Chapter Twenty-one
I wake up to a text from Daphne this morning.
Aside from waking up next to her, this might be the second-best way to start the day.
Daphne: What would a girl like me have to do to get two tickets for tonight’s game?
She wants to come to my game? My heart does backflips in my chest.
Me: That depends on who the second ticket is for.
Daphne: Your sister, LOL.
Me: They’ll be waiting for you at the ticket counter under your name.
Daphne: What should I wear? A jersey?
Is she flirting right now? She knows damn well what people wear to hockey games. She attended countless ones with my sister in high school.
Me: I know what I want to see you in. ;)
Daphne: What? Nothing?
Oh, she’s definitely flirting.
Me: I mean … yeah, but that’s not what I was going to say.
Me: In the spare bedroom, hanging up in the closet, there’s something for you … if you want it, of course. But there’s one catch.
Me: If you decide to wear my name on your back, then I’ll have your answer, and you’re mine for good.
Another text comes through, not from Daphne, but from my agent, letting me know that the deal we were waiting for finally went through. Something I’ve kept close to myself since I instigated it.
Daphne loves her romance movies, and I’m going to give her a grand gesture to top them all.
Chet walks into my room as I’m doing my tie, sweating bullets of nerves and anxiety.
Why did I choose my game to be this big moment between Daphne and me? I’m jittery enough for the game alone. But I’m far more nervous about Daphne showing up.
Will she be wearing my jersey or not?
Will that be her final answer one way or the other?
Oh God, this was a terrible idea.
“You good, man?” he asks, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.
I nod sharply. “Yeah, just pregame jitters.”
He pats my back. “You’ll be good. Best damn goalie in the NCAA.”
I mean, technically, he’s right. Last season, I led the nation in save percentage. Which is one of the reasons I’m lucky enough to be pulling off the secret thing I’m doing with my agent.
“Thanks, man.”
He daps me up and pulls me into a quick hug.
One season left with these boys.
My eyes burn at the thought.
When the time comes at the end of the season, I’m going to bawl like a baby. My team, especially a select few, have become more like brothers than friends.
That’s the beauty about hockey. It’s centered around the feeling of family, a value a majority of us hold dear.
We support each other in everything we do, lifting each other up when we need it and cooling us down when we need to chill. There’s something special about this sport, a magic that resides in it.
“Ready to go, guys? We got to get going,” Ross trots into the room, dressed sharp as hell in his gold-and-green plaid suit.
“I didn’t know we were going all out.” I lift my hands in defense. “Way to outdress us all.”
He laughs. “That’s always going to be the case, Mase. I’m surprised you’re not used to it by now.”
I am. I just like giving him shit.
“All right, all right. What do you say, boys?” I take a breath as a smile takes over my face. “It’s game time.”
An electricity crackles through the air as goose bumps break across the tops of my arms. This is it. The calm before the storm.
“Holt!” Chet snaps his fingers in front of my mask.
Shit .
A couple of the guys are staring straight at me. Clearly, I zoned out and missed something.
“My bad. What’s up?” I clear my throat.
Ross studies me. “What’s on your mind? Get it out now before it’s eating you alive mid-game. We need you sharp out there.”
This may be a preseason game, but it’s a tone setter for the official season.
Regardless, we don’t like to lose—no one does. And I can’t hide a thing from these boys, not after how long we’ve been playing together.
Ross rushes me, motioning with his hands. “Come on, dude. What’s going on? You’re never in your head this bad before a game. You’re usually dancing around the locker room.”
I could lie and tell them I’m just nervous. But I don’t want to do that.
So, I tell them the truth.
Rubbing the back of my neck, I exhale. “It’s Daphne.”
Chet’s eyes light up. “Well yeah, duh.”
“Told you it was going to be about her.” Ross laughs.
I glare at him.
Ross shrugs and chuckles. “Sorry. But what about her?”
This is one thing I’ve always loved about these guys; they’re emotional and not afraid to talk about it.
“I kind of gave her an ultimatum before we left for our camping trip. I want us to make it official.” I pause, taking a shaky breath. “If she shows up in my jersey tonight, then she wants the same. If not … well then, I have the other answer.”
Ross smacks me on the back of my head. “And you had to do this emotional torture mid-game? What the hell is wrong with goalies?”
