Epilogue
HAILEE
Inever expected to find myself in the middle of my own media storm. But that’s exactly where I ended up in the days that followed my very public reaction to Hayden’s injury.
I wouldn’t change it for anything.
Of course, the majority of the commentary was negative.
But that’s exactly what I expected. I’ve worked in this industry long enough to know how these things work, and I wasn’t disappointed.
There were comments about me not being good enough, too old, too uptight, and a million and one other things.
I won’t lie, despite telling myself that none of the comments matter, and to let them roll off my back, each one did sting a little.
Thankfully, the worst of it only lasted a couple of days before focus mostly turned elsewhere. That’s one thing you can guarantee in the world of professional sports: there will always be a new story that will take the spotlight from the previous one.
I could have gotten more involved professionally and had a lot of it removed, but with there being a very, very fine line between my private life and my professional life, I decided to let it all run its course.
With the help of my manager, we put up an official statement across the Vipers socials, which included a quote from Anthony giving his approval and wishing us well, which thankfully helped to squash the calls for me to be fired.
Every day since then, things have gotten quieter and life has returned to normal. Well, as normal as life ever can be when you live in our world.
Hayden’s injury has been healing more every day.
His stitches have been removed, and it’s beginning to look better.
He’ll probably be left with a small scar, but I highly doubt it’ll be his last. He has a long future in the league ahead of him, and there will no doubt be countless injuries.
We just have to pray that none of them are more serious than the one he suffered in San Diego.
Despite his concerns about his performance that night, he’s been named in the starting lineup ever since—something that he’s incredibly happy about, but he’s not taking it for granted.
There have been increasing rumors of a trade happening recently, and every time it’s mentioned, his anxiety spikes.
I’m confident that he’s not going anywhere, and I think secretly, he is too.
For him, it’s more about who will come in, and if their presence will mean he’s shifted back down to the second line.
All he can do is keep playing the best he can and trust that Coach knows what he’s doing.
From what I can see, Hayden and Rett make an incredible partnership, and they’re only getting stronger with every game they play. We just hope that is enough.
“You haven’t changed pages in about twenty minutes,” Hayden points out, glancing from me to the book in my hands.
“Uh…I got a little lost in my thoughts,” I confess, dropping the paperback to my lap.
Hayden chuckles. “I thought you were desperate to know if they find her,” he teases, talking about the kidnapped girl in the series we’re reading. Predictably, he’s well ahead of me, but he’s doing a good job of keeping spoilers to himself.
“I do. My mind just wandered.”
He lowers his own book—the next one in the series—and turns his full focus on me. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, just thinking about the last few weeks.”
“Not regretting it, I hope.”
I smile at him. “Never.” The media coverage of our relationship aside, everything has been perfect.
We’ve spent as much time together as possible, which is challenging when we’re both so busy.
And when he’s been on the road, I’ve hung out with Bea, Freya, and Casey.
We’ve watched games together, been out for brunch, and been on shopping trips—mostly for baby Donnelly.
They’re all things I never really got to do growing up, but I’m loving getting a do-over with the most incredible group of women.
“How’s your knee?” I ask, glancing down at the ice pack he has on it.
“It’ll be fine. I’ve got another session with Darcy in the morning. There isn’t a chance I’m missing tomorrow night’s game,” he says, smiling proudly at me.
Excitement flutters in my stomach.
I’ve officially got tomorrow night off work, and I’m attending my first Vipers game as a fan.
No, not just a fan. As a WAG. I’m going to stand with Casey, Sutton, Freya, and Bea while proudly wearing my man’s jersey and scream bloody murder for him every time he steps out on the ice. I can’t freaking wait.
“You’d better be. I’d hate to have to switch my jersey last minute and support someone else,” I tease.
“Watch it,” Hayden growls, reaching out and wrapping his hand around the back of my neck, dragging me closer.
Our eyes hold, his lips hovering in front of mine. So close but not quite close enough.
“The only jersey you ever wear is mine, baby. You got that?”
Heat surges south at the possessiveness in his tone.
I nod. I’d never wear anyone else's jersey to a game, but I won’t ever stop winding him up. I love it when he gets a bit feral.
Finally, he gives me what I need and brushes his lips against mine. I groan, abandoning my book fully in favor of him.
I slide my hand from his stomach up to his chest, loving the way his muscles bunch under my touch.
