Chapter 16
Winnie
Kelsey and I are halfway through a pretzel the size of a dinner plate when the third period ends. And just like that, the Titans lose.
The crowd doesn’t exactly go silent—it’s still Pittsburgh—but the energy dips. People start filing out with muttered curses and tired shoulders, and on the ice, I watch Lucky skate toward the bench, jaw tight, expression unreadable.
I’ve only ever seen him on winning nights. It hadn’t occurred to me that those charming postgame smiles were only guaranteed with a win and I’m not sure what this means. We hadn’t discussed whether we were going out tonight, win or lose, but right now… nothing seems like a celebration.
Kelsey leans in. “Do you think we’re still meeting up with the team?”
I glance toward the tunnel where the players are filing out, heads bowed and shoulders hunched. “I don’t think so.”
Kelsey’s expression is nothing but disappointment because I know she was looking forward to being drawn into the Titans’ inner sanctum—as was I—but it’s not something I can worry about right now.
Instead, I’m trying to figure out what my place is in all this.
I still haven’t been able to define what Lucky and I are to each other.
We started out as an experiment, but we’re clearly something more at this point.
I’m confused as to what my role should be.
Strong, silent supporter or reassuring optimist?
And what’s worse, what does Lucky want, regardless of what he needs?
Some people don’t take loss well and want to be left alone. Is he one of those types?
The uncertainty of it all has what feels like a black cloud of doom hanging over my head. For the past week, I’ve been riding an adrenaline-buzz high of unlimited possibility in an almost Cinderella-like dream world as the handsome prince looks at me like I am a princess.
“Maybe we should just head out?” she asks, her tone saying she’s as unsure as I feel.
But before I can say anything, a young woman wearing black pants and a purple long-sleeve polo with the Titans’ logo on the breast pocket appears at the end of our row. “Ms. Shaw?”
I blink in surprise. “Um… yeah… that’s me.”
“Mr. Branson asked me to escort you and your friend to the family room.”
Kelsey’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Family room?”
The woman smiles. “It’s where friends and family can wait for the players before and after the game.”
This wasn’t the original plan. We were supposed to meet him over at Mario’s, which is apparently the team’s known hangout that sits adjacent to the arena.
I glance at Kelsey who nibbles at her bottom lip in contemplation. “I’m thinking this feels more like a you and Lucky thing versus a me, you and the Titans team thing.”
She’s not wrong. It’s feeling like that to me too. “Actually, maybe I should head out with you. He probably wants to be alone.”
Kelsey shakes her head. “No way. He invited you to the family room. He’s clearly not going to be up for celebrating. He needs you to be supportive of him.”
I glance at the Titans’ staff person, who has her hands clasped in front of her as she patiently waits. We’re sitting down near the ice, but most of the people in our row filed out while we mulled over how the post-game will look like now that the Titans have lost. “But… you drove.”
“And I’m sure Lucky can take you home,” she says with a twinkle in her eye. She leans in, hugs me hard. “And maybe the type of support you can give him will bring a smile to both your faces.”
I blush as I return her squeeze and then push her away with a chastising look. “Stop it.”
Her return grin is evil, but she nods to the staff person with a dramatic sweep. “I humbly offer up to you for safekeeping this clearly ignorant woman until you can deliver her to the family room.”
“But…”
“Go,” she says, pushing me toward the woman. “I’ll eat the rest of this pretzel on the way to my car like the classy bitch I am.”
I squeeze her hand and whisper my thanks before following the staffer up the steps to the main concourse, around the arena to a private door that leads into a small hallway with an elevator.
Down two floors where she announces as we step out, “This is the basement level. The locker rooms, showers, therapy rooms and coaching offices are down that corridor.”
She takes a left and we head down another hall until we reach a door marked Family Room.
Inside, the lighting is warm and the walls are covered in dark paneling and decorated with framed jerseys.
There’s a buffet in the corner, juice boxes for kids, and several women in Titans gear chatting on couches.
I instantly feel out of place… an intruder. The staff person steps aside and motions me in. “Lucky will probably be about half an hour. Help yourself to food and drink.”
“Um… okay,” I say, anxiety creeping in. This is not normal. This is not average.
Someone touches my arm and I wheel around to see a tall woman with fiery red hair in a Titans’ jersey, standing there.
“You must be Winnie,” she says, smiling. “I’m Mazzy, Foster’s girlfriend. Foster called me a few minutes ago to say you’d be arriving and to keep you company until Lucky could get here.”
