Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
WADE
I shift my weight from side to side, scanning the rest of the team as we stand in a circle at center ice.
Spotlights dance all around us, except for the middle, where the Sun Kings logo—a blazing sun wearing a crown—remains dark.
No idea what’s about to happen because all we were told was to stay at center ice until instructed otherwise.
This must be Bree’s design to make a proper show out of tonight’s events for the fans, and for us, apparently.
If we were communicating like we used to, I’d know.
But we haven’t talked since the evening she kissed me, despite my text asking her to call me so we could talk.
She reassured me that everything was fine, adding a ‘really’ at the end of her reply with a promise to chat soon.
Yeah, nothing’s fine anymore. She’s avoiding me.
I get it. She’s embarrassed. I am, too, to be honest. Not because she kissed me, but because I should have just told her how I felt instead of backpedaling and letting her friend-zone us again.
Now I’m worried that if we don’t talk about this soon, she’ll do something impulsive like run away like she did in Texas.
A sour taste fills my mouth. Probably a good thing that several states separate me from Langston. If he lived closer, I’d likely be suspended from the league for inappropriate behavior by now, or worse. I still can’t let that go. Not completely. What that asshat did to her…
The lights snap off, and the arena plunges into near darkness.
I swear I can hear my own heartbeat over the crowd.
The crescendoing notes of the song“Radioactive” fill the stadium until the bass kicks in, vibrating the place as if the ice has a pulse.
Low lighting snaps on to reveal fog snaking across the rink, swirling with a life of its own.
The logo flickers and then…boom. Projected from above, flames burst out and dance around it, making center ice appear on fire. Gold and red blaze everywhere, bathing us in the onslaught as pyrotechnics explode from the nets on both ends of the rink, causing us to squint.
I raise a hand like I’m waving at the sun itself.
Totally radioactive.
The fans lose it.
Sudden bright lights illuminate the rink near the Zamboni door, where a red carpet covers the ice. Bree’s voice carries through the speakers, presenting Rebecca and Zach as they step into the spotlight.
And then Bree walks out. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome! I’m Bree Sutton, head of PR, and your Sun Kings have not one, not two, but three surprises lined up for you!”
Caught up in the hype, the crowd goes bonkers again.
With the biggest grin splitting her face, she pumps her fist in the air, daring them to get louder. And I’m totally enrapt. I’ve never witnessed her operating in her element, and she’s incredible. I can’t tear my eyes away as she makes a full circle, her full attention focused on the fans.
As her back comes into view, the shouts and cheers fade, leaving only the sound of my blood rushing through my ears.
She’s wearing a Sun Kings jersey.
My jersey.
Why mine? And what does that mean?
The next thing I know, Stingin’ Ray skates circles around us, making a big show of it as our arena ushers walk down the steps between the seats, handing out stickers and miniature plushies of our new mascot.
Most of the guys have neutral expressions on their faces, except for Ethan and Elias, who high-five Stingin’ Ray when he skates past. I don’t know who’s in that suit, but the guy—or gal—is borderline psychotic.
Kind of reminds me of the Flyers mascot, Gritty.
I hope Stingin’ Ray doesn’t have freaky googly eyes behind those oversized sunglasses.
Bree’s voice breaks into the music again. “And now the results of our ‘Name the Arena’ contest. We had nearly five thousand votes with one clear winner.”
Whistles and cheers fill the stands. The upper-level LED boards flicker to life in a synchronistic wave, circling the arena with flashing waves and hints at the official name until the lights gather into letters, form the words, and flash as she declares the winner.
“Welcome to the Sunfire Arena!” Mic still in hand, she claps before handing things over to Rebecca.
“Good evening, everyone. We are so proud of our team and what we are building here in Sarabella. Of course, none of this would matter without the love and support of you, our fans.”
More cheers erupt. The LED banners pulse with the words ‘thank you’ in all caps.
Rebecca smiles and waves as she waits for the crowd to quiet.
“You’ve all given us so much, and now we want to give something back to our beautiful community.
Next month, we will hold our very first Fire & Ice Fundraiser Event.
” She winks at Bree, who beams at her, making me ache for that same smile to be directed at me again. The distance between us is killing me.
Standing to my right, Luke elbows me in the side. When I glance at him, he hovers a hand over his face. I get the message loud and clear. School your expression. I give him a quick nod and tuck my chin.
Rebecca continues, “We have an entire weekend of events planned for you, including a Date a Hockey Player auction fundraiser.”
