41. Emmy
FORTY-ONE
Professional Stick Handlers
Easy E
Did you see that NBA player get suspended for life for betting on games?
Wonder if any of the guys in the NHL are doing that.
Liam
The only thing they bet on is when you’re going to stop talking.
Connor
Ouch. Goalie Daddy with the sick burn.
Liam
Don’t call me Daddy.
Grant
He’s not calling you Daddy. The internet is. That video the social media team uploaded of you biting your jersey went viral, and you’ve been dubbed GD.
Pretty Boy
Wait a second. I used to be Puck Daddy. What happened to that nickname?
Hudson
No one called you that besides yourself.
Pretty Boy
That’s not true! There was a whole message board about it!
Easy E
Sorry, Mavvy. Grumpy gills Liam has taken your spot as favorite Stars player.
Me
I’d vote for him.
Riley
Same.
Pretty Boy
Some friends you are.
“We’re playing in Detroit next week. You must be excited to be in front of a hometown crowd.” Maverick props up on his elbow and smiles at me. There’s a hickey on his neck, just below his ear, and his shirt is on inside out. “Who’s coming to see you? There’s going to be a whole Emmy Fan Club, isn’t there?”
“No.” I rub my thumb up his arm and lean forward so I can kiss his tattoos. The cherries might be my favorite, and I kiss those twice. “My mom never comes to my games, and it’s difficult for my dad to travel.”
“With the wheelchair?” he asks, and I nod.
“Yeah. There’s a lot of stress involved with getting places, and Detroit is too far of a drive for him to make. The seating in the arena isn’t very ADA friendly either, and don’t get me started on the extra security measures he has to go through.”
“Has he ever seen you play?”
“He was at all my high school games, then once or twice in college. He didn’t get to see me in the ECHL.” I shrug and gently nudge Maverick onto his back so I can rest my head on his chest. He smells like the banana bread we tried to make in the kitchen earlier before we gave up and ate a whole bag of chocolate chips. “I send him game film and he watches it, though. He has no problem telling me when I should’ve taken the open shot instead of recording an assist.”
“Half the time you pass, you should’ve taken the open shot,” he agrees, chuckling as he wraps his arms around my waist. He buries his face in my hair, and his heart beats under my cheek. “What if we were able to get him to the game?”
“How would we do that? Lansing is one hundred miles from Detroit. It’s not like we’re going to make a pitstop on the team bus.”
“I’ve been doing some research.” Maverick reaches for his phone and hands it to me. “Password is 3669.”
“Why are you telling me your password?”
“So I can keep holding you. You’re so warm.”
I punch in the digits, and there’s a website displayed on his screen. “What’s this?”
“You can rent wheelchair accessible vans. I thought we could drive to Lansing before morning skate, pick him up, bring him to the arena so he can watch the game, then take him home after. We don’t fly out until Friday morning, so there’s plenty of time.”
“Hang on.” I sit up. My eyes bounce from the phone to him then back to his phone. “What are you—Maverick. This is so thoughtful of you, but he can’t be alone during the game. I mean, he can. He’s cognitively sound, but if he needs to use the restroom or get some food, it’s better if someone is with him to offer some assistance. Navigating crowds can also be a nightmare.”
“I remember you mentioning that.” Maverick sits up and kisses my forehead. “I talked with Coach, and I have no problem not dressing so I can hang out with him. Or, if you’re comfortable with it, Hudson’s dad is going to be in Detroit for the game. Duke is a great guy, and he’s familiar with helping folks who use wheelchairs. Hudson’s mom used one before she passed, and I bet he’d be comfortable accompanying him.”
I take a deep breath and try not to cry. It feels like the wind just got knocked out of me, and my fingers curl around his navy sheets.
“You would sit out a game just so you could spend time with my dad?” I whisper. “Why would you ever do that?”
“It’s important to you. I know how much it would mean to you if he were there. It would make you happy, and if we’re being honest, I really want to meet the man who helped bring my favorite spitfire girl into the world.”
“We’re less than six weeks out from the playoffs, and we could lose without you in the lineup. Do you want to take that risk?”
“I love your confidence in me.” His grin is gentle, and he reaches for me. “We’re five games ahead of Orlando in our division, and we’re only trailing Boston by a half game in the East. Unless things go to shit, we’ve got the home advantage for the playoffs locked up. If I sit out, Grant could have some experience in the first line. It’s a win-win for everyone.”
I don’t know what to say.
My mind is a whirlwind, a mess of sounds and feelings and emotions I’ve tried so hard to fight and keep away, but a single word slips through and echoes loudly amongst all the noise.
Love.
Love, love, love.
I think I might love him a little bit.
A whole lot, actually, and I don’t know when that happened.
