37. Emmy
THIRTY-SEVEN
Grady:
Maverick didn’t show Cole any mercy, did he?
When were you going to tell me you two are dating?
Me
We are not dating.
Grady:
You’re doing some extracurricular activities, that’s for sure.
And they’re probably horizontal.
Me
I’m never answering your texts again.
Grady:
Classic Emmy deflection!
Must mean it’s true.
The visitors’locker room is chaos after the game. Grant sneaks me in, and the boys are acting like we won the Cup.
Someone filled Coach in on why we played so aggressively, and even though he’s not acknowledging his star player and three other guys getting tossed, there’s pride in his eyes when he drags Maverick to a small alcove to debrief.
“We have a lady in our midst,” Ethan yells. “No one drop your drawers, and keep everything covered.”
“That was worth playing shorthanded,” Riley says. He wipes his forehead with his jersey and grins. “My legs are on fire, but I liked seeing those fuckers get decimated.”
“How are you doing?” Hudson asks, patting the spot next to him on the bench. “Proud of you for scoring that goal.”
“I’m good.” I smile and stretch out my legs. My skates are heavy on my feet, but I can’t be bothered to take them off. “I have all this adrenaline, and I feel like I could play another three periods.”
“Don’t tell Coach that. He’d find a way to make it happen.” He laughs and nudges my shoulder. “Hey. I’m sorry you had to deal with someone so shitty from your past. I can’t pretend to know what that’s like, but you’re our friend now. If someone isn’t treating you right, you let one of us know. We’ll take care of it.”
“By starting a brawl?” I take his hand in mine and squeeze. “Thanks, Hudson. You’re the sweetest guy.”
“Mav was smart to make sure the fight went down like that. A regular tussle wouldn’t have worked, and I’m impressed he lasted so long without decking that douche in the face.”
I bite back a smile. “I’m surprised too.”
I know why he made Hudson kick things off: the third-man in rule.
The first player who joins a fight already in progress automatically gets ejected. Maverick had nothing to lose.
A single punch wouldn’t have worked. It was obvious he wanted to go in for the kill.
And, gosh, he did.
I’ve never seen so much blood. I’ve never been so turned on, and I’ve been questioning my sexual preferences since he got ejected.
Watching Maverick punch the ever-loving shit out of Cole was hot as hell, but the icing on the cake was when he was escorted off the ice. He looked back at me, bloodied and bruised, and smiled.
Fucking smiled, and mouthed, I’d do it again.
I know he would.
“Listen up,” Coach says, and the locker room quiets down. “Good win. Obviously tensions were high, but we got the job done. That shows me not only that we can play under pressure, but we can also play when our number one guy isn’t on the ice. This is a team sport, and you all showed heart tonight. We’ve got a game against San Antonio the day after tomorrow, then we get to head home. We’ll celebrate the victory, but let’s not lose focus.”
“Thanks for stepping up tonight,” Maverick adds. He scans the room, taking his time to look each of our teammates in the eyes. “I know my behavior doesn’t reflect the values of our team, and I’m sorry I put you all in a position to play a couple players down.”
“Bullshit,” Grant calls out, and everyone laughs. “Don’t give us the media answer, Mavvy! Tell us how you really feel!”
Maverick glances at Coach, who sighs and gestures for him to keep talking.
“Fuck Cole Meyers,” he practically growls. “Fuck him straight to hell. This wasn’t just about heart. This was about trust and having each other’s backs, which we do. Those assholes learned that if you fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us. We weren’t playing like this back in late October, and to see that growth tells me how great this team is.”
He’s made a lot of speeches, but I’ve never seen him embody the role of captain more than he is right now. There’s dried blood on his face, and his cheek is swollen beyond belief, but I know every single person in this room would repeat the last two hours and thirty minutes over again.
“I don’t want any posts on social media,” Coach warns us. “Nothing about the fights or taunting the Wildebeests players. My phone is already blowing up, and I’m sure the commissioner will be calling soon to hand out punishments.” His eyes flick over to Maverick. “I’ll be shocked if you’re not suspended.”
