Jet’s warm eyes blink up at me. “I guess I must be your hat trick, huh?” “No.” Jet pouts. “You’re so much more than that. You’re a goal in the last minute. A five-on-three powerplay. You’re the crowd screaming for the win.” “I don’t know what that means, but good to know.” I laugh. “Jet, you’re everything. You’re my Stanley Cup.”