The second I wrap my hand around the back of his neck, he hauls me from my side of the bed and deposits me in his lap.
“That’s better,” he growls into our kiss as his hands slide beneath my tank, cupping my heavy breasts.
“Fuck,” I gasp when he pinches my nipples, sending fire straight to my core.
“Oh yeah,” he groans when I start grinding down on him. “Use me, baby. Fucking love watching you take what you need.”
His cock is like steel between my legs. It feels so good against my clit. The only thing that could be better is having him inside me.
My core clenches at the thought, but as much as I want to feel him stretching me open, I’m already reaching toward my first release just from this alone.
He drags my tank from my body, throwing it to the floor before sitting up and sucking one of my nipples into his mouth.
“Oh God,” I cry, my head falling back as I teeter right on the edge.
“Come for me, Hails. Show me what a fucking goddess you are.”
His deep voice rumbles through me, and with one more graze of his dick against my clit, I throw myself over the edge, knowing that he’ll catch me long before I hit the ground.
“Hayden,” I whimper as pleasure consumes my body.
I’m vaguely aware of my cell ringing on the nightstand, but I’m too blissed out to really focus on it.
Hayden is a little more aware, though, because before I’ve fully come down from my high, he’s saying my name, and not in a sexy kind of way.
“Hailee.” His serious tone cuts through the lingering pleasure and I open my eyes, staring straight at him. “Your cell.”
“Y-yeah, I—” I glance over at my nightstand and see the exact same thing that’s sobered him. “Shit.” I jump off him and scramble across the bed to answer.
I’m still breathless as I drag my finger across the screen. But I don’t have time to second-guess my actions.
She said she’d call if and when she got news. And a call from my lawyer after ten o'clock at night can only indicate that she has some, and that it’s important.
“Hello,” I pant into the phone, cringing at how I must sound.
“Hailee, I’m so sorry to call at this time of night. You weren’t sleeping, were you?” she asks, as I climb from the bed and start pacing, Hayden’s stare burning into me.
“N-no. I was…working out,” I lie.
Hayden snorts a laugh, and I cut him a look that would usually have six-foot-plus men cowering, but it no longer works on him; he knows me far too well now.
“Okay, good.”
“What is it?” I ask in a rush, impatient to hear what she has to say.
There’s a beat of silence. My heart is in my throat, and I’m pretty sure it’s stopped beating.
“He signed, Hailee. You’re getting divorced.”
My eyes find Hayden’s as those words hit me, and the next thing I know, my knees buckle and I’m in a heap on the floor.
“Hails,” he cries, throwing himself from the bed and landing beside me as tears of relief erupt, spilling down my cheeks at an unstoppable rate.
My lawyer continues to speak, but I don’t hear a word of it as Hayden takes my face in his hands and stares so deeply into my soul, I don’t have a chance of ever hiding from him.
“Baby?” he whispers.
“He…he signed.”
A huge rush of air covers my face before Hayden’s lips curl into a smile.
“It’s over. I’m…I’m free.”
Despite saying the words, it’s almost impossible to believe them.
After so many years of thinking that I’ll always be connected to the mistakes of my past, it’s going to take time to register that it’s over. That I never have to think about any of it, any of them, again.
A manic laugh erupts and my cell falls from my fingers as Hayden’s lips collide with mine.
“It’s over, baby. It’s fucking over,” he says into our kiss as he lays me back and crawls between my thighs.
A loud sob of relief rips from my throat, but somehow, I manage not to break our kiss or release my hold on him.
Fuck. I never want to let go.
“The call,” I cry, remembering that my lawyer is still on the phone.
“I hung up. Call her back later,” he growls before claiming my lips again.
Our kiss is wet and messy, and our hands are everywhere.
It’s perfect.
Sliding my hands down his back, I tuck my fingers under the waistband of his boxers and shove them over his ass.
“Fuck, Hails,” he groans.
“Yes. Fuck me. Please. Show me who I belong to.”
Suddenly, he sits up and stares down. His chest is heaving, his lips are swollen, his eyes are dark, and his hair is a mess from my fingers.
Fuck. He looks unbelievably hot.
“You might be mine, Hailee, but you don’t belong to me. You don’t belong to anyone. You’re your own person with your own dreams and hopes for the future. I’m just the lucky motherfucker who gets to experience it all by your side.”