Chapter 50
FIFTY
ADDIE
“One more of you two standing back to back,” Josie begs.
I groan, but JJ only chuckles. I’m glad one of us is enjoying this.
“Stop being so difficult,” Josie yells as the photographer points and clicks. “The people are eating this up. Especially JJ’s point of view.”
“Who would have known so many women would love hearing a man’s opinion?” I grouse.
Tugging on the back of my jersey, JJ skates backward, pulling me around the ice like an idiot.
“They only want to hear about the great Adeline and how she came to be such an amazing player.” He stops and holds out a gloved hand.
We probably look absurd decked out in our uniforms, minus our masks, as he guides me like we’re damn figure skaters.
“We have a game to get ready for,” I remind him.
His eyes dance. “You have a game. I’m on the bench tonight, baby.”
I shrug, though I doubt he can see it beneath all my gear. “Not my fault I’m better than you.”
He chuckles. “Ryan likes you better.”
Scoffing, I roll my eyes. “Are you saying our coach is giving me special treatment?”
Hovering closer, he kisses me. It isn’t easy with all the padding, but he tugs me by both sides of my jersey until we’re as close as we can get and presses his mouth to mine. When he pulls back, we’re both breathless. “Nah, he just knows who’s the better goalie. And that’s you, Adeline Langfield.”
“You are such a suck up,” I tease. “And yes, because you said that, you’ll be getting all the sex after tonight’s game.”
“Ah, perfect,” Josie squeals. “The readers are going to eat up these pictures!”
With a groan, I drop my head back. Shit. I’d already forgotten about her and the photographer.
I can’t be too annoyed, I suppose. Not after all she and Savannah have done for us.
For a week after Tabitha’s ridiculous press conference, we walked around holding our breath.
Freaking bodyguards showed up to escort me to and from the arena to keep the press at bay.
When I called my father to give him a piece of my mind, I discovered it wasn’t his doing, but JJ’s.
The two of them are more alike than I’d care to admit.
By week two, the first article had run. Savannah agreed with my dad’s suggestion to start at the beginning, so the first article covered our time at hockey camp when we were fourteen.
The summer before we played together for the Boston Eagles.
It was interesting reading JJ’s perspective of that time.
While I assumed he embellished a bit for the story, he swore it was an accurate representation of how he felt all along.
He was enamored by me. A little intimidated, but mostly just happier when I was around.
It was eye-opening to see how his thoughts and feelings shifted that first night after he came to stay with us.
I also finally found out what he said to me on prom night. I knew the words he spoke in French sounded like a love confession.
For the last six weeks, the magazine has published article after article detailing memories from each of our points of view. Everyone loves a love story. And reliving it is a blast. Even the messy bits. Because it got us here. With Avery. Together.
“You two done modeling? We’ve got a game tonight, ya know,” Gavin grumps from the bench. His arms are folded and he looks properly annoyed.
“Sorry, Coach.” I push back from JJ and dig my skates into the ice, heading for the locker room. As fun as going down memory lane has been, I’m ready to focus on my other greatest love: hockey.
“Is everyone decent?” I step into the locker room, one hand over my eyes and trying not to trip.
“Is safe. JJ would kill us if not,” Maxim says from somewhere deep within the large space.
I drop my hand, and when I find the whole lot of them dressed and ready for the game, I grin.
Over the last few weeks, I’ve seen Bobby’s ass a few too many times, though I’m pretty sure that was by design.
The kid is ridiculous. And in the grand scheme of things, it could be so much worse.
As long as they aren’t swinging their junk in my face, I’m good.
I’d still rather not see him naked. Even if he does have one of the better asses in hockey.
No hair; no tan lines. I definitely teased him about that.
Then Bray told me the guy gets spray tans, and I about lost it.
Fuck, these guys are weird. But they’re my weirdos now and they took the news of my relationship with JJ in stride.
It’s all I can hope for, especially because the media asks questions about our relationship, no matter who they’re talking too.
They’ve all started answering the way Maxim does. “Is love. Who doesn’t love love?”
