Chapter 44
FORTY-FOUR
SUTTON
“You saw that, right?” I push my hands into my cheeks as I run to the bathroom. “He mouthed I love you.”
Elliot trails behind me. After Cooper’s record-breaking goal and spur-of-the-moment admittance to the crowd that he loved me, I took off. Elliot grabbed my hand, trying to convince me to stay for the rest of the game, but my body was—still is—on fire.
I’m surprised I didn’t burn her hand. Heat licking up my body, my chest and face are a deep shade of red.
“Slow down,” she calls to me. Meave is right behind her. Cooper’s sisters stayed, but they saw. How could they not?
I throw open the door and go to the furthest sink. Gripping the porcelain, I drag in a deep inhale. “He said I love you.”
“He did.” My best friends are smiling, way too exuberant about the situation. “Personally, I loved it. One of the biggest moments in his college career and the first thing he thinks about is you. Oh my gosh. It’s almost giving rom-com movie.”
Dang it. Elliot has a point.
“But I love you?” I turn on the faucet, all the way to the left, in need of a reprieve. Testing it, I splash my face, careful not to ruin the number painted on my right cheek.
The water does nothing to cool me off.
I splash myself again. Nothing.
When I attempt to do it for the third time, Elliot stops my hands. Turns off the water, then spins me to face her.
“But he…he hated me?”
“Sutton, you are joking right? That boy has never hated you.”
“Bu—”
“Ah.” She tilts her head sternly. “Whatever you were about to say, save the words. You also never hated him. Rival, shmival. That’s also a load of bullshit, let’s get that straight right now.” Elliot stops me from speaking again. “Tell me I’m right.”
I blow out a hot breath into the hand cupping my mouth. “Can you move your hand?” I garble. “Thank you. And fine, you’re right. My hatred of Cooper was displaced interest.”
“Infatuation,” she bickers.
“Any annoyance. A nuisance.”
My sister snorts. “A fixated passion.”
“Crush,” I relent, eyes finding the ceiling.
“Love.”
I shake my head no. “I don’t…I don’t…damnit.”
I’m not falling. I’ve landed. I love Cooper.
“You love him, too.” She smiles brightly. “I think if you look back, you’ll realize you’ve loved him for quite some time.”
“Yeah, maybe when we were kids and I didn’t know the difference between being smitten and love.”
“No, Sutton. These years. Come on. Streaming his games when you can, checking the school’s athletic website for live updates, keeping his signed playing card, hiding his high school T-shirt in the back of your closet behind your winter gear basket, only to wear it when you’re anxious.”
I feel exposed. No one was supposed to know about all that. And so what if I’ve maybe loved him for longer and didn’t realize it? I realize it, know it, now.
“H-ho-how’d you know?”
“Blondes are a lot smarter than people think.” She sassily tosses her long blonde hair. “Because you’re my best friend and I care about you. I know—and notice—more about you than you’d think. You’re one of my favorite people ever, so why wouldn’t I?”
Elliot’s words are a warm hug. A hug that I didn’t realize I needed, or have been craving. After what happened in high school and then leaving for college, I lost the people I was closest to. Once again felt cast aside like I didn’t matter. Forgotten.
That’s when I met Elliot.
“You’re my favorite, too.”
“Number three to Meave and Cooper, but—”
“They don’t count.” Meave huffs, arms crossed in front of her chest. “Number one.” I give her shoulder a nudge. “And on the terms of friendship, I have to admit that I notice things too.”
I snag a paper towel to blot my face. The pink of my cheeks still stained from Cooper. When I’m free of potential makeup stains, I grab both of them in a hug. “I love you both.”
“We love you too,” Meave responds, “but we should probably go now. I bet he’s freaked out that he spooked you.”
Elliot leads the way out of the bathroom. We head to the hallway that goes to the locker room. Family, significant others, and friends are gathered there for our guys.
“Hey, Sutton. Hey, Elliot,” Jake greets. “I was looking for you after the game ended and people cleared out.”
“Minor emergency. Cooper mouthed—” Meave smacks Elliot in the stomach. “Cooper’s goal really got to our girl here.”
“If that was Dawson, I would have reacted the same.” Jake didn’t know anything about hockey before they started dating. Not that Dawson knows that much about soccer. “Does he get a medal or trophy for it?”
