Linc picked up the pace – where AJ was bigger, Linc was faster. He pulled away from the burly defensive man. Stopping at the edge of the crease, he smacked his stick again. Finn sailed the puck across the slot. Linc caught it, lined up, and shot.
The scrambling net minder managed to get a toe to the puck, stopping it before it crossed the line, but he couldn’t get back into position fast enough to stop Linc chipping the rebound into the net.
The lamp lit and the crowd thundered. Finn threw himself at Linc, grabbing him in a bear hug. The fans counted down from ten, and the final buzzer sounded.
“Hey, Linc?” Jeremy slowed to a stop a few feet away, shouting to be heard over the roars of the crowd. “She’s at your two o’clock, about a dozen rows up, with that chick who writes for your school paper.”
Both Finn and Linc turned. Molly faced the ice, arms wrapped around someone in gleeful celebration. The woman she hugged wore a Pirates shirt with the number thirteen on the back and Lincoln’s surname, Scott, across her shoulders.
She turned, brushing her dark waves from her smiling face.
“Don’t fuck it up.” Jeremy slapped him on the shoulder. “And good game.” He winked and skated off toward his own team.
He had never before understood when people said they were so happy they could burst, but his entire body vibrated with pure joy.
Cleo.
Their eyes met. He cocked an eyebrow, and with a casual shrug, she twirled in place for him, stopping for a beat with her back facing him and throwing a half smile over her shoulder before turning to face him.
His girl was in the stands, wearing his shirt, and his Pirates were one game from making the play offs. Maybe dreams really did come true.
Chapter 31
Cleo
Cleo held her breath, pausing before she turned to him. The jersey had cost a small fortune, and the merch stand only had one left – a triple XL, which came to her knees. If he rejected her after this, she’d be torn between wanting to burn the damn thing in a backyard bonfire and getting her money back.
The smile that split his face was enough to unwrap the wad of anxiety resting on her chest. She could breathe again. She’d have to apologize for being the top class jerk she’d been, but he was smiling, not flipping her off. She’d take her wins where she could get them.
Five long minutes later, Molly tugged her out of the row of seats. “Text him and tell him we’ll meet him in the bar.”
With trembling hands, Cleo pulled out her phone, but there was already a message from Lincoln waiting for her.
Lincoln: Miss Bennet if this is some torturous joke, my heart can’t take it.
Cleo: No joke, Mr. Darcy.
Lincoln: You wanna be my girl?
Cleo’s face hurt from smiling.
Cleo: I don’t think I ever really stopped. The last week has been hell on earth.
Lincoln: It’s only been a week? Fuck. Let’s never do that again.
Cleo: You’re really going to give me another chance?
Lincoln: Fear makes us do all kinds of dumb shit, Lizzy. I had no intention of letting you go, I just hadn’t figured out how to convince you to stick around yet.
Cleo: Molly’s dragging me to the bar, can we talk when you’re changed?
Lincoln: Just talk?
Heat seared her cheeks. She bumped into someone as she walked.
Molly apologized for her. “Don’t text and walk.” She threaded her arm through Cleo’s and guided her through the bodies leaving the rink. “Ugh. Your face is doing that gooey, loved-up thing again. It’s disgusting.”
Cleo laughed. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
