23. Matt #3
Mentally, I make a promise to myself and to my parents.
I’ll bring the Cup to them when it’s my turn for a day with it.
Of course, the Keeper of the Cup will have to tag along, as they have to be with it at all times.
But it’s happening. I’m taking it to them, and even though my dad might not fully understand what’s happening, he might not remember who I am, and he might not recall my visit afterward, it’s a moment we’ll always have together.
I’ll remember for the both of us.
I skate back around and hand it off to the player who is quickly becoming one of my best friends, even though we’ve only known each other for a season—Luca Bradford. He’s the brother of Jensen’s fiancée, Lainey, one of our physical therapists.
At some point during that show, a hat has found my head, and I pull it off to find something I’ve waited my entire life to read—Stanley Cup Champions.
Putting it back on with ungodly pride, I spin it around because I know the next place I’m heading, and I don’t want anything getting in our way.
I skate back over to Shay, and she greets me with the biggest smile.
My heart does a flip in my chest as she sticks her arms up.
I snake my arms around her waist and pick her up off the ice, skating farther away from the huddle of people.
She wraps her legs around my waist, not caring in the slightest about the cameras and phones recording, just living in the moment.
When I tighten my hold around her, she giggles into my ear before sitting back up and looking down into my eyes.
Her red hair cascades around her face, and with the lights shining up above, she’s glowing.
“God, I love you,” I tell her again, and the biggest smile takes over her face.
She bites down on her smile before parting her pretty lips. “I love you too. So goddamn much, Matt.”
“Come here and kiss me,” I murmur between us, and she happily obliges my request, slowly, tenderly rolling her lips against mine. “You and I until the end, remember?”
“I’ll never forget it.” She exhales her confession before sealing the promise with a kiss.
I’m not sure how long we stay like that, gliding and holding on to one another, but I know I’d stay here forever, just like this. Eventually, we’re called over for pictures, and a switch flips in Shay, who fights out of my arms as we approach, softly landing on the rug that has been rolled out.
“You okay?” I gasp, searching her face for answers.
Quickly, she fixes her jacket and straightens her hair. “Perfect, MacArthur. Now line up for photos.”
I can’t help but chuckle as I salute her. “Yes, Coach.”
Dragging my fingers across her back as I skate past, I find my place in the middle of the players, next to Huang. All of my best friends are behind me, cheering, patting my head, and celebrating nonstop.
Of course, my gaze finds Shay not a few seconds after I get settled, spotting her positioned between Andy and Carrington.
I hope she’s doing okay, but by the smile on her face, she’s doing great.
I’m sure adrenaline is playing a part, but she’s a beast right now.
Like always, I’m in constant awe of her.
God, how can anything beat this?
We all smile and cheer through what feels like a thousand photos. Then we’re dismissed to shower and have a few moments to ourselves before all the after-parties begin.
“There’s my girl.” My arm finds her shoulders as I drift up to her. “We’re going to shower quickly.”
She scoffs. “Good, because you stink.”
“Hey.” I wince, pretending to be hurt. “You, of all people, know the smell of hockey gear, okay? Don’t be mean.”
Glancing up at me through her lashes, she grins. “I know. I’m just teasing you.” Her eyes darken, and her voice lowers as she continues, “Now hurry up and shower. Then come meet me in our room.”
A shiver runs through me, and I suck in a breath, my mind running a million miles an hour, mostly imagining her plastered against the mirror while I fuck her into oblivion. “Our room?”
She bites down on her bottom lip and nods, her voice sensual. “Yeah. I want to celebrate more.”
I click my tongue against my teeth, feeling my cheeks warm as I lift her off of the ice again, never wanting to let go. “Rooney, Rooney, Rooney, you win one Stanley Cup, and you throw all the rules out the window, huh?”
Shrugging, she beams, grinning from ear to ear. “What can I say? Love and winning have made me a madwoman.”
“My madwoman,” I murmur between her lips and claim them once more before she slides down my body.
Her eyes bulge when her toes touch the ice.
“Hold on.”
I quickly pick her back up, and her legs wrap around me again. Pushing my skate into the ice, I glide away toward the bench. She’s doing a phenomenal fucking job for her first time out here, but we don’t need to push it too far.
As I approach the opening to the bench, I lower her down into it and place a quick kiss on her forehead. “I’ll hurry.”
She purses her lips. “Good, because otherwise, I’ll just have to celebrate by myself.”
“I’ll be there.” My voice cracks, and I close my eyes, blocking out the embarrassment.
Turning on her heel, she struts off, but not before looking back over her shoulder. “Ticktock, Big Mac.”