34. Liam
THIRTY-FOUR
LIAM
Puck Kings
G-Money
What’s the dress code tonight?
Hudson
Business causal. What you would wear to the arena on game day.
G-Money
So I can’t wear the new pair of Crocs I got?
Riley
Crocs aren’t cool, Grant. You’re wasting your money on those things.
G-Money
I think they’re cool. So does Easy E.
Hudson
Not sure I’d consider it a good thing to have Ethan’s vote.
Maverick
Coach told me to remind you all we have a game tomorrow. There will be press there tonight, so be on your best behavior.
And you can’t leave before he makes his speech.
That was for Goalie Daddy.
Me
And if we sneak out?
Maverick
I’ve got my eye on you.
Me
That wasn’t a no.
Piper
Are you going to the season ticket holder event tonight?
Me
Unfortunately.
I swear we didn’t have this many events last season. This is what happens when you give fans a survey and they want the players to be more ‘accessible.’
Piper
Come on! You don’t think it’s going to be fun?
Me
It’s socializing with people who like to tell me how I should do my job.
Piper
I’ll make sure to come up and bother my dear husband.
Me
Can’t wait to see you try, wife.
Piper
Maybe I’ll tell you how you should be doing your job better.
Me
Going through a tunnel. Losing service.
Piper
You’re such a shit.
I’ll complain for hours about having to socialize with people as a side part of my job, but I won’t complain about signing autographs for kids.
I love listening to their favorite stories and how they fell in love with hockey. I like being told I’m their favorite goalie in the league and learning what positions they prefer to play.
The Blackhawks sucked during my childhood. They were the epitome of mediocrity, but that didn’t stop me from being a fan. I was obsessed. I listened to the games on the radio with my dad and dissected every single play, explaining what I would do if I were on the ice.
I didn’t talk a lot as a kid, but I came alive when I talked about hockey.
When I was eight, I met some of my idols at an event like this one. My parents spent all year saving up, forgoing Christmas presents to put money toward gala tickets, and Alana was pissed she didn’t get the Barbie Dreamhouse she wanted.
I still have the signed photos from Kyle Calder and Jocelyn Thibault tucked in a closet at my parents’ house for safekeeping. They spent ten minutes with me, letting me chat their ear off about how I wanted to make it to the NHL too.
Their interaction with me taught me how professional athletes should interact with kids. You don’t rush them. You don’t look bored. You let them lead the conversation, and when they ask for a photo, you smile like you’re the happiest fucker in the world.
Because who knows what those kids might amount to. Could be the next Gretzky. Could be the next Maverick Miller. Could be me , and that’s a humbling thought.
“Thank you, Mr. Sullivan,” a small boy says when I hand him back his photograph. “I hope you win the Vezina Trophy.”
“I couldn’t do it without my teammates.” I stick out my hand out my hand and smile when he bumps his knuckles with mine. “Have fun tonight.”
He runs away, clutching the photo to his chest, and it still blows my mind people care about me as a player.
“Can I get a signed photo?” a voice says from behind me, and when I look over my shoulder, Piper is smiling at me. “Please?”
“Since you asked so nicely.” I rub my lips together to keep from grinning. “Do you have one with you?”
“I do. I carry it around in my pocket since I’m obsessed with you and everything.”
“Normal behavior.” I pat the stool next to me. “Come on over. I’ll personalize it for you too.”
“Player of the year right here.” She jumps on the barstool. “You look like you’re having fun.”
“It’s for the kids. The next generation of players and people who spend their allowance to come see me play. I’d rather talk to them than the owners with a minority stake in the club.”
“Eat the rich, am I right?” Piper puts a photograph on the bar, and I burst out laughing. “Look familiar?”
“Where did you get this?” It’s an image of me in college, tall and lanky. Before I learned eating protein will help me gain muscle. I look like a totally different person in the goal, and I shake my head at my poor knee positioning. “It’s a relic.”
“I had to do some deep internet sleuthing. The University of Wisconsin has some lovely academic programs, but they don’t keep many photos of past hockey teams.”
“Because they aren’t worth keeping.”
“I’d say photos from winning the Frozen Four are worth keeping. Especially when they feature the great Liam Sullivan.” Her fingers drum over the black-and-white image. “A signature, please.”
