Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
“We’re going to the playoffs, baby!” Helm stands on the coffee table, a bottle of champagne in each hand, arms raised over his head.
The team erupts. Summer bounces on her toes, yelling louder than most of my teammates.
I pull her close and kiss the top of her head, grinning. “Still glad you signed up for this?”
“One hundred percent. This is great—”
“Get down from there, you hooligan,” Tara barks, swatting Helm with a dish towel.
Helm jumps off and—thankfully—doesn’t break anything. Including his own ankle. He does pop a balloon, though.
Summer spent the better part of three days pulling this party together after we clinched. Balloons litter the first floor, the island’s buried under catered food, and there’s even a bartender.
And to Summer’s delight, leaves have finally appeared on the trees, and a spring breeze blows through the open patio door.
I helped out where I could, but my biggest contribution was handing over my credit card. I’ve always been more of a partygoer than a planner.
And okay, my eye is twitching at the number of people in my space, and how much time I’m going to spend putting this place back together.
But she’s happy, and I have to admit, it’s nice being able to host everyone. It would’ve never happened without her.
For the first time tonight, and maybe not for long, it’s just me and Summer tucked against the wall. “Thank you for all of this,” I tell her. “I know it was a lot, with everything you have going on, but I appreciate it.”
She rises onto her toes to kiss me, mumbling against my mouth, “You’re welcome.”
I indulge in one more taste, sweet champagne and cherry on her lips, reluctantly pulling back in time to see Helm amble over, catching his toe on the edge of a rug. Coach told us tonight’s our last night to indulge until after the playoffs, and Helm is making the most of it.
“Cap, let’s get—”
“Hey! You! You’re Easton Helm.” Owen marches up to him, staring up with an expression that’s definitely not admiration.
Helm grins, bending down to his level. “Hey, little man. You a fan?”
“No,” Owen replies flatly.
The grin falters. “No?”
“You got a penalty for slashing last game. That was dumb.”
A laugh bursts out of me before I can stop it. Beside me, Summer’s shoulders shake.
“It was a bad call,” Helm argues, looking genuinely offended.
“It wasn’t. You hit him right on the hands. I saw it.” Owen crosses his arms.
“Well, we still won,” Helm huffs.
“Owen.” Ada appears, placing a hand on her son’s shoulder. “What did I tell you about being polite?”
“But, Mom—”
Owen shoots Helm one last scathing look before running off. Ada tips her head back, like she’s praying for patience, then follows after him.
Helm stands there, shell-shocked. “Did I just get roasted by a nine-year-old?”
“Yep,” I say.
“I like that kid.” Summer laughs, cheeks flushed from champagne.
Helm mutters something about “tough crowd.”
“There you are.” Fox swoops in, slinging an arm over each of our shoulders. Mia’s right behind him.
“I feel like I should take credit for this,” he says, looking between Summer and me. “If it weren’t for me, you two would’ve never met.”
I free myself from Fox’s grip, and Summer finds her way back to my side.
“Pretty sure that was me,” Mia cuts in.
“You’re right, baby,” Fox agrees, leaning down to give her a quick kiss.
“We would’ve met on our own,” Summer defends.
I pull her closer to me, my hand squeezing her hip.
“Fated mates,” Fox singsongs, before calling across the room. “Hannah! Fated mates!”
Summer gives me a look that I interpret as: what’s going on?
“Book club.” My thumb sneaks under her shirt, tracing small circles on her skin. I catch the hitch of her breath at the contact.
Hannah and Logan join our group, then Hannah calls, “Natalie! Ilya! Get over here,” across the room.
Natalie smiles and heads our way.
She’s halfway across the room when Volk intercepts her. She tries to sidestep him, but he’s faster. In one smooth motion, he bends and tosses her over his shoulder.
She lets out a yelp that turns into a laugh, smacking his back. “Put me down, you neanderthal!”
He doesn’t. He carries her toward the back hallway, and they disappear from view.
The commotion draws Ada’s attention. Owen’s close at her side, shooting dirty looks at just about any man who looks at her.
“They’re definitely falling in love,” Hannah says, then loops her arm through Ada’s with a conspiratorial smile. “We need to find someone for you next.”
“I volunteer,” Helm says with a smirk.
“No.” Owen scowls up at him. Ada and Hannah say in unison, “Absolutely not.”
His brows pull together. “What the hell.”
“Language,” Owen snarks, and Ada giggles into her glass.
“This is great,” Summer whispers, giving me a smile that’s only for me.
