Chapter 43
HAYDEN
Itake off on a breakaway, my heart in my throat as I leave Anaheim’s defense behind me, and I close in on Linc and Kodie, waiting for the puck.
Beside me, Fletch barks orders as the sound in the arena hits new heights.
It’s always the same when we play the Aces. They’re our closest rivals, and our games can get a little heated.
A quick wrist shot sends the puck to Kodie, who races around the back of the goal, the Aces’ Dylan Harvey right behind him, before he fakes a shot to Linc but passes it back to me.
I wind up and send that baby flying. The lamp lights up a beat before the arena erupts, and not two seconds later, I find myself at the bottom of a dogpile of hockey players.
“Fucking get it, Marilyn,” someone bellows as the weight finally lifts from me and I’m pulled back to my feet.
“This is gonna be your season,” Fletch says before getting ready for what will be the final puck drop of the game.
That goal has put us in the lead by two, and with only a minute on the clock, something tells me this game is ours.
I shoot a look toward the tunnel as I get into position to start again, and the second my eyes lock with a pair of amber ones, a fresh wave of adrenaline shoots through my veins.
Scoring a goal as D-man is fucking epic. But having my girl here to watch it, and knowing that I’m going to get to celebrate with her later, only makes it that much sweeter.
As much as I want to keep my focus on her, I can’t, returning my attention to the task at hand.
I glance at Brody, amused by the scowl on his face. Motherfucker hates when he’s not the one with the magic stick, and the better my game gets, the worse his mood becomes.
At least I won’t have to spend any time with him later. I’ve got plans that include me being in a very different hotel room after celebrating this win.
Pushing it to the back of my mind, I get to work, ensuring the Aces don’t steal another goal before the timer runs out.
“You killed it tonight, man,” Rett says when I meet him in the middle of the ice a few minutes later. “Anyone would think you had a little lucky charm watching.”
Despite knowing better, my gaze shoots to the tunnel. Disappointment floods through me when I realize that she’s gone.
I get it, I do. She’s working tonight just as much as I am.
With Anthony's approval of our relationship, she’s able to continue as normal, which, thankfully, means travelling with us.
The morning after our sleepover at her place, both of us went to visit Esme in HR to complete the paperwork the organization needed to make out relationship official.
I know it’s not a big deal. It wasn’t like we were signing marriage certificates or anything. But it felt like something. We were making it official as far as the Vipers franchise was concerned, and it was a heady fucking feeling.
Of course, as per her wishes, we haven’t told anyone else, but the buzz of the secret is a kind of high that I’ve never experienced before.
“Shush,” I chastise as we head toward the tunnel. I’m desperate to get showered, changed, and back to our hotel to see Hails.
I’ve barely taken two steps off the ice when movement to my left catches my eye, and when I glance over, every single muscle in my body relaxes.
Hailee is standing there in her Vipers-green suit jacket with an iPad clutched to her chest.
“Monroe, you’re on post-game press. Great job out there.”
I can’t stop the wide smile that spreads across my face at her praise.
That goal was for you, baby.
I desperately want to say the words out loud, but I’m forced to swallow them down. I just hope she can read them in my eyes.
“Monroe, wait,” Harry, our rinkside reporter, calls before shoving a microphone in my face. “That was a fantastic goal tonight. How are you feeling?”
Looking up, I catch Hailee’s eye again and remember everything she taught me during media training when I first signed with the Vipers.
“All the guys killed it tonight. Everything we’ve been working on during training camp is really coming together. We’re feeling good about the season ahead. And yeah, tonight’s goal lights a fire in my belly to go that little bit further than we did last year.”
He asks me a few other questions before letting me go and turning his attention to Fletch and Handsy as they step off the ice.
“Come on, let’s go clean up,” Rett says, before shoving me in the direction of the visitors’ dressing room.
Killer catches up to us and jumps onto my back, forcing me to carry the heavy motherfucker into the room before dumping him in the middle.
“Monroe is a fucking legend,” he bellows.
“Great job tonight, man,” Fletch says after stepping over his D-man rolling around on the floor.
Kodie, Linc, and a few others give me similar words, but Brody, my fucking partner, is silent as fuck.
Asshole.
Coach joins us and gives us a few words before he ducks out.
I rip my equipment off, shower, and change in record time before Fletch and I head out to the press room while the others do their thing.
The pride reflected in Coach’s eyes makes me feel like a fucking king.
I didn’t win the game; we would have taken the W with or without my goal, but that doesn’t matter.
And if there’s anyone in this world I want to make proud, it’s James Watson.
He’s…incredible. As a player, he was outstanding.
I used to love watching him when I was a kid.
But he’s a fantastic coach, and I’m honored to be on his team.
I follow him and Fletch into the room and take a seat.
I remember the first time I did this. I was fucking terrified, having so many faces staring back at me.
And when they asked me that very first question and all eyes turned on me…
I was so close to vomiting on live TV. But then I looked up and found someone loitering at the back of the room wearing a killer suit.
