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“I had an amazing time,” I promise, kissing him again before he straightens.
“Take good care of Crew,” he tells me.
I smile, even though my heart squeezes remembering how Crew looked lying on the ice, not moving. “I will.”
“And Nathan. He’s not really the nurse-maid type.” Michael finally gives me a half-smile.
I return it. “It’s only been a few hours.” Michael told me that he’d gotten a report from the team’s medical staff and they didn’t even take Crew to the hospital and that he’d been released home.
“A few hours of Nathan and Crew being home together with Crew needing medical supervision.” Michael pauses. “From Nathan. His girlfriend’s boyfriend. And his boss.”
I actually feel myself giggle softly. “Yeah, maybe I’d better hurry.”
“Are you sure you can get my bag too?” Michael asks, frowning a little. “I can go down with you.”
“You don’t have time. I can handle it.” Michael is continuing his travel with only his carry-on. I’m taking his suitcase with his work clothes back to our new house with me. “Let me do this for you.”
Michael doesn’t let me do things for him very often. It feels like the least I can do.
He gives me a soft kiss. “Thank you.”
I kiss him back, pouring my love into it. When I pull back, I squeeze his forearms.
“Text me as soon as you get there. Give your family a hug from me.”
“I will.”
Then he heads off in one direction, and I dash off in the other.
CHAPTER 12
Crew
“Canyou just put that on the top shelf in the closet?” I ask.
“I am only unpacking this one box, and it’s only because it’s in the fucking way,” Nathan says. “Do not think I’m going to do anything more.”
“Yeah, I feel really bad about not being able to help unpack anymore,” I say in a sweet tone that is completely fake. And I know Nathan knows it. He probably kind of wants to punch me but he won’t because of my concussion.
“I swear you got hurt on purpose just to avoid the rest of the unpacking,” Nathan bitches.
“Hey,” I say. “Don’t joke about that. I would never fuck around with hockey.” I’m not kidding about that and I need Nathan to know that. Yes, because he’s the team owner, but also…fuck, I want the guy to respect me.
That’s annoying.
But true.
Nathan turns to face me. He’s frowning. “I know, McNeill. I never question your dedication to the game or the team.”
“Okay.” I blow out a breath. This injury is really pissing me off. I always want to be playing but this point in the season is crucial. “Good.”
“You’re a hell of a player and…I know people tell you that all the time. I know you’ve heard it since you were a kid. I know you know that, but—” Nathan clears his throat. “You’re truly going to be one that people talk about when they talk about hockey history. You could have gone anywhere. I’m very glad you chose the Racketeers. Not just because of what you do on the ice, but because you’re a great representative of the team. I know we’ve got a very unconventional situation between us, and I’m glad you’re here for lots of reasons outside of hockey, but I don’t forget for one day what you bring to hockey in Chicago. To my team.”
I blink at him. I don’t know what to say. That is exactly the kind of thing I’ve always wanted to hear from an owner. And honestly, getting it from Nathan is…huge. The guy doesn’t share his feelings often or easily.
And he’d definitely deny saying this if I ever tell anyone.
“Thanks, Nathan,” I say. I never call him Nathan. “I’m really pissed I’m on the sidelines now. I really want the Cup. I’ve always wanted it, of course. But now, this year, this team…I want it more. And yes, because you and I are friends now, it means even more. But I swear I’d be playing this hard even if Dani had never come along and we’d never started this…thing.”
