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“Jealous? I’ll let you borrow it.” Crew plucks it off his head and tries to put it on Nathan, who bats him away.
Before they can have one of their disagreements that aren’t really disagreements so much as their way of showing affection, they’re interrupted.
“Aren’t you Crew McNeill?” a man pushing a cart along the hallway asks, stopping and giving him a grin.
“Yes, I am,” Crew says, holding his hand out. “Pleasure to meet you, man.”
“Holy shit, this is crazy,” the guy says, shaking his hand. “I’m a huge Racketeers fan. Are you ready for Charlotte tonight? Their goalie is on fire.”
Crew gives him a cocky shrug. “But so am I.”
The guy laughs. “Damn. I’m Dave. It’s so cool to meet you. Can I get a selfie with you?”
“Absolutely, get over here. Santa hat or no Santa hat?”
“One hundred percent the hat.”
“See?” Crew tells Nathan, who snorts.
“I’ll take the pic,” I offer, holding my hand out for Dave’s phone. It still startles me, but I’m getting used to random people approaching Crew wanting an autograph or a selfie. They’re always excited, and they walk away even more so because Crew loves this aspect of his chosen career. He’s amazing at making fans feel special and appreciated.
“This is my girlfriend, Dani,” Crew tells Dave. “And Nathan Armstrong, the owner of the Racketeers, and Dr. Michael Hughes, the team physician.”
Dave’s eyes widen. “Holy shit,” he repeats. He shoves his phone at me. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve seen you on social media at games and… stuff.”
By stuff, I’m assuming he’s meant the various supportive and a few disapproving comments online about my relationship with the guys. Occasionally, there have been some hateful remarks, but most people seem to eat up our hockey romance.
“Don’t believe everything you read online,” Nathan says.
Dave laughs nervously. “No shit.”
“Get in there,” I tell him, giving him a smile. “And thank you for all the hard work you do here at the nursing facility. We’re so appreciative of the care all the residents receive.”
“Oh, I’m just a janitor,” he said with a shrug.
“Everyone’s job here is important. This is home for these residents, and you have a hand in making it clean and comfortable for them.”
“Thanks,” Dave says, giving me a nod and a smile.
“Okay, say Merry Christmas,” I tell him, and I gesture for him and Crew to get closer. Crew throws his arm around Dave’s shoulders and gives a smile. “One, two, three—
“Merry Christmas,” they both say dutifully.
“Can I get one with all of you guys?” Dave asks. “Just really quick, I promise.”
“Sure,” Michael says.
“Even me?” I ask, a little surprised.
“Hell, yes,” Dave nods. “You’re the most famous girlfriend in hockey. My sister talks about how lucky you are all the time.”
That makes my cheeks heat. I guess I knew that, but hearing it out loud is odd. I don’t dislike it. Quite the opposite. “Well. Okay. Of course.”
Dave jogs off to grab a nurse, who dutifully comes over to take our picture with him.
Finally, we’re on our way again, and we enter Stanford’s room. Val, Stanford’s former secretary, and Nathan’s surrogate family, is already there. Her eyebrows shoot up when she sees all of us, but she’s clearly pleased as she smiles and waves as our entourage files in.
Michael is carrying a box from Books and Buns containing the chocolate chip cookies I know from past visits Stanford loves. Crew has managed to put his skates in a gift bag we picked up at a drug store on the way, and I have a poinsettia.
