“Stop! Stop! Stop!”
I laugh along with her and still my hand, stealing one more kiss. “I love you so much.”
She bites down on her smile, peering up at me with doe eyes. “I love you too.”
“I think that’s a great idea though, seriously.” I beam. “And then when we go back, we can just get a place together.”
“Whoa. Says who?” she teases, her eyes twinkling.
I scoff. “Good luck stopping me. Kyle and I arebestfriends. And you’ve lost your mind if you think I’m ever sleeping apart from you again.”
Rolling her eyes, she leans into my arm, now draped over her shoulders. “Maybe I should make you wait and earn another Cup first.”
I gasp. “How dare you, you little brat?! That’s a horrible idea.”
Reaching up, she interlocks her left hand with mine. “I don’t know. Making you wait to be with me last time seemed to pay off.”
“And nearly killed me,” I murmur.
Tipping her head back to look up at me, she’s flushed and giddy. “You survived.”
“Because I had you.” I lean down and kiss her forehead.
EPILOGUE: SHAY
FOUR MONTHS LATER
Matt’s in the net tonight, and we’re playing the Washington Wild for the first time since the finals last season. The nerves are going to eat me alive. He’s been playing great, but it’s still a tied game with only two minutes left.
Our guys are gassed with nothing left to give as they change out with the next line and defensive pair. Thankfully, Matt stops the Wild’s next scoring attempt, and we’re flying off in the other direction, Luca Bradford’s line taking control of the game.
Luca and Isaac, who have become quite a dynamic duo, break into the zone with ease. Javier’s right behind them, catching Luca’s quick pass. He dishes it to Isaac, and in one smooth motion, he blindly kicks the puck back over to Luca, who swings through from an impossible angle. But not too impossible because with forty-two seconds left, we score.
The guys are fired up as the arena roars in approval, and they skate past our bench, bumping gloves with the rest of the players.
The game resets at center ice, and Reed easily wins the face-off. His stats for face-offs so far this season have been incredible.
Alec takes control, guiding the game across the blue line toward the Wild’s goalie. He weaves around defenders like it’sa piece of cake, sliding right into the crease. Quickly, he fakes a shot before dropping the puck back to Cam. The goalie falls for Alec’s trick hard and is still trying to recover by the time Cam scores.
The game ends ten seconds later with us beating the Wild by two.
“Hell yeah!” I cheer, clapping my hands proudly, watching the guys celebrate and skate out to Matt, bumping their helmets against his, one by one.
The ice and I have gotten back together over the last few months, a big part because of Matt patiently helping me face my fears. Unsurprisingly, when the adrenaline of a Stanley Cup win isn’t coursing through me, my body reacts entirely differently.
But Matt was there, as were his friends, every step of the way, until the fear gradually transitioned to excitement. It was like I reconnected with an old friend, one I had missed dearly. And when I put those skates back on for the first time, I cried endlessly, feeling like I finally got a piece of myself back that had been gone for a long time.
Andy is chuckling beside me, shaking his head in disbelief. “God, I’m so damn proud of you, Shay.”
“What?” I turn to him, taken by surprise. “What do you mean?”
He studies me intently. “You are so incredible, and I’m glad I made you take this job.”
“Okay,” I scoff. “You didn’tmakeme.”
“Shut up, you argumentative brat.” He bursts out laughing before playfully shoving me to the side.
“Hey!” Matt shouts, and I find the biggest smile on his face as he steps into the bench. “That’s my wife you’re talking to.”