“Anything for a fan.” I uncap the Sharpie and look at her. “Any preference on how it’s addressed?”
“Nope. Go wild, Sully.”
I think for a second and start writing, sliding it her way when I’m finished.
“There you go. Could be worth something one day.”
“Could be worth something now.” Piper looks at the message and laughs. “This is perfect.”
To Pipsqueak:
I tolerate you.
As a friend.
From Liam Sullivan
“Glad you like it. Are you having fun?”
“Yeah.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and surveys the room. “Good turnout. Five different people have come up to me and told me how much they appreciate the fresh energy I bring to the broadcast team, so that was an ego boost. The unbelievable part? Three of them were men.”
“Look at you. You might be the key to world peace.”
“I just might be.” She nudges my side with her elbow and stands. “I need to go mingle. There’s someone here from the Washington Post, and I want to introduce myself.”
“Go be a social butterfly, Sunshine. I’m going to keep hiding in a corner.”
“Don’t have too much fun.” Piper touches my shoulder. Her smile turns soft, and it’s the kind of beam I can feel everywhere on my body. “You look great, by the way. You should wear a tux more often.”
“Noted.” I give her elbow a quick squeeze. “But only for you.”
With a parting wave, she heads across the room, and I grab a bottle of water from the bucket of ice to my right so I don’t gawk at her ass as she walks away.
“How’s Piper?” Maverick asks, sliding up to me.
“What? How would I know how Piper is?”
“Uh.” He blinks at me. “Because you were just talking to her?”
“Oh.” I pull on my collar and shrug. “She’s fine. Off to do an interview or something.”
“She’s good at her job, isn’t she?” He leans against the bar and takes a sip of his water. “Glad you’re out with us tonight. I know this isn’t usually your thing.”
“Didn’t really have a choice. Coach told me he was going to bench me if I didn’t show.”
“He’s moved to ultimatums to get you to attend events? Genius. Should’ve done it years ago. Think of all the fun you’ve missed out on.”
“We have very different definitions of the word fun.”
“Come on. There are worse places you could be right now.”
“And there are far better places I could be.”
“Hey.” Maverick squints and lifts his chin. “Isn’t that Charlie? The guy who used to do the announcing for our games? Been wondering what happened to him.”
I follow his gaze and narrow my eyes when I recognize Charlie Woolworth, Piper’s old boss and douche extraordinaire, making a beeline for us.
Before I can try and escape, he takes the spot on my other side, a cocky grin on his smug, punchable face.
“Gentlemen.” Charlie sticks out his hand and Maverick gives me a confused look before shaking it. I ignore the invitation and take a long sip of my water. “Are we having a good evening?”
“Can’t really complain.” Maverick shrugs. “Where’ve you been, man? I haven’t seen you around the arena in ages. Did something happen?”
“What didn’t happen is the real question.” Charlie scoffs and pulls out a twenty from his wallet. He drops the crisp bill in the tip jar and rolls his eyes. “I lost the job I’ve had for fucking decades because of a misunderstanding. It’s bullshit, if you ask me.”
My fingers wrap around the water bottle. The plastic crunches under my tight grip, and I pretend it’s his neck. Anger boils in my blood, and I wonder what he’d look like with my fist in his face. I wonder what he’d look like with a black eye and a bruised cheek.
“A misunderstanding? There’s a rumor going around you found a new gig somewhere else,” Maverick says.
“Piper Mitchell happened. That bitch complained about me to HR. She?—”
I slam my fist down on the bar so hard, all the drinks rattle. Everyone in the nearby vicinity turns to look at me, but I don’t give a shit.
I’m too busy staring Charlie down.
Contemplating his murder and how I’d make it look like an accident.
“I’d be very careful what you say next,” I tell him slowly, so there’s no room for the dumbass to mishear me. “That’s my wife you’re talking about.”
Maverick drops his water bottle and gasps.
“Your wife ?” Charlie repeats, venom behind the word. “Maybe you should put her on a leash, Sullivan, so she knows her place. Fucking over someone who has years of experience in this industry because she can’t take a joke shows me she isn’t going to last a goddamn season in the league. They’re going to eat her alive. Maybe they’ll eat her out, too, and I can watch.”
Rage takes over my vision.
