CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
GRIFFIN
Every time I step through the tunnel into the arena on game night, things feel right. The energy the fans bring, the noise, the cold. It’s a perfect cocktail.
But hitting the arena on the first home game of the new season, knowing that Casey is there wearing my name?
Fucking perfection.
There’s an electric buzz in the air, which always happens once we start the warmups and fans begin filling the seats.
I secured lower bowl seating near center ice for Casey and my family, so Casey could get up close and personal for her first professional game.
I spot them quickly, all decked out in Crushers jerseys.
Every time I blaze past, they pump their fists and scream.
It doesn’t get old…and it reminds me that if I’d gotten my way two months ago, I wouldn’t be living this right now.
Thank God my family set me straight. Including Dad, somehow, from the afterlife.
Pre-game warmups go well. The knee is as solid as it can be. Some of us on the team do the warmup that Casey enjoys most, where it looks like we’re humping the ice. I’m sure she’s amused.
In the locker room before the puck drops, I let out a big whoosh of air. “God damn, it feels good to be back on the ice.”
Colt claps me on the shoulder. “You fucking got that right.”
And as soon as the words are out, I feel the old familiar creep of doubt.
Right now, I have it all. And it still scares me.
But I’m not going to ruin it for myself. I’m going to fucking cherish it.
When we return to the ice for the puck drop, there’s a feeling inside me that is so big, so complete, that I have no word for it. All I know is that it comes from doing what I love, with the people I love in my life.
I don’t know if anything else in life matters.
The condo is quiet when I get home later that night. We had an epic home opener that resulted in a solid win, and my body is still vibrating from the high of it all. I went out for drinks with the team, so I’m getting home later than planned.
Casey promised she’d wait up for me, and as the door swings open, I see she kept that promise.
The entire condo is bathed in soft, moody light.
There’s music coming from somewhere, and I catch the faint fragrance of whatever dinner she prepared earlier.
I can hear her humming from deeper inside the condo—she must be in her book haven, which is what we call the spare room now that it’s been converted to her recording and bookshelf paradise.
The big TV on the far wall is playing a sleazy B-movie on mute, which she’s said helps her stay focused when she’s doing chores.
I don’t question it, because if it works for her, it works for me.
She hasn’t been going to Bayshore more than once a week because her filming and promotional schedule has ramped up so much. She blew past her “thousand fancy coffees” goal months ago. What she’s built on social media now out-earns the marketing job she left behind, and it keeps climbing.
Casey drifts into the living room; she’s wearing one of my old T-shirts and a pair of fluffy socks. Too cute for words. She gasps when she sees me and rushes toward me with open arms.
“Griffin!” She squeals as she leaps into my arms. I catch her easily, hoisting her into the koala position.
She showers me with kisses, drenching me with praise.
When she finally pulls back, I can make out more of what she’s saying.
“Do you know how fucking hot you are? My uterus is screaming. I think you impregnated me on the spot when you body checked that guy on the other team. And when you broke up that fight between Colt and the one dude? Oh my GOD.”
I’m smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. I thought seeing Casey in my jersey was going to be the relationship highlight of my career, but I never considered the possibility that she’d get this invested.
“You are so fucking good. Like, so fucking good,” she goes on, cupping my cheeks in her hands. “The Crushers are so lucky they signed you for another six years because you are an asset to that team. Do you hear me? An asset.”
“Wow.” I could listen to this as long as she’s willing to go on. “This is quite the welcome home.”
“I’m addicted. I need to see you play every time you hit the ice. Absolutely addicted.”
I squeeze her thighs. “I’m happy to facilitate this.”
She rocks her hips against me, dragging her teeth against her bottom lip. “Are you hungry?”
“I ate some pizza when we went out for drinks,” I say.
Casey rubs her palm along the front of my tie. “God, you look so good.”
“So do you. In my clothes. In our home.” I nuzzle her and coax a kiss from her. Our tongues meet, and she whimpers as we kiss.
“I love you so much, Griffin.” She wriggles her hips against me. “Are you too tired to fuck me on the blob couch?”
A laugh bursts out of me. “I’m never too tired for that, I promise.”
“Good. Watching my big hockey man got me worked up.”
I carry her over to the couch and lower her down gently. She watches me with a look so tender and beautiful that I almost go weak in the knees. Just beyond her, the grid of downtown Cleveland shines through the huge windows. I scoop one of Casey’s hands into mine and bring it to my lips.
I’ll have to get up crazy early tomorrow and do it all over again. And then the day after that. Followed by away games…more gym time…more travel.
But having her here when I come home, waiting for me, cheering me on, an integral part of it all, makes it all so much better.
This life we have together…it’s a fantasy made reality. And I’m not going to ever take that for granted.
Coming home to Casey Hart is the best decision I’ve ever made.
And I’ll keep making it for the rest of my life.