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“I will, sir,” Liam says, his back straight and his chest puffed out at attention.
“I mean it, son. You might be taller than me, and you might think I’m past my prime, but if you hurt my little girl, you won’t be fit for a career that makes use of your limbs once I’m through with you. You hear me?”
I roll my eyes at my dad’s ridiculous overprotectiveness, but when I look to Liam, it’s clear he’s not taking it as a joke. His eyes are locked with my dad’s, his expression utterly serious.
“I understand, sir,” he answers.
My dad nods. “Good.”
With that, they shake hands.
“It took me a while to come to my senses,” my dad says. He walks back next to Megan. “It was one thing to say that I was right and my daughter and one of my players were wrong. Then Megan here tried to talk sense into me, but my thick skull didn’t quite let it sink it. At that point, it was still only three against one. But when my whole damn starting line-up was willing to put their futures on the line, I couldn’t convince myself I was right anymore.”
“Come on, Ryan,” Megan says, putting her hand on my dad’s shoulder. “Let’s get out of their hair.” She throws me a smile and a wink.
My dad wraps me up in a hug and plants a kiss on my forehead. “Love you, Zoey.”
“Love you, too, Dad.”
When they leave us, I yelp as Liam sneaks up behind me and dips down to lift me up in his arms, rendering me weightless. As he walks us towards the exit, I rest my palm against his cheek, losing myself in his emerald eyes.
“Your place or mine?” I ask.
“I don’t give a damn where we go,” Liam says, “as long as we’re together.”
I can sense deep in my bones that he’s telling the truth. And not just for tonight—but for all time.
“Hmm,” I muse. “We should still figure it out, so we don’t end up sleeping in the street.”
He wiggles his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t mind checking public sex off the list tonight.”
I snort and jab him in the chest. “That isnoton any list of mine.”
He laughs, the vibration soothing me in his arms. “Have I told you I love you lately?”
I feel my cheeks grow pulp and rosy. “Not recently enough.”
“Then let me fix that. I love you.”
He presses his lips to mine, and I feel secure not only in his arms, but in the knowledge that however many kisses lie in my future, they’ll always be from the same lips.
EPILOGUE
LIAM
Iglance up at the clock. The referee stands ready to drop the puck as Tristan readies square off against Portland’s left-winger. We just scored a goal to bring this 4-4.
Ninety seconds left. A minute and a half.
Whether either we or Portland take care of this over the next ninety seconds, or whether we go into sudden-death overtime, the next team who scores a goal walks out of this arena as Frozen Four champions.
I curl my fingers around my stick, adrenaline pumping through my veins. The ref holds the puck over the center of the face-off spot … and then he drops it.
Shit. Portland manages to gain possession.
It’s a tooth and nail fight at our side of the rink as the seconds tick away from the clock. How is it possible for time to feel like it’s flying by in the blink of an eye, and for each second to feel like an eternity, at the same time?
Then, Walsh steals the puck from their center. My killer instinct turns on, and I pump my legs, my blade slicing up the rink to Portland’s goal.
