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I tried, he shrugs. Not my fault Spags is an idiot.
“I didn’t think you’d do it.” Spaeglin is still fucking talking and I swear there’s a twitch in the corner of Tristan’s eye. I can’t tell if she’s gone catatonic or if she’s about to explode outward like a supernova, engulfing the rookie in a white-hot flame. Not sure I wouldn’t shove him right into her path. Several of the guys are pushing closer, wanting to get an eye on the simple band looped around her finger. They all want to see for themselves and get close enough to hear what she has to say about it.
“Was Elvis there?” One defender asks as he dekes his way around Jack to look at Tristan’s hand up close.
Yes. He was.
“Who’s Mr. Lucky Charm?” Pelletier asks. “Or Mrs.? We don’t judge.”
Both Beau and Jack flick their eyes to me and then back to our shell-shocked social media manager. My fingers loop around my own ring, squeezing until I’m sure there’s a perfect round indent in my palm.
Tristan’s hand is still up, floating in the air as she unfurls her fingers to stare at the piece of jewelry. Her face is so carefully blank that I just know her brain is moving a million miles an hour, trying to sort out the night before. I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure how much she’d remember, but I didn’t think she’d be blindsided quite like this. I assumed she’d have seen the ring while getting dressed, sneaking out, grabbing her luggage. At any point in time before now. I wonder if there are even snippets of potential memories, like a movie trailer of our night together.
“It’s obviously V—” Spaeglin cuts himself off at the murder on my face. “someone very lucky,” he finishes, but it’s too late. The only person who hasn’t turned to stare at me is Tristan herself. She’s still looking at the ring as if she believes that if she stares at it long enough this will all turn out to have been a nightmare and she’ll wake up.
My stomach twists, painful and sharp. I should have grabbed something to eat before rushing down here. Except if I had, I would have thrown it up by now. I knew she wouldn’t be happy about this. I knew it was a colossal mistake, but it still sucks to see her shut down over the prospect of marrying me. The look on her face, the absolute shock and horror, well it’s enough to crush any guy’s ego under the pointy-toed shoes she loves to wear.
“Hey Spags.” Tyler Gage pokes the rookie in the shoulder. “Didn’t we see her and Cap buying rings at that wedding chapel?”
Spaeglin gives the defenseman a look that has Gage swallowing down his smile.
Fuck. I’d forgotten that. I’d also forgotten they’re both too young to drink and while that doesn’t stop most players, especially on the road, I was pretty sure tweedle-dee-one and tweedle-dee-two were both sober when they saw us last night. A responsible choice I’d praise both for on any other morning. This time I wish they’d been drunk enough to not know their teammates from a herd of elephants.
“What were you guys doing at a wedding chapel?” Pelletier elbows Spags in the ribs, oblivious to the preternatural calm that has descended over the group.
“We’re madly in love and saw our chance,” Gage says as the tips of Pelé’s ears turn pink.
“He wanted to see Elvis.” Spags says, “And I wanted to offer my services—”
“Yeah, you did.” The statement drips with innuendo as some of the team laughs.
Of course, I’ve lost every ounce of control and this is now a spectacle. Someone is probably filming the descent into madness. We’re going to end up on TMZ. At least Noris, and the rest of the coaching staff, have stepped out to locate the bus and aren’t witnessing this unfolding horror.
“Hey.” Spags turns to find the source of the heckling. “I offered my services as a witness to true love. It’s not my fault you—”
“Enough.” Robbie’s voice cuts through the chatter like a hot knife through butter. “Get your things and get on the bus. Everyone. Now.”
The guys move in degrees, grabbing an overnight bag, sliding into new conversations, filing towards the hotel entrance. I can see the charter bus sitting in front of the revolving glass. Robbie leans in as he grabs his duffle, mine, and reaches out a hand for Tristan’s suitcase. She doesn’t even notice as he wheels it to his side. I’m not sure she’s moved at all.
“I can buy you guys about two minutes here,” he tells me, “But you know how Coach is about leaving on time, and we’re already behind schedule.”
I nod. I’ll take whatever time I can grab, and then I’ll follow my pretty kitty cat right onto the bus, plant myself in the seat next to her, and we can talk this out.
“About last night. What I said about Vera…” I meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. It was uncalled for.“
Robbie shakes his head. “It’s fine. I poked an open wound. Don’t waste your time worrying about me.”
He’s halfway to the door, following the stream of players, before I look back at Tristan. She’d dropped her hand now, her fingers curled into a fist as though she’s trying to keep the ring on. Or maybe mangle her own fingers. I turn so my body can fully face her, use my size to block out the image of the bus and the team.
“Hey,” it’s not what I meant to start off with, and the way she flinches makes my heart clench in my chest. That can’t be a good sign. Maybe I need to schedule a check-up with my physician.
“Tristan,” I start over. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” Although my statement was more honest before the team descended on us like vultures. “Actually—”
“Not. As. Bad. As. It. Looks.” A hollow laugh as she turns her body to face me. My nerves are singing at both her acknowledgment and the proximity. Buzzing, like the time I heard someone play Greensleeves on the edges of thick, crystal water goblets. “Waking up in Vegas with surprise jewelry. Not as bad as it looks? On a work trip? The entire team knows. I’m going to lose my job. But you’re right, it’s not as bad as it looks. At least I woke up with my panties still on.”
Heat burns through me so fast it’s like a wildfire spinning out of control. Hurt and shame at the jab, combined with a dose of arousal at the memory of how she ended up in just underwear. How I did.
“Wait a minute,” I say. My hand reaches for her, without my conscious thought. I pull it back.
