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“You’ve got yourself a deal.”
“Okay, Superstar,” she says, unwinding her legs from my waist. “I’ll see you when you’re done.”
I give her a long, lingering kiss and send her on her way.
Best. Day. Ever.
Two hours later, we finish up in the press conference when Coach Harris pulls Tank and me aside. “Follow me, boys,” he tells us in a tone that suggests we shut up and do what we’re told.
We follow him down a hallway and into an empty meeting room. He motions for us to take a seat, which is exactly what we do. “What’s up, Coach?” Tank asks.
“You’ll see,” he says with pride in his eyes. “Just don’t sign anything straight away. You’ve got three of these meetings tonight,” he casually mentions as the door opens and two men in suits walk in. One of them is the owner of the Chicago Raiders that Tank and I met a few months ago.
“Gentlemen,” he starts as he takes a seat before us. “You did an amazing job tonight.”
“Thanks,” we say in unison.
“I know you must be tired, so, let’s cut right to the chase. We want to offer you each a four-year contract,” he starts as he slides a pack of official looking papers in front of us. We both grab one and ask a string of questions as we flip through the pages. After another ten minutes, they get up and make way for the scouts from Colorado, followed by the men from LA, each offering us four-year contracts.
They make their exit, leaving us with more questions than when we started, and I look over at Tank and Coach. “Fuck,” I say, breaking into a wide grin.
“I knew you boys could do it,” Coach says with pride. “The fucking NHL.”
Tank’s grin nearly rips his face in half. “Did you see how many zeros followed that dollar sign?” he laughs, running a hand through his hair.
“Sure did, man,” I say. “Now, let’s get out of here. I promised my woman a night out.”
Chapter 28
Danielle
SophieandIarefinishing off another glass of champagne when my phone rings loudly throughout the hotel room. I grab it off the counter and look down to find Miller’s name on my caller ID.
“Hi,” I grin.
“Hi, to you too. We’re coming up,” he says, sounding extremely happy. It makes me wonder if he’s started drinking already. “Are you in our room or Sophie’s?”
“Sophie’s.”
“Okay, see you in a bit,” he says before ending the call.
By the time I’ve finished refilling our glasses and tell Sophie that the boys are back, they’re pushing through the door.
“There you are,” I grin as I sashay over to him. “Where the hell have you been all my life?”
“Waiting for you,” he murmurs in my ear as he tosses a stack of papers on the desk by the door then loops his arms around me and lifts me off my feet, giving me a tight squeeze. I let out a girly squeal and demand he puts me down, which of course, he doesn’t.
Sophie rushes out of the bathroom and wobbles slightly on her heels as she throws herself into Tank’s arms and instantly latches her lips onto his.
“How much have you been drinking?” Miller asks, clearly having seen Sophie’s wobble.
I grin up at him. “We just finished off the bottle.”
“Have you eaten?” he asks with a questioning eyebrow.
“Nope.”
“Alright. How about we take you out for dinner? We can tell you everything that happened tonight and then we can party,” he grins.