A series of gasps lead into an all-out riot of excited cheers. As I scan the fellas’ reactions to that one, I see a mix of mocking leers to mild dread on their faces.
Rebecca hands the mic to Zach, who flashes a very broad white smile. “I’m so glad I’m spoken for.”
Laughter peals out, then quiets, allowing him to continue. “As you all know, we have one of the best goalies in the league—Wade Pierce.”
My gaze darts to Zach, who waves me over. I glance at Luke, who shrugs as if to say he has no idea about this, then tips his head in that direction, telling me to get moving.
I swallow the bile in the back of my throat and push off my left skate, leaving the circle to glide toward Zach.
He watches me as I get closer and spin around to stand next to him.
“Goalies are supposed to stay in the crease…but not this time!” He pauses, letting the crowd hang on every word.
“During the Fire & Ice event, we’re throwing the ultimate challenge: an All Goalies Game!
The best netminders from all over the country will form teams and face off in a mini playoff for a trophy.
And if you’ve never seen it, picture our very own Wade Pierce, fully geared up,” he gestures down my uniform, from leg pads to helmet, “fighting for the puck, taking shots on goal, and showing what it really means to defend the net!”
This time, the crowd not only cheers, but stomps their feet, too.
Zach mouths, “Thank you.” Then he nods toward the team, letting me know I can retake my place.
As I skate toward the fellas, a chant breaks out from the stands.
Pierce! Pierce! Pierce!
Surprised, I slow my roll and lift my stick in acknowledgement. I’ve heard them do it for the Pay-man for obvious reasons, and for Jammer, but never for me.
As I get closer, the fellas tap their sticks on the ice in front of them, and several chant along.
I glide to a stop next to Luke, who lifts his chin, letting me know I should bask in the moment. To my left, Pay-man elbows me in the side while a cheeky grin spreads over his face.
Bree’s voice booms through the arena as the rest of the lights turn on. “Let’s play hockey!”
We skate off the ice, giving the crew time to clear the rink while they get ready to bring both teams out and do the national anthem.
Bree stands at the end of the tunnel with a huge smile. Her blue eyes appear glassy with unshed tears. And she’s still wearing my jersey. It’s not like she hasn’t before. She wore one whenever she came to a game when I was in the junior league.
But it’s different this time. Maybe because of the kiss I’ve replayed in my head more times than I can count. Or that she looked so confident and sure of herself out there. Like my old Bree.
Something primal crouches low in my gut, wanting the jersey she’s wearing to be the truth, so everyone knows that Aubrey Sutton belongs to me.
When I’m about three feet away, she rushes forward and wraps her arms around me. “Wade, I’m so proud of you.”
Without a care for who’s watching, I drop my stick and pull her as tight as possible against my padding. “Did you guys plan that?”
She lifts her chin and stares up at me. “No, Zach just ran with it. The All Goalies Game was his idea—a last-minute addition. Isn’t it great?”
I’m lost in the depths of her blue eyes and can barely remember my name, let alone give her an answer.
“Yeah, it is,” I mumble.
She’s so close—close enough to kiss. And I want to more than anything. Like a horse without water for too long and seeing the trough for the first time, I’d love nothing more than to dip my lips to hers and claim what I crave most.
But she’s not mine.
Yet.
Something shifts inside me. A resolve to do whatever it takes to win her heart and make her happy. “You’re wearing my jersey.”
She pats my chest. “Rebecca sprung it on me at the last minute. I didn’t even know I would be out there tonight, but she insisted.”
I grin. “How could she not? You’re amazing.”
An adorable blush pinks her cheeks. Unless that was there before, from the coldness at this level. Either way, she’s gorgeous.
She pulls away. “I have work to do, and so do you.”
“Can we hang out after the game?” I know I’m pushing, but I need time with her.
She tugs the side of her lip in between her teeth, which only makes me want to pull her back and feel her mouth against mine again and kiss that freckle on her bottom lip that teases me all the time.
“Hang out or talk?”
“What’s the difference?”
She snark-eyes me.
“Whatever you want, Bree. I miss you.” I hadn’t intended to say that, but I’m not sorry I did either. If I want her to know how I feel, I need to start telling her.
Her lips part as if she’s surprised. Her chest rises and falls rapidly. Is it possible she misses me, too?
She nods. “Sure. We can hang out. I’ll be waiting for you after the game.”
And then she walks off without looking back while her words hum through my head like a promise.
I’ll be waiting for you…