Fox wraps his arms around Mia’s shoulders. “Can you believe these two?” He tips his chin toward us. “I had money on Valentine’s.”
“I said New Year’s,” Mia adds smugly.
“I thought it was the night you showed up at the game,” Hannah adds, and Ada says, “Same.”
Everyone saw it coming. Even me, though I tried like hell to stop it—falling for her was inevitable.
“Wait, you bet on us?” Summer’s voice rises.
They’re saved by the doorbell ringing. Summer ducks under my arm with an “I’ll get it.”
My gaze follows her as she weaves through the crowd, exchanging quick words and a laugh with my teammates along the way. This isn’t her world. Or her people. She doesn’t have years of team parties and playoff runs to draw from. And yet—
“Your girl is something else,” Kettler says, appearing at my side with his wife, Lexi.
“Yeah.”
“I might have to hand over all future hosting duties,” Lexi says. “Not sure I’ll ever be able to outdo this.”
“Someone’s gonna have to throw a party when we win the cup,” Helm butts in.
I almost say Summer won’t be here for it. But I don’t.
I find her again as she swings the front door open. Cash stands on the front porch, floppy hair perfectly messy, and a bottle of champagne in each hand. He’ll get along swimmingly with Helm.
Hannah grabs Logan’s arm. “Shit, is that Cash Walker?”
Cash opens his arms and manages to wrangle Summer into a hug, champagne bottles clanging behind her. Every muscle in my body tightens, but I take a breath, then let it out.
Summer gestures for him to come in, her eyes searching the room. When they land on me, she smiles, and they make their way over.
Cash drops the champagne on the bar as he passes.
“Oh shit, he’s coming over,” Hannah whispers.
Logan chuckles. “I’m not sure how I feel about another man making you curse, Sunshine.” She pets his chest reassuringly.
“C’mon, Ry,” Mia chides. “Exceptions can be made for famous celebrities. Everyone gets a hall pass.”
“You do not have a hall pass, la mia fiamma.” Fox pulls her closer, and Mia blushes.
“Still so weird,” Logan mutters.
“Hey, Hockey Boy.” Cash pulls me into an equally enthusiastic hug, just like the one he gave Summer.
“Can I get one of those?” Hannah whispers at my side.
Cash laughs, having heard it, and pulls Hannah into his arms.
Logan rolls his eyes, but looks more amused than annoyed. “Nice to meet you, man.” He shakes his hand.
A similar round of greetings happens, some more colorful than others—Lexi asks him to sign her shirt, Hannah and Ada get a picture with him, and Cash obliges them all before things settle down.
Cash is easier to talk to and more charming than I’d like him to be. He wins over all our friends, and Tara.
I should be annoyed, but I’m not. He’s genuine and funny. Good to Summer. That’s what matters, right? That the people in her new world are good people.
Her new world sits heavy in my chest.
It’s close to midnight when the guests start to filter out. Kettler and Lexi leave first since they’ve got the kids and an early morning. Then the other veterans, one by one, until only the younger guys remain. The music is turned down, and conversation is winding into that end-of-party lull.
Summer, Cash, and I end up alone on the back patio, the string lights casting everything in warm yellow that fades to black in the yard. The night air has a chill, but it’s not unbearable.
We’ve all got a beer in hand. Budweiser for Summer, of course, something more palatable for Cash and me.
“Summer says this is your last night in town?” I ask Cash, trying to make conversation. “You’re happy with the song?”
I already know the answer. Summer’s given me a play-by-play of the whole recording experience.
But I want to make an effort. Whether I like the guy or not—and admittedly, he’s easy to like—I know he’s given Summer a huge opportunity.
That her association with him could take her a long way.
Like all things, connections matter as much, if not more than, skill or talent.
“It’s gonna be a hit.” Cash tips his beer toward Summer. “This one’s goin’ places. She’s talented.”
“She is.” My lips quirk up at Summer, huddled against my side.
“I mean, really talented. The stuff we’ve been working on…” He shakes his head. “It’s going to be something.”
“Yeah. I know.” The words scrape out. Wanting something so badly for someone while hating that it’ll take them away from you is a line I’m still learning to walk. “When’s the single coming out?” I ask, despite knowing the answer to that, too.
“Couple of weeks.” He takes a swig of his drink. “Same day as the CMAs.”
I nod.
“Was actually thinking…” he continues, looking at Summer. “I’m scheduled to perform. What do ya think about performing our song? Come as my date—management suggested it, not a real date or anything.” He darts a look at me.