I don’t see him anymore but Piper instead.
I’m thrown back to that night in Texas when I spotted her crying in the hallway. Shoulders shaking, head in her hands. The way she looked so small and so fucking defeated .
She doesn’t know I saw her.
She doesn’t know I tracked down her other coworker—the nice one—and asked him what happened.
She doesn’t know I went with him to HR, sitting by his side while he recanted each and every word this piece of shit said about her.
I’ve never been so mad in my life.
And seeing him in front of me now? Making it seem like what happened was her fault?
I could burn the entire fucking world down.
I act before I can think, setting down my water and grabbing Charlie by the collar. He’s easy to lift, and I drag him to a hallway behind the bar before anyone can notice we’re gone.
“How about you say that again?” I step close to him so our chests are touching. So I can see the fear in his eyes. I stand to my full height, towering over him and making sure he knows exactly who he’s fucking with. “And this time, look me in the eye when you do.”
Charlie swallows. “I-I?—”
“Say it.” My hand moves to his throat. I’ve never been in a fight off the ice, but this would be too fucking easy. “Nice and loud, so I can hear you.”
“Whoa. Hey. Liam. Easy, buddy,” Maverick says from behind me. “Let’s take a second here.”
“This piece of shit doesn’t deserve a second.” I look over my shoulder and glare at my captain. “Do you know what he said about Piper? He told his buddy they could bend her over his desk and tag team her. That if she’d just pop open her shirt, he’d give her more airtime. Claimed he was untouchable because of how much power he had. How much fucking power do you have now, dickbag?”
My fingers press harder into Charlie’s throat. I could kill him if I wanted to. It wouldn’t take much, and I’m so tempted to hurt him the way he hurt her.
“Liam.” Maverick tugs on my shoulder. “Put him down. He’s not worth it.”
She’s worth it, though .
I know she wouldn’t want me to fight this asshole.
I know she’d want me to walk away.
I know she’d want me to leave him alone and be the bigger person.
Fuck .
I really care what she thinks of me.
“Fucker.” I let go of Charlie and take a step back. “If you ever talk to her again, I will end you. And I’ll smile while I do it.”
Charlie looks between us. There’s not a second of hesitation before he’s taking off down the hallway. He’s almost around the corner before Maverick stretches out his hand and gives me a look.
“One second, Charlie,” my captain says, jogging toward him. When he gets close, he pulls his fist back. Laughs then decks the guy so hard in the face, he stumbles backward. Blood spurts from his nose, and Charlie groans. “That’s for saying shit about my friend. Piper is one of us. Do it again, and I won’t be so nice.”
“Thought he wasn’t worth it,” I grumble as the douchebag runs away clutching his nose. “Look at you getting all the fucking glory.”
“Wasn’t worth if for you to punch him. You’re too emotionally invested and would’ve killed him. To me, he’s just a piece of shit. And I really need my goalie tomorrow.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did. You had my back when we went in on Emmy’s ex during the game we played against him. I have your back now.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Don’t thank me yet. What the fuck was that wife comment about?”
I rub the back of my neck. Tension rolls through me, and I don’t know what to say. We’ve kept our drunken wedding a secret since Vegas. You’d have no idea we were married based on how we interacted with each other at the arena.
Unless you asked me where my shitty gift shop ring is.
I keep it in my wallet tucked behind a family photo when I’m not playing.
When I am playing, I loop it through my laces and hide it safely in my skate.
Feels like Piper’s been my lucky charm this season, and I want to carry her around with me.
“Vegas. We were drunk. She’s using it for my insurance to help with her chronic pain,” I explain loosely, and Maverick hums like this isn’t the craziest thing he’s ever heard.
“Marriage of convenience? Fucking love that trope.”
“What the fuck is a trope?”
“You really need to get to book club one of these days so you can learn.” He levels me with a serious look. “You have feelings for her, don’t you?”
I scoff and shake my head. “We’re friends.”
“Friends. Yeah. That’s why you were ready to crush a guy’s skull for talking shit about her.”
“I was ready to crush a guy’s skull because he treats women like they’re the scum of the earth. It’s about time someone treats him like that.”
“Right. Sure. I don’t believe you.” Maverick grins and pats my shoulder. “But I’ll keep your secret safe, man.”