Somewhere between the Thai food he started ordering for me after practice when I’m craving something spicy and the questions he scribbles down on Post-it notes and slips under my door at the arena, I went and fell head over heels for the one person I swore I was immune to.
I don’t think I ever stood a chance with Maverick, though.
It was inevitable right from the start.
Oh, god.
This is terrible.
Horrific.
Possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
I just told the girls it was too soon to throw that word around, but it’s so painfully obvious that’s what this is.
It’s why being in his arms feels so right. It’s why I’m steady and settled when he’s next to me. It’s why his touch calms and grounds me.
I love him.
“Hey.” Maverick cradles my cheek. “What’s going on, Emmy girl? Did I do something wrong? It wasn’t too much, was it? Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”
“No. No.” I sniff and wipe my nose with the back of my hand. The last thing I want is for him to think he messed up when he’s so right. “It’s such a kind thing to do, and I’m having a difficult time processing it.”
“Oh.” His nose bumps mine, and I lift my chin. His eyes are bright and twinkling, like the pretty stars in the night sky outside his window. “That’s okay. You take as long as you need, Emmy girl. Can I do anything to help?”
Stop being so nice to me.
Love me back.
Stay with me forever because I’m terrified of what might happen if you go.
“Can I keep hugging you?” I ask.
“You can hug me all you want.” Maverick shuffles us around until I’m in his lap and my cheek is against his shoulder. His hand slips under my shirt and rubs soft, soothing circles on my back. “Is this the part where I say I’ll never let go?”
“Please don’t compare yourself to Leo. He was my childhood crush, and you’re not him.”
“But I’m your adult crush, right?” he teases, and his lips are heaven on my skin.
“You’re something,” I say, and a confusing, prickly sensation sits at the base of my spine. “Thank you, Maverick. This really is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me, and I’m so excited he’s going to see me play.”
“You deserve all the nice things, Emmy girl, and when you’re with me, I’m going to give them to you.”
I love him.
“What about when we get to Detroit? The guys will realize we’re missing, and I’m sure they’ll have questions.”
“Hudson will notice, but he’s too smart for his own good. And so what if they all realize it? I’m not going to hide that we’re going to get your dad. If you’re comfortable with it, I’m comfortable with it.”
There’s a lump in my throat, and I nod. “Okay.”
“Okay? Is that a yes that we can bring him to the game?”
“Yeah.” I bite my bottom lip, and a smile sneaks through. “It’s a hell yes.”
Maverick whoops and pulls us back onto the pillows. They’re like little clouds under my head, and a laugh bubbles out of me.
“I’ll talk to Hudson about Duke helping out, then I’ll book everything so we can get the ball rolling.”
“Do you have him on speed dial?”
“Basically. Hudson and I bonded right away when he was drafted. He’s close with his dad, which means I’ve become close with his dad. Duke’s been the father figure I never had. I like to pretend he likes me more than Hud, and it’s so fun to give him shit.”
“You’re a damn menace, Maverick Miller.” I sweep a lock of dark hair across his forehead. “I’m glad you have someone like that in your life.”
“Me too. I underestimated the pressure of being the number one draft pick and the attention that comes with being a professional athlete. It’s not just hockey—it’s learning to manage money and hiring people I trust and advocating for myself. Saying no without feeling guilty about it. I’d love to start a league mentorship program where veteran players can partner up with rookies who might need some guidance to help them navigate this new life. That’s what Duke did with me.”
“You have so many brilliant ideas.” I touch his temples and massage the warm skin above his eyebrow. He lets out a happy sigh and closes his eyes. “Can I ask you a personal question you don’t have to feel obligated to answer?”
“You can ask me whatever you want, Emmy. I’ll tell you anything.”
“Have either one of your parents reached out to you since you got drafted? I know hiding your past from the internet is probably easier than hiding yourself from people who might have been in your life before.”
“Ah.” Maverick’s fingers dance down my arm and hold my hip. “No, they haven’t. I waited for a call my rookie year, and nothing came. It’s motivated me to play harder, though. I want to be the best I can be at this sport, and knowing one of them might be watching me adds fuel to the fire.”
“That’s how it is with my mom. I told myself the only way it would be worth losing my relationship with her is if I was the best of the best. Now I’m in the NHL, and I know it was all worth it.”
“We’ve been through some shit, huh?”
“I guess we have. But maybe that’s why we work so well.”
“I love when you flirt with me, Emmy girl.”
I love you.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
“Thank you again for finding a way for my dad to be there,” I say, because once isn’t nearly enough. Not for something this kind and this thoughtful. “He’s going to be so excited to meet you.”
“Of course he is. I’m me,” Maverick jokes, and I press my fingers into his ribs.
His giggle is high-pitched and contagious, and as night stretches to early morning, the two of us fall asleep in each other’s arms, and I think this is what it means to be truly happy.