My stomach drops. I know it’s not an actual date, more networking than anything else, but my body doesn’t seem to know the difference.
“Oh.” Summer stiffens slightly. “I don’t know. I mean, Kendra hasn’t said anything.”
“It was just presented to me this morning, so I’m sure your invitation is comin’.”
“Is this something I can choose? Or more of a ‘this is what we’re doing’ thing?”
Cash makes a sound that’s not quite a laugh or a scoff. “When you find a way to say no to the record execs, let me know.”
I’d think someone as popular as Cash would have more say in his career, but I’m getting the feeling that’s not the case.
Still, he seems pretty happy with where he is, so maybe it’s just the kind of thing that comes with the territory.
I never want to do post-game interviews after a loss, but it’s a small price to pay to do what I love.
I guess music comes with that stuff, too.
“Why wouldn’t you want to?” I look at Summer. “It sounds like a great opportunity. National television, press, and all that… Good for getting your name out there, right?”
She catches her lower lip between her teeth, then lets it go. “It’s the same night as Round 1, Game 7… isn’t that kind of a big one?”
Fuck. My chest is doing that too-big, too-small thing again. She went from not knowing anything about hockey to knowing the playoff schedule. For me.
“Not if we win the first four.” I force a grin, but she knows me well enough not to be fooled. So, I add, “Even if we are still battling in the last game of the series, you have to do this.”
“But—”
“Summer, I’ll never forgive myself if you turn down this opportunity just to watch a hockey game—”
“It’s your game—”
“Doesn’t matter. I told you, I couldn’t stand it if I held you back. Don’t—”
Cash clears his throat. “Maybe I should give y’all a moment…”
“No. We’re good,” Summer and I say at once.
Her eyes dart between mine, searching. I hold her gaze and will her to choose herself. To remember everything she’s worked for. The dream she’s getting closer to. Everything she can’t give up for me.
It’s the whole reason we agreed.
Just until you leave.
That promise belongs to another version of us. We’ve fallen into a rhythm and have forgotten about the rest of it, but the date still looms in the back of my head.
67 days left.
The closer it gets, the more I catch myself searching for ways this could work, even after she leaves.
Summer’s chin dips, and I catch her mouth turning down before she fixes it into a smile and looks at Cash. “I’ll do it. You’re right, it’s an opportunity I can’t turn down. Thanks for agreeing to take me.”
“Yeah. Of course.” Cash shifts his weight from foot to foot.
“I’m just going to check on Gracie.” Summer kisses my cheek and slips inside before I can respond, disappearing up the steps.
Cash sets his empty bottle on the table with a soft clink. “That was big of you. Telling her to go. Even though it means missing your game.”
I study the label on my beer. “It’s the right thing to do.” I know it is, yet the thought of her missing the game, and me not being there to support her for her first big performance, makes a pit form in my stomach.
“If she goes where I think she’s going after this song releases, it’ll be hard, but you guys seem solid.” He tucks his hands into his pockets.
“We’re—” I cut off, unsure how to finish that thought.
Just until you leave. That’s what we said. What we agreed to.
But that was before I knew what this felt like. Before she fit into my life so completely I can’t picture it without her. Before I fell in love with her—though, if I’m being honest with myself, that happened long before I was ready to admit it.
I thought I could keep it contained. I was better at that before her.
I don’t know how we make this work. I just know I want to. Even if it means watching her go and hoping like hell she comes back.
“I won’t stand in her way.” That part hasn’t changed.
Cash nods slowly, gaze drifting toward the house.
“When the song drops, her life is going to change overnight. Press, tours, label pressure. The validation that all those years struggling meant something.” He leans back on his heels.
“It’s addictive. Makes everything else feel…
small. And then one day, it wears off, and you’d give anything to have the small things again. ”
He pauses.
“Someone always pays for the dream. Sometimes, it’s you. Or the people who love you. Usually, it’s a little of both.”
I raise a brow. “Am I the small thing in this analogy?”
He shakes his head with a quiet laugh. “This probably makes no sense. All I’m saying’s that the world’s about to pull her in a hundred different directions.
It’ll be hard to keep track of up from down, left from right.
I’m glad she’ll have you to ground her. We all need that.
” He meets my eye. “You’ll be there for her? ”
My throat tightens.
For the rest of my life. Longer, if you believe in that sort of thing. I’ll figure out every impossible thing between here and there if it means keeping Summer Starling.
“For as long as she’ll have me.”