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The crowd got even wilder.
I’d just turned to skate to the bench when…I was hit from behind. I hit the ice hard, the wind knocked out of me.
Rolling over, I realized there was a naked fucking chick on top of me. She was trying to wrap herself around my body like a fucking anaconda. I tried to push her away, but there was boob and butt everywhere, and I was at a loss what to do.
Security rushed in then, dragging the girl away.
“I love you, Lincoln. I love you. Please marry me,” she screamed as they rushed her off the ice.
Ari skated over, barely able to stay up, he was laughing so hard. “Oh my gosh. I’m getting tape of that. That was the best fucking thing ever. Your face when she hit you!” He bent over his knees, his whole body shaking as he howled.
“How did she even get on the ice?” I asked, pushing to my feet. Fuck. That was crazy. The NHL almost never had streakers. The fact that she’d been able to get out here like that.
Impressive and a bit terrifying.
Ari and I skated over to the bench where Coach was freaking out to the officials about what had happened.
“Daniels—get on the bench. You’re going to need a minute to get your head right after…that,” he snapped, not even bothering to suppress his amusement.
I rolled my eyes as guys clamored onto the ice and Ari and I settled onto the bench. I wondered what Monroe had thought of that.
The team pushed hard until the final buzzer sounded…and we’d won.
The noise in the arena was deafening as the crowd erupted in cheers and screams. Streamers and confetti rained down on the ice, creating my favorite kind of spectacle. My teammates were jumping and hugging each other, whooping with excitement. I joined in, grinning from ear to ear, feeling the thrill of victory pulsing through my veins.
Ari practically tackled me as we freaked out.
We were going to the Stanley Cup finals.
It was every guy’s dream, from the moment he stepped on the ice as a kid, that someday he was going to be here. Before Monroe, dreaming of this moment used to be the only thing that got me through.
One more series.
I tried to savor the moment and soak up the atmosphere. The air in the arena crackled with energy, and I was proud to be a part of this city, this organization. The fans were chanting our team's name, and gratitude for their faithfulness surged through me.
As the celebration continued, I missed Monroe desperately. I wanted her to be here with me, to share this moment.
I had to move things along quicker, get us back to where we were before. Immediately.
Because there was no way I was going to play in the finals without Monroe in those stands.
* * *
Monroe
The elevator dinged as it opened and I pretended to read the book I had in my hands. It was annoying I couldn’t even read a romance novel anymore without thinking of him.
Before Lincoln had turned into the psycho of the century, none of the heroes in these books were anything compared to him.
Now I was comparing him to the villains too…and still having the same problem.
I’d always been a sucker for the irredeemable sinners.
And now it appeared…I had one of my own.
He materialized in the doorway, his gaze…relieved, with that same hungry, awestruck edge he’d had from the beginning, like he couldn’t believe I was still there.
“Hey, dream girl,” he murmured, leaning against the wall.
