "Tell them he's a dead man."

I typed slowly. My fingers were steady. That surprised me more than anything.

**Avery:** Everyone, please pretend you heard nothing.

The chat went quiet.

Sophie read it twice. Then she looked at me like I'd grown a second head.

"What are you doing?"

"Exactly what I typed."

"Avery." Her voice dropped. "Please tell me you're not still going to marry him."

I laughed. Actually laughed, right there in the middle of the stands, with strangers pointing their phones at me.

"Of course not."

"Then why—"

"He wants to propose, right?" I tucked my phone against my chest. "So let him propose."

Sophie's mouth opened. Closed. Then slowly curved up at one corner.

"Oh," she said. "Oh, you're scary."

My phone buzzed again. A new message. Not the group chat.

**Tyler:** Baby, wear my favorite white dress tomorrow night. I've got a surprise for you. ❤️

I stared at that little red heart for a long time.

Four years. Every early morning, every ice pack, every highlight reel. All of it for a guy who thought I was too stupid to see him coming.

I typed back two words.

**Avery:** Can't wait.

Then I handed the phone to Sophie.

"Save the audio from tonight," I said. "Every second. Find anyone who recorded it from the stands. I want all of it."

She took the phone like it was a loaded gun. "What are you going to do with it?"

I looked down at the empty rink, at the bright circle painted at center ice where he'd planned to kneel.

"Tomorrow he gets his proposal," I said. "And I'm going to make sure he never forgets it."