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On the huge TV, we watch the team rushing out on the ice. Katleen must already be at the arena if she doesn’t want to miss the face-off.

I’ve been on the edge of my seat during previous games. But the nervousness that has me firmly in its grip today is something new for me.

This championship is Evan’s big dream.

And I want nothing more than for his dreams to come true.

Carly puts her arm around my shoulder and rests her head against me. “What’s going to happen tonight?”

“They’ll win, and Evan will be back from his celebration in two days.” I grin at her. “That wasn’t the case just under a week ago after they won the Conference Cup, but I’m assuming they’ll make up for it tonight.”

“I never would have thought I’d be sitting here with you guys on a Monarchs player’s couch watching the Cup Final. Never. Not in this universe.” Ricky chuckles to himself.

“Same.” Carly and I chime in.

“And this tension. Why do I feel the need to get out on the ice myself?” Carly takes a big sip of champagne and promptly chokes on it.

“How’s work, by the way?” I ask Ricky.

He rolls his eyes, and Carly groans.

“Stop it. Simon has become unbearable. He thought he could dump all your work on me, but of course that’s not going to happen. Since we’ve always worked closely together, I’m up to speed on most things. He has to train everyone else, and since that doesn’t happen overnight, he has to do it himself. He’s not happy, I’ll tell you that.”

“The clients aren’t so easy to brush off either. They want to know where you are. Some of them only trust you. Simon imagines it’s as simple as me calming down everyone with half-truths.” Ricky takes a sip from his glass and closes his eyes with relish.

Carly nudges me gently. “And what about you? What are your plans?”

“Phhh.” I exhale slowly. “Good question. Waiting for Grady to have a spot on the team for me isn’t going to get me anywhere. I have to apply somewhere, but I’m afraid Simon’s already told everyone why I left. The question is whether anyone will still take me.”

“Shit. That could be,” Carly mutters. “You don’t want to go back to Simon? I mean, was the termination even legal?”

I wave it off. “Oh, come on, forget it. I kind of understand him. I can say a hundred times that things are different between Evan and me, but he’s right in a way. Even though I think his methods and decisions are morally much worse, I’d probably come out on the losing end. Because whitewashing rapists online is less damaging to business than falling in love with a client.”

Ricky puts his arm around my shoulder and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Unbelievable.”

“Anyway, first I have to get rid of this bandage. But I’ve been thinking about whether I want to be dependent on the decisions of some guy named Simon or Derek again. I’d much rather decide for myself who I want to work with.”

“Valentina would help you get your own business off the ground through word of mouth,” Carly says excitedly.

“Yeah,” I say, drawing out the word. “I’m not entirely sure yet. Anyway, I can’t keep lying here on Evan’s couch forever. I have to decide what to do about my apartment. I . . . ”

“You need to take a breather,” Ricky interrupts me. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with letting yourself be pampered once in a while. You’ve earned this break, right?”

Maybe. The accident has forced me to take a serious look at my life. What Valentina said, that she doesn’t want to be part of this media frenzy anymore, gives me pause. Even though she and Evan insist they aren’t talking about me, we all know I’m contributing to it.

Evan is introduced on the screen, and his stats are discussed. A broad smile spreads across my face. I can’t help it. My pride is so unfounded and yet so uncontrollable that I just have to grin blankly to myself.

Clips from other games are shown. Fights, injuries—and I feel sick. My grin fades. In the video clips, you can see the crowd cheering. Pure entertainment. When you know the people on the ice personally, it’s not funny anymore. I wonder what Katleen and Valentina are thinking right now?

Evan appears on screen. The determination on his face hits me right in the gut. Blake appears. Even grimmer.

“Shit, they look like Vikings about to raid an English village,” Carly remarks, fascinated.

We laugh, but the tension lingers between us for the rest of the evening.

After sixty minutes, the score is tied and they go into sudden death. My cuticles aren’t exactly thanking me for this. It’s been years since I’ve bitten my nails, and I’m not about to start now.

Evan stands facing the other team’s center, bent over low, ready for a face-off.