42. Sienna
SIENNA
“Umm…How did that happen?” I ask, watching in awe as the barrier to the player parking garage opens as if by magic when we pull up.
Calvin shifts in his seat. “I…uh…I’ve put you on the list.”
I frown as I move forward. “The list?” I echo, not understanding.
“Yeah. It’s a list of approved people and cars. A friends and family list. Just over there. That’s my spot,” he says, pointing to an empty space.
My heart races as I park.
He’s put me on a list. That’s like…a big deal, right?
“So, whenever you want to come and see me, or watch a game, you can come down here instead of fighting with everyone else up there.”
I kill the engine and turn to face him, my insides doing happy cartwheels. “Whenever I want to see you.”
“Yeah, you know. If you have a day off and you want to—I’m sorry,” he says, suddenly cutting himself off. “It’s too much, isn’t it?” He shakes his head, chastising himself.
“No,” I say, reaching for him. The second I touch the back of his hand that’s resting in his lap, he turns it over and threads our fingers together. “I like it,” I confess.
He nods. “Okay, so…”
His hesitation makes my stomach knot.
“You have options for tonight. We can head to our seats as usual, grab a couple of beers and snacks. Or …”
My heart begins to race.
“We can go in through the players’ entrance, see the guys, go and grab some food from the friends and family suite and—”
“That,” I blurt, not needing him to finish.
He chuckles. “The only thing is, it’s only Rett who knows for sure there’s something going on here. Monroe has a good idea, too.”
“Why does Hayden know?”
Calvin ducks his head and rubs the back of his neck. “I…uh…I might have gone to him for some advice.”
I try to fight my smile, I really do, but it breaks free regardless.
Everyone knows that despite being the baby of the group, Hayden Monroe is the one you go to for romantic advice.
He’s spent years reading romance novels, and unlike some of the others, he wasn’t sewing his wild oats from the moment he signed his contract; instead, he has his sights set on one woman.
A woman who, despite the odds, now proudly stands by his side. Boy knows what he’s doing.
“If we go in there together, everyone will know. Are you…ready for that?”
I can’t help but smile. “Are you?”
“Yes,” he states, without missing a beat.
“They can put us up on the Jumbotron for the world to see as far as I care—which is a possibility, because I’ve never had a woman come to a game before.
” I quirk a brow. “Not like this. And I’ve never…
” He rubs his neck again. “I’ve never put anyone on the list before, either. ”
All the air rushes from my lungs, my heart aching for him and all the things he’s missed out on with his family refusing to support his career choice.
I squeeze his hand and take a deep breath, wondering how I’ve gone from keeping quiet about the man I’m seeing at the salon to potentially having our relationship revealed at a game for tens of thousands to see. “I want to go in there with you,” I tell him, my voice stronger than I was expecting.
The widest smile spreads across his face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Excitement bubbles up inside me. I’ve been watching hockey games for as long as I can remember. I’ve always wondered what it’s like behind the scenes. Sure, I’ve had a taste of it since Bea hooked up with Rett, allowing us to use the friends and family suite, but that’s not like this.
Calvin reaches out and wraps his hand around the back of my neck, tugging me over the center console.
“I lo—I’m really excited for tonight.”
I blink.
Was he…? Did he almost…?
I shove it away. It doesn’t matter.
It really fucking matters.
“Me too,” I say. “I do have one condition, though.”
“Name it,” he says, his forehead resting against mine.
“I’m going to need to document this for Garrett. He will lose his mind.”
“You got it,” he says before sealing the deal with a kiss.
We take a selfie in the parking garage, and I send it to Garrett with a happy giggle before getting our night started.
Walking into the arena through the players' entrance, holding the hand of one of the star players, blows my mind.
“It’s so quiet,” I say, my voice almost a whisper as we walk down the green and white hallways.
“They’re probably still in a team meeting,” Calvin explains. “They’ll be out soon for warm-ups.
My eyes are wide as we take everything in. The door to the trainers’ room, the gym, the locker room.
I snap pictures of it all as if I’m in Disney World. Garrett hasn’t seen any of them, but he’s going to lose his shit when he does.
Finally, I spot the rink at the very end, and then we’re in the tunnel, the noise level’s now significantly higher than when we first stepped inside.
The tunnel.
The one the players walk through before every game. The one that every fan sets their sights on, waiting for their favorite player to emerge.
“This is surreal,” I murmur to myself as my eyes lift from the ice to the crowd. “There are so many people already.” I’ve been sitting in that crowd countless times, but it looks so different from down here. So much…more. “Don’t you get nervous?” I ask, turning my attention to Calvin.
“No. I just go out there and do my job. Or at least, I did.”
“And you will again,” I assure him, squeezing his hand.
Suddenly, someone spots him and shrieks, “It’s Killer,” right behind us.
I watch in awe as Calvin pulls on a mask and turns toward the fan with a wide smile.
When I look up, I discover the voice belongs to a teenage boy with stars in his eyes.