“No. The school might do something for him, but otherwise it’s bragging rights.”
“He’d probably love a blow job as his prize,” Elliot teases. Jake concurs, nodding his head. My sister pretends to belch.
I roll my eyes. “He’d much rather go down on me as his prize.” It rolls off my tongue before I can stop it.
“I knew it!” Elliot squeals after her initial shock that I even responded.
An arm is thrown around my shoulders, and a kiss dropped to the crown of my head. “Knew what?”
“That you were a little munch.”
“Well, I’m not little, but yes, I am a munch. And someone”—he drags me into his body—“is my favorite flavor.”
“I can’t decide if I want to go pout in the corner, gag, or swoon,” Meave says.
I spin in Cooper’s arms, loop mine around his neck. My fingers tango with the ends of his damp hair. “Earned your nickname tonight.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Two goals, one assist, and one power play kill. New Most Goals In One Season record holder.”
“I could get used to this praise thing.”
“Oh, yeah?” I parrot his words and tone. Pressing onto my tip toes, I hover my mouth next to his ear. “Need me to tell you how good of a boy you are, Superstar?”
He swallows, lips smack. “Maybe.” My hunky superstar blushes. The color fades. “About what I said on the ice—”
“Carmichael!” his coach hollers.
He turns us, arm wound around my shoulders and chest. Cooper’s chin rests on the top of my head.
Coach Mathieson is standing with three men—two in suits and one in a pair of worn jeans, a vintage 1996 Atlanta Olympics shirt, a leather jacket, and a hat pulled snug enough to hide his face.
“What’s up?”
“I have some people who would like to meet you. Come here.” Coach raises a dark brow, then adds, “Please.”
“Does he ever say please?” I ask.
“No,” Cooper chuckles out. “You good for a minute?”
“Go, Superstar. I’m not going anywhere.”
I watch through the crowd, peaking around people’s shoulders to see what is happening. Lipreading would be a great skill to have right now. I can’t make out anything.
They shake hands, exchange smiles, and what I’m going to assume are congratulations. The men in suits appeared serious, but now that they are talking to him, they’ve lightened up. Cooper’s body language is animated. Whatever is transpiring, he’s excited.
Another five minutes pass before he returns. Most of the people in the hallway have left.
Cooper saunters over to me, mouth curled with the faintest of smiles. Eyes twinkling against the fluorescent lights reflecting off the white brick walls.
I tip my chin up.
“That was Chicago.” He stops in front of me. Wipes a hand over his forehead, bumps his hat. “The rumor trade…it was me. They traded my draft rights. Chicago has them. Chicago wants me.”
I think I know, but I ask, wanting to hear him say it. “What does this mean?”
“I’m playing for Chicago after graduation.” His hand is massaging the facial hair on his jaw, brown eyes blinking in disbelief.
I throw my arms around his neck and hug him into me. Tears prickling, working to escape. “You’re playing for Chicago,” I repeat. His dream team.
“They want me.” It’s said into my shoulder, a dampness seeping into my clothes.
“Cooper, you are incredible.” He finally hugs me, squeezing me senseless, my feet pop off the ground. “I’m so proud of you. You did it.”
It’s a whisper, as if he thinks the is a dream and doesn’t want to wake up. “I did it.”
“We have to celebrate.” I run my fingers through the damp hair at the nape of his neck. Arms circled around his neck, heart in his back pocket.
“I was thinking about going to get milkshakes and fries with my girlfriend, then taking her back to her place because mine is going to have all of my teammates packed into it and no privacy. Undress her”—he leans forward, takes up most of my breathing space, but I don’t care—“with my teeth. Bury my head between her legs, probably twice, a time for each goal, before I show her exactly how good of a boy I can be.”
I bite my lip. Mentally buckle myself into the rollercoaster that Cooper just sent me on.
“This already feels like a dream and if it is, that’s how I’d like to spend it before waking up and realizing it’s not real.”
I kiss him. He might not believe it, think it’s true, but I do. He’s wanted to play for them since we were kids daydreaming about our futures.
There’s so much going on, I almost forget that he said I love you.
That floats around in the back of my mind, slipping out of the butterfly net I’ve managed to capture and maintain it in.