“Like I give a shit.” Maverick shrugs and pulls off his jersey, chucking it toward his locker. “I’ll match the fine with a donation to charity.”
I wonder if he donates to foster care housing in DC. After what he told me on New Year’s Eve about his childhood, I’ve been thinking nonstop about the ways he gets involved in the community.
It makes me want to get involved too, and the next time we’re alone, I want to ask him if I can join him in his volunteer work.
“Hit the showers. We’re flying to San Antonio tonight, and we’ll do a late-morning skate tomorrow so you all can catch a breather,” Coach says, and he looks at me. “There’s a small shower room down the hall, Emmy. The arena staff said they unlocked it for you to use.”
“Thanks.” I smile. “It’ll be nice to be clean on the plane for once.”
“I know it doesn’t change anything at the moment, but I’m working with our arena manager to get something set up for you at home. Something that’s not a supply closet.”
“I appreciate it, Coach.”
The guys start to head for the showers, and Hudson squeezes my knee.
“You good?” he asks, and I nod.
“Yeah.” I glance across the room and find Maverick staring at me. “I’m good.”
“Thought so.” Hudson unlaces his skates and pops to his feet. “I’ll see you on the bus, Em.”
I wave at him and pull off my jersey, tossing it in the pile of sweaty clothes with my shoulder pads. I grab an ice pack from the first aid kit and trudge toward Maverick, watching him drop to one of the benches in the corner and hold out his hand.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hi.” He looks around, and when he doesn’t see any of our teammates or coaching staff, he puts his hands on my waist. “You played great out there tonight.”
“Thank you.” I press the ice pack to his right eye, and he hisses. “You’re going to be bruised for days.”
“Worth it.” He tilts his head back and looks up at me. “I know actions speak louder than words, but I promise I will never, ever, treat you like your ex did. I want you to feel safe with me and?—”
I rest my hand in his hair and rub his scalp, cutting him off. “I feel a lot of things when I’m with you, Maverick, and safe is always one of them,” I whisper, and his mouth twists into a smile.
Maverick squeezes my hips. “What else do you feel?”
“Is that your question of the day?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He nods and grips the waistband of my pants with strong fingers. “It is. I really want to know.”
“I feel powerful. Beautiful.” My fingers move to his cheek, and he relaxes under my touch. “Like I can do anything I set my mind to.”
“You’re all those things and more. You really can do anything, Emmy.”
“How do I make you feel?” I whisper, and when he grins, I see dried blood on his teeth. The remnants of the fight, and how he stood up for me, left behind. “Will you tell me?”
“You make me feel important.” Maverick’s thumb brushes over my stomach and I shiver at his touch. “I know I still have skates on my feet and just beat some guy to a pulp, but you make me feel like I’m more than a hockey player. And it’s never been like that before. You make me feel like I have a purpose.”
“You’re so much more than a hockey player. Remember how I said you have a kind heart? Tonight is the perfect example of that.”
He snorts. “I basically committed assault, but it’s okay because I’m paid twelve million a year to score a couple goals.”
“That’s not what I mean. You’re a man who cares deeply about people, and to know you feel that way about me…” I shake my head. “Thank you.”
“I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone else, Emmy,” he murmurs, and my heart explodes in my chest. “And I’d get decked in the face all over again if it meant seeing you smile.”
There’s something else I want to say, but I can’t find the words. It hangs on the tip of my tongue and sits there until the guys start to file back into the locker room, towels around their waists and their hair wet.
It echoes in my head when I hand Maverick the ice pack and take a step back, putting distance between us so no one starts to ask questions. I think after tonight, though, they wouldn’t care.
“I’ll let you get cleaned up,” I say. “I’ll see you on the bus.”
“Hey.” He reaches out and wraps his fingers around my wrist. He squeezes once and looks up at me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I nod, and that feeling is back, more persistent than ever. “I’ve never been better.”