Epilogue
HEATED REVELRY
Ginny
It’s weird being back in a hockey arena.
Weird but good.
I’m in the family suite with the Thrusters wives and girlfriends, all of them welcoming me as if I’ve been here forever.
Declan’s name and number adorn the back of my new Thrusters jersey.
I’ve answered dozens of questions about the winery, including questions about how soon people can order wine and how to get invitations to our grand opening.
And now I’m watching him and Alex chat at the centerline during pregame warm-ups.
For Declan’s first game back in professional hockey.
“Life’s strange, isn’t it?” a woman I vaguely recognize says as she takes the seat beside me. She has long brown hair, a muscular build, a strong jawline, and warm eyes that instantly put me at ease.
“It is,” I agree.
She holds out a hand. “Addie Bloom. I’m with the captain.”
“Ginny Rhodes. Foxy’s girlfriend. I’m a little overwhelmed but in a good way.”
Her smile grows. “Imagine so. Not every day your ex-boyfriend puts out a statement that he’s happy for you and his best friend in your new life together, and that he hopes your mother gets the help she needs.”
“I threatened to give him a wedgie if he didn’t,” Mabel says as she takes the seat on my other side, two drinks in hand.
She insisted on coming with me when I told her I was joining Declan for the rest of his comeback with the Thrusters.
I didn’t argue. I like having her here.
I like even more that she showed up at our hotel room wearing a Declan Fox Thrusters jersey before the game today. Mabel’s putting a public stamp of approval on our relationship.
The rest of the world won’t care, but I do.
“You did not,” I say to my best friend.
She gives me her straight-faced didn’t I? look.
Addie laughs. “When you’re done torturing Ginny, I have a rookie or two who could use some incentives to get in line.”
“I’m here for a few more days,” Mabel replies. “Tell me when, where, and how scary I have to be.”
I lean forward, listening to them chat about baseball and hockey while I watch Declan.
He claps Alex on the shoulder, then both of them head back into warm-ups with their teams.
I barely look at Indianapolis’s team.
Not when I can watch Declan.
He’s so graceful on the ice.
And kind.
So kind.
Shade’s on the bench, filming as Declan tosses pucks to kids pressed against the glass around the rink. He’s not doing it because Shade’s filming, or because the studio sent four other camera people who are covering Declan’s comeback from all angles tonight.
He’s tossing pucks to the kids because he loves to.
Because his heart is so massive.
Because half of what he’s always loved about hockey is that it’s put him in a position to give so much back.
His agent’s here.
Eddie, the producer, as well.
They keep to themselves in the family suite throughout the game, while I watch my boyfriend play his heart out against the team he should’ve retired with.
It’s a tight game.
Indianapolis goes up early in the first period.
The Thrusters answer it early in the second.
And then it’s just a defensive game.
We’re tied, one each, as the clock ticks down in the third.
Four minutes left.
Three.
Two.
I’m convinced we’re headed to overtime when Declan steals the puck with thirty seconds to go.
He passes it up to Lavoie, who takes it across the blue line while the Thrusters charge behind him.
Twenty-five seconds.
Lavoie passes the puck back to Cranford, who shoots.
Indianapolis’s goalie deflects it into the air.
Applebottom grabs it and drops it back on the ice.
Fifteen seconds.
Applebottom passes to Cranford, who passes to Lavoie, who passes to Declan, who doesn’t hesitate.
He swings his stick, hitting a slapshot that flies right over the goaltender’s left shoulder.
I’m already on my feet, but now I’m screaming and crying, blinking through the haze as the Thrusters converge on Declan in a group hug, clapping him on the helmet before he skates off to fist-bump the bench as the crowd goes fucking feral.
No one cares that there’s still seven seconds to go in the game.
We all scream and yell and clap—even Mabel—as Indianapolis loses the face-off and the Thrusters take the win.
Courtesy of Declan’s goal.
I’m jumping and throwing my fists in the air.
I can’t see through the tears of joy leaking out of my eyeballs as the wives and girlfriends surround me with hugs too after the final horn blows.
“Look,” Mabel says to me.
She points to the video screen, focused on Declan as he joins the line of Thrusters players to celebrate their goaltender.
He’s looking up at us.
At me.
I drop my gaze from the video screen to the man below on the ice, and I blow him a kiss.
His smile—his smile takes my breath away.
He kisses his glove and points it at me, then takes his turn hugging the goaltender.
That’s my boyfriend.
My heart.
The love of my life.
And I’m here—right here with him—until he’s ready to be done with hockey again.
“I can work from here,” I tell Mabel. “I’ll keep up with the marketing for the winery and website and label design development and I’ll call you every day. I can do this.”
She hugs me tight. “I know. But something tells me you won’t be gone long.”
The crowd is still screaming.
For Declan.
For his day to shine as number one.
The in-rink reporter grabs him as he heads off the ice. She’s a redhead, and she’s holding a puppet of the Thrusters’ rocket-powered bratwurst mascot, Thrusty.
“Foxy, what a comeback,” she says, her voice filling the arena. “How does it feel to have a goal in your first game back after retirement, and against your old team?”
“Almost as good as being in love,” he replies.
I sink to my seat, because my legs can’t hold me anymore.
“I hope you’re as good in love as you are with game-winning goals.” The reporter doesn’t move her lips.
The mascot’s talking.
And the crowd is eating this up.
Don’t go to a Thrusters game if you don’t want a good time.
Declan chuckles and shakes his head. “You should meet my brother. He has talking wigs.”
“Talentless hack,” Thrusty says.
Declan’s still grinning. “I didn’t get in any fights on the ice tonight, hot dog. Don’t make me start one now.”
“My husband wouldn’t like that very much,” the reporter replies as herself.
The crowd goes even more wild.
“I respect that,” Declan says. “I’d throw down for my girlfriend too.”
“Speaking of—I saw you chatting with Alex McMaren before the game. You two good?”
“I don’t make friends with people who can’t forgive, grow, and move on.”
“I do,” Thrusty says. “Why aren’t you talking about hockey? Fight fight fight.”
“And that’s a sign it’s a certain mascot’s bedtime,” the reporter says. “Foxy, so good to have you on the Thrusters. This is a night none of us will forget.”
Declan looks up at me in the family suite again. “Same here, Felicity. Same here.”
“Will we be seeing you the rest of the season?”
“I’ll have to get back to you on that.”
He nods to her, leaves the bench, and tosses his stick to a kid hanging over the railing along the tunnel before heading down it toward the locker room.
That’s my man.
Number one.
The hero tonight for an arena full of fans.
But my hero always.