Chet smacks him in the same spot Ross hit me. “Shut the fuck up. He’s in love. He can’t think clearly right now.”
Oh, Chet, the lover boy, hidden beneath snarky quips and jokes.
I actually feel a lot better after telling them about it and getting a little of the pressure off of my chest. “I left her and Maeve tickets at the booth. The seats are halfway up from the team bench.”
“Well, it’s warm-up time, baby. What do you say? Should we go find out?” Ross offers me his hand.
I take it, and he pulls me to my feet as adrenaline starts to flood my bloodstream.
“Let’s fucking do this.” I exhale.
Walking past everyone, I step into the hallway, my heart in my throat, and head down the tunnel that opens up into our bench and the ice, leading my team.
The music starts thumping, right on cue.
Our entrance song blasts through the speakers as I lift my stick and take down the pyramid of pucks on top of the board.
Grabbing a biscuit with my blade, I skate toward the goal and fire it into the net.
Skating around the net, I look back into the flow of traffic, my gaze immediately falling to the seats I picked out for the girls tonight. But they’re still empty.
Forcing my focus back onto the ice, I glide over to my net and start carving it up, roughing the ice up and creating traction in front of the net, and scoot the loose snow to the outside of the posts.
“Hello, friends.” I greet each post with a gentle fist bump. “I missed you.”
I like to think they’d greet me back if they could. They’re as much a part of this team as I am, making more saves than me sometimes. I wish I knew what their save percentage was?—
Oh my God, stop. You’re literally mentally rambling .
Dropping to my knees, I stretch my legs out even more, going through my warm-up routine while the guys form their two circles around the red dots and start their passing drill.
My skin feels like it’s on fire, prickly and hot. Even on the ice, I feel like I’m a thousand degrees, waiting for Daphne to show up.
I can’t think straight. I’m pretty sure my lungs are malfunctioning—fuck, more like my entire body.
She’s consumed me, my entire being, and I’m helplessly at her mercy. I’m in my arena, in my own element, and all I can do is think about her.
I don’t know what I’m going to do if she doesn’t want to be with me. I can’t blame her if she runs away from us, like I did years ago. I can’t blame her for fearing that I’d ever do it again. I know that I won’t, but faith and fear go hand in hand, and faith in me is what she has to rely on.
A puck smacks into my side, and I wouldn’t have even noticed it if it wasn’t for the five others that follow right after.
Turning my head to the left, I find all of the guys in that group standing still and staring at me. My eyes find Chet immediately.
“Mason! She’s here.” His face is lit up, and a pulsing ache forms in the center of my chest.
Oh God, I don’t know if I can physically turn myself to face her.
“You and Me” by Lifehouse starts playing through the speakers, which is definitely not a part of our warm-up music.
What the hell?
As hard as Chet fights it, he loses, and a big smile takes over his face. “I might have helped a little.”
“The song?” I ask, stalling to turn and see if my heart is going to be broken or not while I’m equally confused on how Chet already knew about the plan tonight.
“Well, I helped with the song change and coordinating with the staff.” He lifts his hand, palm up, and gestures to the crowd, where Daphne and Maeve are more than likely sitting. “Will you hurry up and just look at your girl?”
I suddenly realize the guys to my right have stopped skating, too, all standing and staring at me with shit-eating grins on their faces.
I force out a heavy breath, inhale, and hold it as I shift on my skates and turn to face my future.
She might as well have a spotlight on her, as I find her so quickly, glowing like the fucking sun.
And wearing my jersey.
My girl.
My girl.
My fucking girl!
Our eyes connect, and a big smile erupts from her. My heart beats out of my chest as I drift toward the glass and stare up at her in awe.
Maeve pulls something out from behind her and hands it to Daphne. Daphne unrolls the giant paper—no, poster. Lifting it up, she tucks it under her chin, holding a sign with four monumental words.
I love you too.
My heart bursts, exploding like fireworks in the sky.
She bites down on her lip and flips the sign around. A tearful laugh bubbles out of me as I read it.
Only if you win.
This sassy, beautiful, smart-ass, perfect girl.
A thought pops into my mind, and my feet are moving, acting it out before I can think it through for a second. I skate toward the bench, drop my mask, stick, glove, and blocker.