“Hi,” I say, instantly charmed and for some reason, completely at ease in the beautiful woman’s presence. I’m compelled to admit, “Sorry. I didn’t realize there was a whole room for… well, this. It’s a little overwhelming.”
Mazzy laughs. “Yeah, I felt that way too when I first started dating Foster.” She links her arm with mine. “But you’ll soon realize that there’s a little tribe of us who try to keep one another sane. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
My head spins from a mixture of fear and curiosity as she leads me over to two other women standing in the corner. “Winnie… this is Mila, Penn’s girlfriend.”
A lovely black-haired, blue-eyed waif steps into me for a hug. “It’s so great to finally meet you,” she says.
Finally? What has Lucky been telling everyone?
“And I’m Tempe,” the other woman says and then also hugs me. I’m slightly dazzled by her honey-streaked hair and vivid green eyes. “I claim Rafferty, although sometimes I question my sanity on that.”
I’m immediately put at ease by her teasing. “It’s really nice to meet all of you. And you’re so nice to include me.”
“Girl… please,” Mazzy says with a wave of her hand. “We Titans women are closer than the men. This is where the real power lives.” Tempe and Mila nod in agreement. “I would say tell us all about you, but well… we know quite a bit already.”
I laugh. “TikTok.”
“There’s that,” she replies. “But Lucky talks about you too. We just adore him.”
“He’s quickly become the heart of this team,” Mila says.
“But let’s not discount what we can learn from TikTok,” Tempe chimes in. “I’m not around, so the only way I really know Lucky is through his social media posts. But you can tell… he’s genuine.”
That resonates with me. I don’t see Lucky as a professional hockey player first. No matter his star-studded life, he’s very much just… human.
But I’m curious. “Why aren’t you around?”
“I go to college in Virginia. I’m on spring break right now.”
“A long-distance relationship,” I murmur. “That must be tough.”
“It is… but we totally make it work.”
Mazzy snickers. “And it is work being on the arm of these guys.”
My head turns her way. “Hard work?”
“Fun work,” she counters with a sly grin. “The best kind of work. But I’m sure you’re figuring that out.”
I glance around the room, other women, men and kids hanging around, waiting for the players. They’re all leading unique lives attached to famous, wealthy professional athletes. They’ve all probably felt like me at one time or another.
And I realize… these ladies offer real-world advice. I turn back to Mazzy. “So, um… the team lost. And it kind of feels like I’m going to a funeral.”
Mila nods, her mouth drawn downward. “Everyone takes the losses hard. But the guys usually bounce back by morning. Let them sulk tonight.”
“Not sulking,” Tempe says with a laugh. “Processing.”
“Speak for your man.” Mazzy chortles. “Foster will sulk and I staunchly support his right to do it.”
“Even better,” Mila replies with a saucy grin, “be his distraction.”
Everyone laughs and I feel even more at ease.
Mila, Mazzy and Tempe all tell me their origin stories but assure me I have the best meet-cute around.
I’m not so sure about that. Rafferty walked up to Tempe as she stocked shelves in a grocery store, grabbed her and kissed her, and asked her to pretend to be his fake girlfriend to save him from some woman stalking him through the aisles.
That sounds way funnier than the way Lucky and I met.
Before long, players start walking into the room and I watch as women hug men and kids latch onto their father’s legs in support.
The guys wear tired, sometimes pained expressions and the gravity of it weighs on me.
Lucky and I have had fun, carefree moments of laughs and jokes and… well, not anything overly serious.
And then… there he is. Walking in by himself, eyes searching the room. He seems to know where I am and locks on me in a way that weakens my knees.
Relief to see me there. A small but sad smile. An apology that the evening isn’t going to go the way we thought it would.
I see all of that in an instant, and I know I’m going to give him whatever he needs and it’s not as scary as I once thought.
His hair is damp, his jaw shadowed with stubble, and he’s wearing a suit but without the tie, collar open at the neck. His vine of four-leaf clovers peeks through and it’s sexy as hell.
“Hey,” he says, soft and direct as he reaches me. His hand touches my waist, his lips on my cheek. I’m acutely aware of Mila, Tempe and Mazzy staring.
I glance at them and they seem to be collectively melting, sappy grins on their faces.
Lucky’s gaze lands on Mila. “Penn said he’ll be a little longer. He’s got to talk to the coach.”
“Is he okay?” she asks, worry in her eyes.