“I love that plan, but this is real…and your team and family is going to the bar. We should go at least for a little bit.”
The bar is packed. Our families come with us. Even Coach is here with his wife.
Everyone comes up to Cooper to congratulate him. He returns the high fives or fist bumps with one hand, the other never leaves the back pocket of my overalls.
He squeezes my butt. “I’m digging these,” he tells me.
My sister pushes her hand into the other pocket, swinging her upper body around the front of us. “Thank you. Only took me ten hours to make them, so please be careful when you are removing them from her.”
She pulls her hand away and winks before going to stand on the other side of the table.
One of the seniors on the team drags her away to the makeshift dance floor.
Tables were pushed to the outskirts of the place to make room for the influx of people.
Meave shrugs, then Molly saunters off to join her with another player.
Our moms are crushing our dads in a game of darts.
Chase and Elliot are at the bar getting drinks with Dawson.
Beckett took off an hour ago to celebrate with his sister which coincidentally was when a brown-haired dancer showed up. A vague memory of us drunkenly dancing at a house party earlier this semester flashes. It makes me happy to see her around again.
Jordan is leaning against the table next to us, arms folded and scowling at Jaxon, who is recounting a story to her. “How do you not find that funny, little Carmichael?” We overhear him.
“That was pointless. Stupid.”
“You need to lighten up.”
“This is light.”
“Okay, then you need to learn to have fun.” Jaxon does a weird dance move, making a fool of himself. Jordan stares at him, but I think the corner of her mouth moves upward for a split second.
“Wanna get out of here?” Cooper asks, mouth on the shell of my ear.
We walk hand in hand back to my apartment complex after Irish goodbying—a mutual agreement that if we said bye to every person, we’d be stuck all night. I at least text everyone.
The late March sky clear except for stars speckling it.
“How do you feel?” I break the silence.
Cooper tips his head up to the sky. “Good. Happy. Gosh, Sutton, I can’t shake this feeling. Everything I’ve been chasing is mine or on the horizon.”
“I think we can both agree you were going to end up in the NHL, but Chicago. Cooper, they want you.”
“I know.” His shoulders relax. “But that’s not the only thing I’m talking about.”
There’s a squeeze on my hand, a move with precise dexterity, repositioning me in front of him on the sidewalk.
“I meant what I said on the ice. I love you, Sutton. I’m sorry that’s how and where it came out, but I’m not sorry that I do.”
“I don’t want you to be sorry.”
“Good because loving you is the best part of my day. I loved scoring that goal. I loved winning the conference. But I love having you by my side every day even more. Whatever this future is? I’m excited for it because I know no matter what I’ll get to love you more than I do now.
To love you till there are no words to express it, that all I can do is let it bleed out of me—in my choices.
In my actions. In everything that I am.”
He wraps a loose curl around his finger.
“Like combining our jersey numbers,” I tease.
“Exactly.” Cooper drops the strand, runs his finger over the number stitched into the denim. “Took you long enough to realize.”
“Why?”
“Same reason I couldn’t leave you alone. Having you hating me was easier to bare than you feeling nothing for me. You thought I was competing with you, but I was only desperate for any attention from you.”
The intensity of his words has me clinging to his hand in mine.
Again and again, he proves in actions and words that he wants me. But I…
That day. We need to talk about it, but does it even matter anymore? Not when we are here now? I don’t blame him for my injury anymore. He said it wasn’t him who started the rumor, and I believe him…but it’s a road bump I have to pass over every day.
“And my project?”
“Selfishly, I wanted an excuse to get close to you again. But I needed it more than you or Coach knew. Today wouldn’t have been possible without you.”
“It would have.”
“On my worst days, when my mind was a rampant war, you were peace. I already found ways to tie parts of me to you, hold myself afloat. Do I think I’m in the clear?
No, but you helped me find a way through.
Helped me fall in love with hockey again.
” He tilts his head back up to the sky, then locks eyes with me. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I lick my lips. “I love you, too, Cooper. I fell in love with you when I didn’t want to. When I was refusing to face the truth and pushing you away. It’s always been you and me…and this idea that we’ll figure it out.”
“There’s always going to be something to figure out.”
“But we’ll do it together.”