The coaches enter the locker room, and the team settles quickly, waiting for Gavin to give one of his rousing speeches.
“It’s January, boys—” His eyes dart to me. “And girl.”
I drop my head and give it a shake, and a few of the guys laugh.
“I hope you all had a great holiday, but now it’s time to focus.”
Christmas at the brownstone was magical. Hope was worried about her daughters’ first Christmas without their father—he didn’t even call—but my brother was there playing Santa and keeping the kids distracted all day long.
We didn’t hear from Tabitha either, which wasn’t a surprise.
For a hefty two million dollars, she agreed to give JJ sole custody.
But the agreement requires her to answer her daughter’s calls every night.
Avery doesn’t ask to talk to her often, but when she does, we want her to be able to reach her mother.
If Tabitha doesn’t pick up, she’s in breach of the agreement and has to pay the money back.
It’s definitely motivated her to pick up the phone when it rings.
My favorite part of Christmas was the moment Avery appeared at JJ’s door, asking if she could snuggle with us before we opened presents.
The girl didn’t run down the stairs to see what Santa brought the second she woke up like my nephews did, instead seeking out extra snuggle time with her dad and me.
That’s just one more reason I love her so much.
She’s a special soul, and those twenty minutes snuggled up with her reminded me of all the times my mom and dad did the same with us kids.
All five of us piled into their bed on Saturday mornings.
It’s a tradition I want to start with Avery.
I may not have ever wanted kids of my own, but there’s no doubt Avery was always meant to be mine.
“What my brother is trying to say is—” Aiden interjects as he hops up onto the bench surprisingly easily for a guy his age and sways back and forth. “It’s time for a little Bolts edition because we are fucking winning tonight.”
The energy in the room skyrockets. It’s not often that Aiden breaks into song anymore. When he played, it was part of the pregame tradition. Now, he’s selective about when he’ll treat us.
When he launches into his own version of “Paper Rings” by Taylor Swift, I can’t help but smile and dance to the catchy tune.
The mood is high
Cause Addie Langfield’s ’bout to take the net
With Maxim Loob and Banksy on defense
We’re ’bout to put New York to bed
Bobby Dean is fire
As is our entire fleet
Hawke, get the puck for a goal or two or three
I’ll be on the sidelines watching with glee
Score one goal and it’ll be a good night
Oh. Give us another and please no big fights
A hat trick would be really nice
(one, two, one, two, three goals)
The Bolts like shiny things, and the Cup is better than a ring
Uh-huh, that’s right,
Stanley, you’re the one we want
The second time he sings the chorus, we join in, singing along with him, and by the time he’s finished, we’re all pumped up and ready to take on New York.
God, I love being a Bolt. And I really love being a Langfield.
JJ and I are the last to take the ice. Even though he’s not set to play tonight, there’s always a chance he’ll have to sub in, so the warm-up is important.
Loud music pumps through the speakers as we enter.
The arena is dark save the blue lights dancing around the ice.
The energy is high, but it rachets up a level when we come out.
With a nudge, JJ points to a group of girls holding up signs that read I want to be Addie Langfield when I grow up! and #13 is my SHE-ro.
I bark out a laugh. “I’m definitely no one’s hero.”
He shakes his head. “You still don’t get it, Angles. To all these girls, you’re a fucking inspiration. You made it to the NHL. You’re a legend.”
I shake it off. While I appreciate the sentiment, I’ve yet to earn recognition for tonight. I’ve got to block pucks to do that. Being a woman doesn’t make me a legend. Winning games will, though.
Even so, all the pink jerseys with my name on them do something to me. After pictures of my aunts and Avery wearing them trended online, our social media accounts were flooded with so many requests that Aunt Sara had a giant rush order put in. They sold out in hours.
I swear every person who bought one is here tonight. The whole arena is pink. I’m partial to Bolts blue, but it makes Avery happy.
After warm-ups, I skate over to the girls who are waving to me from behind the glass and smile for a picture for them. Then I head to the net. Time to focus and earn that title everyone keeps throwing around.