Epilogue
ONE YEAR LATER
Emmy
The Civic Centeris exactly the same as the last time I saw it.
The carpet in the players’ hallway is the same.
I can smell the same popcorn and roasted almonds that used to make my mouth water during games.
The security team is the same, and even the music blaring from the speakers is on a loop I know by heart.
I guess the only thing that’s changed around here is me.
There’s familiarity to it, and even though it is brief, it’s good to be home.
“There she is.” I look over my shoulder and see Hudson charging toward me in his pads and jersey. I laugh when he scoops me in his arms and spins me around. “I’ve missed you, my sweet Emmy.”
“I saw you last week,” I say. “You slept in our guest room. I brought you an extra blanket because the apartment was too damn cold. You were suffering from a food coma, remember?”
He sighs into my hair, and I don’t know if it’s because of me, or the memory of the food he inhaled that night.
The food, probably.
“Like I could forget. Piper’s brownies were delicious. They even got Liam to smile, and that asshole hasn’t laughed since 1997.” Hudson sets me down carefully and squeezes my shoulder. “I mean I’ve missed you around here. Are you sure you don’t want to come back and play for the Stars again?”
“It’s not you, it’s me, Hud. I could never turn down the chance to be the franchise player for the NHL’s newest expansion team, even if they are called the Baltimore Sea Crabs.” I shudder, not used to a mascot that has claws. “I’m still waiting for them to come into the locker room, take my jersey away and say, Surprise! You fell for our silly little joke.”
“If they did, someone else would come knocking. There’s a line, in fact, and we’re number one. Your boyfriend is a determined man, and he wasn’t happy when we lost the bidding war for you.”
“He’s a big boy. I see him enough at home, and some space to live our separate lives is nice. It makes his jokes funnier when I don’t hear them three times a day.” I look around, surprised by how quiet the tunnel is. On game day, it’s normally buzzing with people, but it’s eerily silent right now. “Where is he, by the way?”
“No idea,” Hudson says. “Last I saw, he was using the shower head in the locker room as a karaoke microphone.”
“God.” I can’t help but smile at the image of Maverick with shampoo in his hair, crooning some dreadful song and annoying the hell out of his teammates. “I love that man.”
I’m as head over heels for him as I was when I told him I loved him for the very first time. We’ve had our ups and downs like any couple, and now ours also involve playing for different professional sports teams.
After the trade went through with Toronto, I finished out the season with the Stingrays. I even got to face off against Maverick and the Stars in the first round of the playoffs, but we got swept, 4-0.
He likes to hold it over my head.
Last offseason, my agent got a call about the expansion team that had just been approved for Baltimore. They were interested in building their roster with lottery picks and more seasoned veterans from around the league. When they offered me a four-year, twenty-million-dollar contract, there was no way in hell I was saying no.
The money is nice—it would be ignorant of me to disregard how lucky I am financially—but signing with the Sea Crabs also meant coming home to the place Maverick and I created together. An apartment big enough for all our friends, just outside DC. It’s a forty-five minute drive to the arena, and only twenty minutes from the Civic Center.
There are big windows with lots of sunlight for my plants. A bedroom for when my dad comes and visits and a room we painted bright pink that’s reserved for June.
Maverick built a bookshelf for all my books, and every night we’re under the same roof, he lies next to me and reads over my shoulder, like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.
He’s the best thing to ever happen to me, and I’ve never been so happy in my entire life.
“I love that man too.” Hudson kisses the top of my head, and I smile. “I should head to the locker room. It was good to see you, Emmy.”
“Come by this week. I’m learning to make cheesecake, and I need a taste tester.”
He groans. “Don’t tell Mavvy, but you’re my favorite.”
“I’m definitely going to tell him. He really needs to bring his ego down another notch or two.” I lean in for one more quick hug “See you on the ice?”
“You’ll see me.” He gives me a mischievous smile. “Real soon.”
“Okay, weirdo.” I laugh and wave, turning for the visitors’ locker room.
I can’t make it ten feet before Piper comes charging toward me, waving her hands above her head and looking like a bird.
“There you are,” she says, and she tugs on my sleeve. “I need you on the ice.”
“You know I’m not with the Stars anymore, right?”
