Chapter 51
fifty-one
SEBASTIAN
The Cup is lighter than I thought it would be.
“We fucking did it,” Griffin cheers as we lift the massive silver trophy over our heads.
Every member of our team, the coaching staff, and a few other key members of our staff form the biggest group hug I’ve ever been a part of.
It’s also the smelliest, sweatiest group hug, but that’s to be expected after a grueling hour of hockey.
“We did,” I say, the words thick in my throat.
“Proud of you all,” Maddox rasps. He’s clearly feeling as emotional as I am. Actually, when I look around at my teammates and Coach Fry, most of them have glassy eyes or tears rolling down their faces.
This is what every pro hockey player works toward. Why we put our bodies through hell, sacrifice our time, our holidays, all of it.
There’s a commotion as family members stream out onto the ice to join in the celebration. Only fitting, since they sacrifice as much as we do. And there she is. Beaming, beautiful, tears in her hazel eyes, Indie never looks away from me as she shuffles across the ice.
I can’t believe I get to share this moment with her.
Ten years. For ten years, I’ve imagined this moment, hoping for a miracle, but finally accepted that it wasn’t meant to be. Up until I saw her sitting in the stands all those months ago, the best I could have hoped for was that she’d be watching somewhere.
But she was watching here. Less than a hundred feet away from me.
“Oh my god, babe, I am so happy for you.”
I bend at the waist and wrap my arms around her, lifting her up and spinning us on the ice. Her bell-like giggle is the most beautiful sound, and it reverberates through me, filling every empty space, until I’m laughing with her.
“You’re so sweaty.” Her nose wrinkles, and I laugh harder. “I should have brought a change of clothes for when we go out because I’m going to smell like gross hockey player.”
“Sorry, Rosebud. I have Febreeze in my trunk.”
Her eyes glitter as we stare at each other, both of us here in the moment while also trying to reconcile the past ten years and what could have been. It feels impossible that I’m holding her right now. That the best moment of my career could be made so much better because she’s with me.
“Thanks for being here,” I whisper.
She smiles softly at me and brushes a damp strand of hair from my face. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
“How’d you end up in those seats? I thought you were in the family box.”
“Megan and some of the girls asked a team employee to bribe some people near the net. Offered them seats in the family box, free food and drinks, and a signed jersey if they’d switch seats with me, Lola, and Megan.
” She chuckles, and the sound vibrates through me, sending tingles through my body.
“Megan thought seeing me might help you center yourself.”
Pressing my forehead to Indie’s, I breathe her in. “Remind me to pay for a spa day for Megan and Lola as thanks because she was right.”
“Quinny!” Griffin skates over, tugging his wife with him. When I put Indie down, he wraps her in a quick hug, then Mira does the same. “You okay? Heard you had to deal with your asshole ex before the game.”
“I’m good,” she says, smiling. “Especially after getting to see you guys win the Cup!”
“Hell fuckin’ yeah,” Griffin cheers. The guys around us pick it up, and soon there are hundreds of celebrating fans joining in.
It’s a surreal moment.
Cameras flash, reporters mingle with the group, asking questions, and through it all, I keep my arm around Indie’s waist or her hand in mine. I don’t let her go until we head to the locker room to shower, and even then, I promise to make it as quick as possible.
We have some celebrating to do.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” I ask Indie before we walk into Chasers. “It’s a tradition to celebrate here, but it’s going to be crazier than normal.”
“Don’t worry, I’m good. I promise.” She interweaves the fingers of one hand with mine, while her other clings to my arm. “Just don’t let me go.”
“Never,” I vow.
The bar erupts in raucous cheers as we all saunter in like conquering heroes.
Maddox with Isla, Ryder with Lexi, Griffin with Mira, Logan with Blair and her brother Reed, and me with Indie.
Lola and Megan follow behind us to round out the group.
The roar is deafening, and with Indie protected between me and the others, I allow myself to relax and soak it up.
We’ll do our own private celebrations in the next couple of days, but the fans here have supported us through wins and losses. They’ve shown up even when we didn’t give them much of a reason to, so it was important to us to show up for them tonight.
People shake our hands, shout congratulations, take photos, and cheer as we make our way back to the massive corner booth that is unofficially ours. As we all pile in, I note with no small amount of satisfaction that it’s almost too small for us these days.