“Hey, man. How’s it going? Are you looking forward to the game?”
“Yeah. It’s my first one. It’s my birthday, and coming to a game was the only thing I wanted.”
“Aw, happy birthday.”
The kid looks on the verge of shitting his pants when Calvin says those two words. I stand there watching him with the widest smile.
The kid turns to the man beside him, his dad, I assume, and he says something, but the boy shakes his head. “Go on,” Dad encourages, elbowing the boy encouragingly in the ribs.
He grits his teeth before pulling up his big-boy pants. “Will you…will you sign my jersey?”
“Of course, man. It’s your birthday; I’ll sign whatever you want.”
The kid quickly strips it from his body and passes it down while the people sitting around him begin to notice what’s going on.
The second I poke Calvin in the side, he turns toward me. “Can you take it to the guys and get them all to sign it?”
His eyes light up at my suggestion.
“Hey, you good if I borrow this for a few minutes?” The kid looks nervous. “I promise to bring it back in better condition than it is now.”
Barely veiled hope glitters in his eyes.
“Okay,” he squeaks as the sound of deep, male voices rumbles from behind us.
With the jersey in hand, Calvin spins around and spots Hailee. He saunters over, and a few seconds later, he’s got a Sharpie in hand and he’s heading down the tunnel.
“You coming?” he calls to me.
“Uh…” My eyes collide with Hailee’s, and she gives me a wide, welcoming smile before I chase after him.
As we approach the dressing room, the door is ripped open, and Fletch, the Vipers captain, emerges in full uniform, looking larger than life.
After exchanging a few words, he takes the pen from Calvin and scrawls on the fabric.
When he sees me waiting, he nods in greeting before heading toward the ice.
One by one, each member of the team files out of the dressing room, each stopping to scribble on the jersey Calvin shoves at them.
“Sienna,” Rett bellows. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” The sarcasm in his tone is unmistakable.
“Sure, whatever you say, Donnelly,” I deadpan.
When he lifts his gloved hand up, I give him a fist bump and send him on his way, all the while discreetly filming each of them. Garrett is going to kill me. I just wish I could see his face when he opens it.
“Sienna,” Hayden cries when he sees me, a genuine smile on his face. “It’s so good to see you. My boy has been doing okay, I take it,” he says, glancing at Calvin as he waits for Cole to sign the jersey like a proud parent, despite Hayden being a few years younger.
“Yeah. You’d be proud,” I say with a giggle.
“Any issues, you come to me. I’ll sort him out.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that. You’d better get out there,” I say, watching as some of his teammates overtake him, heading toward the ice for warm-ups.
As men, they’re impressive, but seeing them all in their gear, they’re even more unbelievable. How do they move as they do with all that on? It’s insane.
“Mission complete, darlin’,” Calvin says with a wide smile, clutching the kid’s jersey in one hand and a pen in the other.
“Have you signed it?” I ask.
“Oh shit, yeah.” He laughs before holding it up to the wall and scrawling his name on the arm.
“You’re gonna make his entire year,” I tell him as we walk down the tunnel again.
More seats have filled up, and almost everyone’s attention is on the players warming up on the ice. I get it. The things those men can do with their hips should be illegal.
My core clenches at the thought of Calvin using some of those moves on me.
“Here you go, man,” Calvin says, holding the jersey up for the kid to grab through the rails.
“Holy shit, are you serious?” he asks as he looks it over. “It’s…everyone is on this.” His eyes are wide and glistening with tears. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Calvin nods as the kid’s dad also gives his appreciation, before the sound of more players approaching erupts.
Spinning around, I watch as the Seattle players head toward us.
This is insane.
I watch each of them pass. I know most of their names and positions from years of watching hockey, but there are a few I’m unaware of. The most famous, of course, are Anderson Westly and Andrey Petrov, and it’s safe to say they have the exact kind of aura in person as I was expecting.
They burst onto the ice with cheers from their small crowd, and I watch as they begin to warm up.
“Hey, Killer,” a familiar voice shouts. When I look over, I find Harry, the Vipers rinkside reporter, looking this way with a microphone in his hand. “You fancy answering some questions?”
Calvin looks down at me. “You good if I—”
“Go, go. I promise, I’m living my best life right now.”
I watch him interact with Harry for a few minutes before focusing back on the ice.
“Well, well, well,” a female voice says, and when I turn around, I find Parker grinning at me. “So the rumors are true, huh? You’ve locked down Calvin Keller?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure he could ever fully be contained, but I guess you’d know all about that,” I deadpan, seeing as she’s happily loved up with Lincoln Storm, one of the Vipers wingers.
“Unfortunately, I have a little experience with wrangling hockey players, yes. It’s good to see you here. You need anything, just shout. Hailee will be around, too.”
“Thank you,” I say before my cell buzzes in my pocket.
A loud laugh erupts when I read Garrett’s first message.
Garrett: I just disowned you.