“Of course I know that. The media wants a photo of the two Mid-Atlantic teams doing a ceremonial puck drop before they open the doors to the fans,” she explains, hustling me toward the rink I know so well. “It’s sold out tonight.”
“I’m not even dressed. I’m in street clothes.”
“That’s okay. It’s just a quick photo op, then you can get back to it.”
“Fine,” I sigh. “But only because I love you.”
When we get to the ice, I spot Maven sitting on a piece of rolled out carpet, her camera in her hands. Maverick stands next to her, his hair slicked back and the ink of his tattoos visible under his short-sleeved shirt. He’s not in his jersey yet, and he looks up when he hears me approaching.
“Hey, Emmy girl.” He grins and holds out his hand.
“Hi.” My eyes bounce to his chest where his newest tattoo is hiding. He got it done two weeks ago, Emmy’s pretty boy spanning across his heart in my handwriting. “What are you doing here?”
“Promotional photo. They thought it would be good press for us to pose for a face off photo, and clearly they wanted the most attractive people to participate.”
“I don’t see Grant anywhere,” I tease, and he kisses my forehead. “And I’d kick your ass in a face-off.”
“You’re so goddamn cute when you don’t know what you’re talking about, Red.” His thumb strokes the waistband of my slacks, and I shiver. “You having a good day, baby?”
“Better now. I heard you were singing karaoke in the locker room.”
“I was. I’m in a good mood. It’s a beautiful day. I get to play an exhibition game against my favorite girl in the world and spend the rest of the time on the bench admiring her ass. What can beat that?”
“Not a lot of things.” I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head on his chest. “I guess we should get this photoshoot started.”
“Any time you’re ready would be great,” Maven calls out, and I laugh.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Mae.” I pull away from Maverick and grab two sticks, tossing one to him. “How do you want us?”
“If you’ll stand over there, Emmy, and face the scoreboard, that would be great. And Mavvy, over here, please. We’ll do a back-to-back photo first.”
She puts us in the positions and clicks her camera. Maverick pinches my ass and I laugh, batting his hand away.
“Thanks for that cute PDA. That’s perfect. If you’ll face each other, I’m going to add the puck.”
I turn around and find Maverick on his knee. “Why are you tying your skate? Don’t tell me you ruined a good photo.”
“I’m not tying my skate.”
“What are you doing on the ground?”
“Because I have to ask my question of the day, and it’s easier from down here.”
I frown at him. “Are you having a stroke?”
“No.” He grins, and both dimples on his cheeks pop. “Do you remember when we first started playing this game?”
“I only agreed because it got you to leave me alone, but somehow, I haven’t been alone a single day since.”
“Funny how that worked. It’s almost like I was playing the long game. Come here, Emerson,” he says, and my skin prickles. He never uses my full name, not anymore. I close the distance between us, and he takes my hand in his. “I asked you to play because I thought it would be a way to get to know you better. To push past the walls you had up and force you into liking me.”
“I think Stockholm Syndrome is finally setting in.”
“You’re such a smartass,” he mumbles under his breath, but his grin stays locked in place. “I thought we’d ask each other the most random shit and get bored of it after a few weeks, but I kept asking and you kept answering. Those questions where we showed parts of ourselves to each other, and, over time, we fell in love.”
“Yeah.” I match his smile, and he rubs his thumb over my knuckles. “We did.”
“There came a point when the purpose of the game changed for me. I started asking more subtle questions. Things you haven’t picked up on, which is mind-blowing, because you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. I’ve been waiting very, very patiently for today.”
“Today?” I wrinkle my nose. “Today specifically?”
“Yup. Five hundred questions, remember? Today is lucky number five hundred.”
“You’ve been keeping track?”
“What do you think those sticky notes with all those tick marks on the fridge are for?”
“I don’t know,” I say, and it feels like something important is happening. “An orgasm count?”
“I’ve given you a shit ton more than five hundred orgasms.”
“Have you?” I tap my cheek. “I’m not sure about that.”
He laughs. “I love you, Emmy. I love the fire in your heart. I love your stubbornness. I love that you don’t let me win things easily, and I love that chip you have on your shoulder. I haven’t had a bad day since I met you, and we’re going to keep having good days, baby, for a long time.”