The equipment manager stops me. “Where are you going?”
“Guards. Put guards on my skates.” At least I can manage that rational thought right now.
He does as I asked without hesitating, and for that, I’m eternally grateful.
“Holt!” my head coach shouts at me and holds my stare.
Regardless of what he says, I’m going.
And then his lips tip into a smile. “Make it quick.”
I’m racing down the tunnel as fast as I can, climbing the stairs up to the next level and bursting into the hallway. All while the music I’ve spent years listening to while thinking of her plays all around me.
Fans look at me in shock, surprise, and excitement, not used to seeing me on this side of the arena, especially during warm-ups.
But this is an exception. She is the exception.
Reaching the top of her section, I catch my breath as everything around me seems to slow down.
She and Maeve are looking at each other, confused and worried, facing the ice.
I descend the first couple of stairs hastily. Only a few more to go to get to her row.
Then, somehow, Daphne turns her head as if she could sense my presence.
Her hair whooshes behind her as she turns, and her eyes land perfectly on mine.
Her lips part, a nervous smile tipping the corners as her shoulders tighten.
She holds her breath, and at the same time, we move.
Toward each other. Toward our love and future. Toward everything we’ve been so scared of.
I rush down the last few steps, and she pops out of the aisle, blocking my path.
There she is. My girl .
“You’ve made your decision then?” I murmur breathlessly, fighting my restraint every second until she answers.
She chuckles softly, her voice barely audible as she rises up on her toes. “ Come here .”
I don’t waste another second.
I thread my hands into her hair, and she fists my jersey and pulls me closer as I tip her head back, and my lips collide with hers.
We melt against one another, pushing and pulling. My tongue parts the seam of her lips, deepening the kiss. And I can’t get enough of her. But the truth is, I never fucking will.
The arena around us explodes with applause, louder than I’ve ever heard.
Her hands slide up my chest, cupping my face as she kisses me unabashedly and passionately.
This kiss is everything because both of us are finally done hiding. And nothing is ever going to change that.
Securing one hand around her waist and the other around her back, I lift her up and hold her weight in my arms.
Her tongue dances with mine, and the softest moan vibrates into my mouth, the sound lost in the sea of ever-growing praise. I pull her tighter against me, if that’s even possible.
I roll my forehead onto hers, and we pull apart, our breathing heavy and ragged. My ears ring from the continued cheering around us.
My voice is raw with emotion. “I love you, Sunset.”
She claims my lips with hers before leaning her head back and looking at me with tears in her eyes. “I love you too.”
“You’re sure?” I ask with a smirk on my lips, not loosening my grip on her in the slightest.
A twinkle flashes in her eye, and she nods, wrapping her arms around my neck.
“One hundred percent,” she murmurs right before her lips find mine.
The crowd roars once more as I kiss my girl in front of thousands of people, Lifehouse’s “You and Me” playing through the speakers, and I’ve never been surer that in her embrace is where I’m always meant to be.
Lowering her safely back down to the step, I plant a kiss on her forehead. “Wait for me after the game?”
She smiles, her face as red as her beautiful hair. “Only if you win.”
I attack her with tickles, going for her sides, and she giggles until I stop.
I bend down and steal a soft kiss from her lips. “I will. Just for you.”
She rolls her eyes and pushes my chest lightly. “Good luck.”
Knowing that I’ve been gone for far longer than I probably should’ve, I glance down to the ice and see my team lifting their sticks in the air.
They shout and yell, showing their support.
They showed up for me, and now it’s time for me to show up for them.
“I’ll see you after,” I tell her, slowly stepping back up a stair.
She nods and blows me a kiss, and I catch it as I stride back up to the top, holding it against my chest.
People pat my back and clap for what just happened as I quickly make my way back down the ice, feeling on top of the world.
The guys greet me with smiles and smacks on the ass.
You know, the usual.
“What do you say, boys? Let’s kick some fucking ass!” I shout, and the energy electrifies.
We reset on the ice for the remaining few minutes of warm-ups before it’s game time, and I’ve never felt more ready.
During the next sixty minutes, I play the best I ever have. We don’t just win; I get a shutout and seal Daphne’s love permanently when I flip my net down on the ice and the team piles on me in celebration.
God, her cute movies couldn’t have written it better than this.