Her hair hung in loose waves around her shoulders, and the second her hazel eyes connected with mine, everything settled.
I forgot about all the faces, and when I answered a question, I spoke directly to her.
I don’t think she had any idea just how much she helped me that day, or every day since, if I’m being honest. But one day, I hope she does.
And today, just like that very first press conference, when I look beyond the reporters hungry to get their quotes and footage, there she is. Her iPad is still clutched to her chest, her shoulders square, confidence oozing from her.
Her eyes find mine, and she gives me the smallest of smiles, letting me know that she sees me, that she’s proud of me, that I’ve got this.
And I do. Question after question is fired at me, and with her there at the back of the room, and Rylee watching down from wherever she is, I have the strength to talk about my success tonight and hopes for the future.
It seems like forever before we climb back onto the bus to head to our hotel.
When we last played the Ace’s, we had a home game the next day, so we headed back straight away. But this time, someone in the travel department decided that we could have a night here before flying out first thing in the morning, and I’m fucking buzzing for it.
I want to celebrate with my boys and dance with my girl. Fuck. It’s gonna be an epic night.
We’re forced to wait around as hotel keycards are handed out, and the second I have mine in my hand, I make a beeline for the elevator.
“Wait,” a familiar voice calls a beat after Killer has pressed the door close button.
Tugging her carry-on behind her, Hailee slips into the elevator with us.
“The fuck,” I bark when Rett pokes me in the ribs, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “You’re an asshole.”
Killer glances over, and so do Handsy and Linc, but none of them comment as Hailee reaches out to press a floor, her hand falling back to her side when she realizes it’s already been pressed.
“Great game tonight, boys,” she says, glancing over her shoulder as we begin to climb through the building.
“Are you heading out to celebrate with us?” Rett asks, I assume for my benefit, but it’s not necessary; I already know Hailee’s plans.
We discussed them at sunrise after she woke up in my arms again.
There’s a very small part of me that worries we’re taking things too fast, but there’s a bigger part of me that doesn’t give a fuck and will take every single second I can get with this woman.
“Someone has to keep you all in check. I’d love not to spend tomorrow firefighting because of the trouble you got yourselves into.”
Rett scoffs. “Our girls are here; there will be no trouble tonight.”
“Is that right, Killer?” she asks, turning to look at the only single guy in this elevator.
“Sorry to disappoint, Hails,” he says, and my teeth grind, hearing him using my nickname for her. “But with these guys all taken, that means Marilyn and I get our pick of the bunnies.” He throws his arm around my shoulder, and my stomach sinks into my feet. “Ain’t that right, wingman?”
I mumble some kind of agreement while Hailee looks between the two of us, her professional mask fully in place.
Honestly, why it took Anthony so long to come to the conclusion that she could still do her job better than anyone else out there, whether she was fucking me or not, blows my mind.
“Wonderful. Just remember our call time in the morning, and the fact you’ve got a game tomorrow night.”
Killer lifts his fingers to his temple, saluting her. “You got it, boss,” he mocks as the elevator stops, and Rett, Killer, and Handsy all move around us to get out.
“Downstairs in an hour,” Rett says, his focus on me, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.
“You got it, man,” I agree before reaching for the door close button.
The second they slide together, I push Hailee up against the wall and crash my lips to hers.
We’ve only got five floors to climb, and I don’t intend to waste a second.
Her bag hits the floor with a thud before her arms wrap around my shoulders.
“We’re on the same floor. Did you have anything to do with that?” I ask breathlessly, smoothing my suit jacket as I force myself to take a step back before the doors open.
“No, it’s luck,” she explains, attempting to fix her lipstick that is no doubt smeared all over my face.
“What are the chances of us being neighbors?”
“In a hotel this size? Slim. Don’t push your luck, hotshot.”
“Hmm…I can’t fucking wait to celebrate my goal with you later,” I mutter, risking closing the space between us.
I can’t help it. Adrenaline is still coursing through my veins, her scent is flooding my senses, and I have her taste on my tongue.
“Maybe we should just stay in,” I suggest as the doors finally open.
I reach for her luggage before she has a chance and carry all our things down the hallway.
“Nice try. People are expecting you tonight. This is me,” she says, coming to a stop.
I glance at her number.
“I’m not next door,” I tell her. “I’m right here,” I say, tapping my card to the panel beside the door opposite.
“And you’re rooming with Brody?”
“That’s what everyone thinks, but I’m planning on hooking up tonight, so I doubt I’ll even untuck the sheets.”
She rests back against her door, her eyes running down the length of my body, her eyes getting darker by the second.
“Is that right?”
“Yeah, and I want to spend hours losing myself in her tight, wet—” The elevator dings, and my words die. “An hour, right?” I ask just as Brody walks around the corner.
“Yeah, I’ve prebooked Ubers.”
“Sounds good. Later,” I say, jerking my chin at her and disappearing into my hotel room, a sulking Brody on my heels.