“I love you too.” I cup his cheek and run my fingers down his jaw. He’s growing a beard, and I didn’t think it was possible for him to get any hotter. “I love you so much, those three words don’t feel like enough. I love you more than I did yesterday, which is insane, because I didn’t think that was possible.”
“Anything is possible.”
“Like dancing to a Justin Bieber song?”
“Fuck yeah.”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box.
A velvet box, with hinges on it.
“What is that?” I whisper.
“I had to save the best question for last, didn’t I?” Maverick opens the box, and there’s a diamond there. It’s brighter than any ring I’ve ever seen and exactly what I would’ve bought myself if he had given me the choice. “Emerson Rose Hartwell. Love of my life. The most badass hockey player I’ve ever had the pleasure of being teammates with. My sweet girl and my dream woman. Will you marry me?”
I fling my arms around his neck, and we go toppling backwards. Maverick laughs and brings his mouth to mine, a soft brush of his lips that has me gripping his shirt, needing more.
“You didn’t answer me,” he says, and I kiss him like there’s no tomorrow.
“Is my answer not obvious?” I brush a tear away. I blink and see Maverick crying, too, the stupidest smile on his face. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you. I’d be the luckiest girl in the world.”
There’s a cheer behind me, and all the Stars players are skating toward us.
Hudson blasts a confetti cannon and Grant holds up a shirt that says she said yes to the biggest dick in the world! Ethan and Seymour have a sign with nearly a hundred signatures on it, and Piper is crying so much, Liam has to drag her across the ice with his stick.
Even the grumpy goalie has a smile on his face.
Dallas is trying to keep June from skating toward her uncle, and Reid is shoving his phone in his jeans, giving us his full attention. Lexi and Maven hold hands and jump up and down, and I see my dad waving from a suite above center ice with Duke and Grady next to him. All of my favorite people are in my favorite spot, and I don’t think I could dream up a better moment if I tried.
“You’re not just marrying him, you know,” Ethan says, and he slides next to me. “You’re getting all of us.”
“A package deal,” Riley adds, and he kisses Maverick’s cheek. “A twenty-two for one.”
“I like those numbers.” I squeeze Connor’s hand and wipe my eyes. “There’s no promotional photo, is there?”
“Nope I just had to get you on the ice in a way that wasn’t totally suspicious.” Maverick slips the ring on my finger and runs his thumb over the diamonds. “Mine.”
The word matches the tattoo on the back of his hand, and it’s my favorite piece of art he has on his body.
“I’ve always been yours.” I hold up my palm, and the ring sparkles under the arena lights. “You just want to show me off.”
“Maybe I want you to show me off,” he says, and I roll my eyes.
“That does sound like you. I’m going to tell people the biggest dick shirt doesn’t refer to your actual dick size. Just your attitude.”
“Whatever keeps you talking to me for the next fifty years,” Maverick says.
“I have to ask my question of the day.”
“Don’t tell me you’re going to propose to me. I’ve always wanted a really shiny ring to match my necklace.”
I take his hand in mine and kiss the tips of his fingers. The rest of our friends start to break away and give us a minute alone, heading for the locker room or smiling for photos.
“I’ll get you a shiny ring, pretty boy.”
“What’s your question, Emmy girl? Is it how badly you’re going to kick my ass tonight? Because I’d like to see you try, baby.”
“The ring is pretty permanent, but what about something that belongs to you that will go with me to the grave?”
Maverick lifts an eyebrow. “What are you hiding, Red?”
I pull my collar down and show off the tattoo I got yesterday afternoon. The dark letters spell out mine in Maverick’s handwriting just above the swell of my breast where his fingers like to touch when he’s holding my neck.
“It matches yours,” I whisper. “I want everyone to know.”
“Fucking Christ,” he groans, reaching out to carefully trace the letters. “As if I couldn’t love you any more, you go and get a part of me tattooed on you.”
“Do you like it?”
“Like it? I’m ten seconds away from dragging you to the locker room and putting you on your knees. Maybe the next one you get can be my name. I want to claim all of you, Emmy girl.”
I bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling.
That’s already in the works.
“You think very highly of yourself.”
“Would you have it any other way?”
“No, pretty boy.” I kiss his hand and drag him onto the ice. “I sure as hell wouldn’t.”