Less than three years ago, we had extra space. Sure, women would come and go occasionally. But the only permanent fixtures were me and my teammates.
Now look at us.
The five of us all happily paired up with women who fit into our family like they were meant to be part of it.
Who challenge and support us and call us on our shit.
Just six months ago, I didn’t think I’d be among their numbers.
I’d accepted that I’d always be on the outside of their happiness looking in.
Then Indie showed up, like a beautiful apparition, and now here we are. She’s one of us. Part of me. The love of my life.
And I’m never letting her go again.
Several servers make their way over with trays laden down with beers and shots. They pass them out to everyone except Reed, who gets a Coke, and promise to return with one of every kind of appetizer on the menu. Ryder holds up his beer, surveying the crowded booth with a proud expression.
“To the Rogues, winning the Cup, and the family we’ve made along the way. I couldn’t have asked for better brothers.” He looks down at his fiancée and the other women. “Or a better future wife and sisters.”
“Hear, hear,” everyone shouts, raising their glasses and clinking them together.
“To the best friends a guy could ask for,” Griffin adds.
“And to the first Cup, but not the last,” Logan says with a confident grin.
Laughing, I shake my head. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“We’re manifesting that shit, Bashy-cakes,” Griffin says.
Indie chuckles, resting her head on my shoulder. “Yeah, babe. He’s manifesting that shit.”
“See?” Griffin points at Indie. “Your girl gets it.”
“She does.” I press a kiss to the crown of her head, and the table breaks out in a chorus of awwws.
Griffin opens his mouth to say something else when someone steps up to our booth and says, “Indigo.”
There’s so much resentment in the way the guy says her name that every head turns in his direction. Indie’s hand finds mine, and she squeezes hard.
“Seriously, Ryland?” Lola stands in her spot toward the edge of the booth. “Are you stupid? Indie told you to leave her alone.”
“This is the ex?” I ask Indie quietly. My voice is calm because I don’t want to stress her out, but my insides are boiling. This piece of shit dared to put his hands on her? I want to tear him apart.
She nods against me.
“How did you even know we were here? Are you stalking her?” Lola stands on her seat, and Megan grabs her hips when it looks like Lola’s ready to launch herself across the table and tackle Ryland.
He scoffs at Lola, dismissing her as a threat. Which is a mistake. She may be little, but I have a feeling Lola could fuck a guy up with the right motivation. And hurting her best friend?
That’s the right motivation.
“I’m not stalking her. It wasn’t hard to figure out this was where you’d be. People were talking about it before the game.” Ryland turns his attention from Lola to Indie. “We need to talk, Indigo.”
I hate the way he calls her Indigo. Something about it is like fingernails on a chalkboard. Like he’s hoping someone will realize who she is, or he’s too good to call her Indie. Whatever it is, it feels condescending.
“We have nothing to talk about.” Indie sits straighter at my side, and I squeeze her hand, silently letting her know I have her back. I’ll step in if she wants me to. “You need to leave.”
Ryland scoffs. “I don’t need to do anything. You owe me a conversation, Indigo.”
“Why the hell would I owe you that?” Indie’s voice rises. “You broke up with me, Ryland. Or did you forget?”
“You really fumbled that, dude,” Griffin mutters. “Big mistake. Huge.”
Mira snorts beside him at the Pretty Woman reference, but Ryland either doesn’t get it or doesn’t care. He glares at Griffin and Mira before turning his attention back to Indie.
“I broke up with you because I didn’t think you wanted the same things as me, babe.
But now, here you are, pretending to date this fucking hockey player, so you’re clearly fine with the attention.
” Ryland runs a hand through his auburn hair.
“You’ve made your point, okay? Just come home and I’ll forgive you. ”
“Oh, fuck no,” Lola growls.
I have to agree. Fuck. No.
When I move to stand up, Indie tugs me back down.
“You’ll forgive me? For what? For moving on after you dumped me and started dating actresses? For not being completely heartbroken? What exactly do you think you’re forgiving me for?” Indie’s voice is steady, even as her hand trembles in mine.
I’m so fucking proud of her, even though I’m pissed this asshole is here putting my girl through this and fucking up our celebration.
“I’ll forgive you for trying to make me jealous with this meathead jock,” Ryland says, looking down his nose at me. “You’ve made your point, okay? I’m sufficiently jealous. But enough is enough, Indigo. I know you’re in love with me. You can stop throwing a tantrum now.”