Page 49

HUNTER

"Sold!"

I say, slamming the gavel against the podium, and the crowd erupts in laughter and applause. Luka shoots a mock glare at the woman in the back of the ballroom who just won him for a dog-walking date. He gives a dramatic bow, and the table full of Hawkeyes players howls like lunatics.

This is my first year MCing the Hawkeyes' annual Date with a Player charity auction, and I’ve been doing it while trying not to draw attention to the ring box in my pocket.

My hands have never sweated this much.

I grip the edge of the podium and force myself to breathe.

One more paddle raise. One more cheesy joke. Then I get to change my entire life.

"All right, folks," I say into the mic, my voice steady even if my pulse isn't. "Before we wrap up the live auctions and head to the ice for the goalie shootouts—I have one more thing to say."

The ballroom quiets.

I scan the crowd until I find her.

Peyton.

Wearing a different dress that she pulled from Abby’s closet for this event, but it looks just as good as the blue gown she wore to this same event one year ago, when I asked her to bet on me.

The second-best decision I’ve ever made in my entire life. And today, I’ll make the first best decision.

"Last year," I begin, voice tightening slightly, "I was just another player on the Hawkeyes who was willing to stand up here with the rest of the guys and bring in funds for an amazing cause. JP and Cammy talked me into signing up for one of the Date a Player spots, and I was happy to do my part. They needed a warm body with a decent smile… They weren’t picky,” I say, glancing around as most everyone gives a lighthearted chuckle, and then my eyes land back on her again. “I was expecting a date with a stranger, candle-lit dinner, maybe drinks, and definitely small talk. But what I got instead is something I wasn’t prepared to find.”

I see Peyton adjust her stance. From standing freely, leaned up against the open bar, stirring her drink, to standing straighter, her eyes glued to me.

I swallow and keep going.

"What I didn't expect was to fall in love with the woman who bid on me." I pause. "What I didn’t expect was her changing my life."

Now, it's dead silent.

Peyton’s eyes widen, lips parting slightly.

I step down from the stage, and I pass by Penelope and Slade’s table, hearing Penelope whisper, not all that quietly, “Oh my God, he’s going to propose!”

But Peyton’s not close enough to hear her, and it wouldn’t matter anyway. The moment I step down those steps, her eyes look like a deer in headlights. She already knows.

"Peyton Collins," I say, crossing the floor toward her, my heart pounding in my chest like I'm back on the ice in overtime. "You mocked me that night. You rolled your eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. But you still raised your hand. You still gave me a shot."

I reach her standing next to the bar, her hand frozen in place.

“You bet on me when I needed it the most. You showed me what family looks like outside of my own. And even when I thought that our story was over, you proved to me how far you're willing to go, and what you’re willing to give up for me. And I want to spend the rest of my life returning that kind of love and devotion.”

I pull out the ring box from the pocket it my slacks. The moment the box is visible, I hear the WAGs table collective sigh and Peyton’s gasp, as she quickly discards her blueberry lemon drop drink on the bar top.

“Hunter…” she whispers, shocked with a ghost of a smile on her lips. Her eyes flick to me and then back to the unopened box.

"Marry me. For real this time. No sticky notes. No fake dating. Just us, and Ma…and our dogs—both real and of the plant variety."

Her hands are shaking when she reaches for me. "Yes," she whispers, the tears in her eyes turning her smile into something I’ll never forget. "Of course I’ll marry you."

She jumps into my arms before I can even get the ring on. I slide my arms around her to catch her, laughing into her neck. She finally pulls back, and the moment I slide the ring on her finger, the room explodes.

Players pound their tables. Penelope throws confetti she found scattered on the table.

Cammy and Kendall are jumping out of their chairs, shrieking and taking photo after photo with their phones.

My mother is clapping, wiping a tear from her eye as she stands next to Coach Murphy who reached out to me months ago and came out to a few of our games.

The rest of the players are applauding and catcalling.

I pull Peyton in and kiss her hard, and for a second, the world just...disappears.

Then I turn to the crowd, with Peyton tucked under my arm.

“Thank you all for coming this evening and being a part of this incredible organization. I know that your donations will be put to good use helping families pay for unexpected expenses during treatment. Something that is near and dear to my heart.”

Cammy walks over and takes the mic to announce that JP and Olsen will be conducting the second annual goalie shoot off and where guests can purchase tickets to take a shot.

And that’s when I spot her.

A woman weaving her way through the crowd. Designer dress. Red lipstick. And a cell phone in her hand.

Peyton sees her a split second before I do.

"Rebecca?"

The media exec offers her a warm smile. "Congratulations, you two. That was a beautiful proposal, Hunter. You clean up well."

I smirk. "Told you I had good timing."

Peyton blinks. "What are you doing here?"

"Hunter called," she says, glancing at me with something close to fondness. "Right after last New Year’s, trying to get your spot back with the network when he found out that you had given it up.”

Peyton looks up at me, her eyebrows pulled together, almost in disbelief. “You did?”

I just shrug. My call hadn’t made a difference then—since the network had already signed a different podcast, so I never bothered to mention it.

“He said I was making the biggest mistake of my career letting you go."

Peyton looks at me, stunned. "I can’t believe you did that."

"I might’ve made a few phone calls when Abby told me that you gave up everything for me. I was hoping to get it back for you." I admit, pulling her in closer.

Rebecca nods. "At the time, there wasn’t much I could do. But a few weeks ago, I landed a huge investor. Someone who believes in a women-led sports media network. And I want you, Peyton, to be the first face of it."

Peyton's jaw drops. "You're serious?"

"Dead serious. The contract is already drawn up. Bigger than the last offer, full creative control, and you can live wherever you want."

Rebecca lifts a brow. "New Jersey. Seattle. Timbuktu. Doesn’t matter. I just want you on the team."

Peyton stares at her, stunned silent.

Then slowly, her eyes drift back to me.

"I won’t be leaving Seattle any time soon," she says, voice thick with emotion. "This is home."

I kiss the top of her head.

Rebecca smiles. “You’ll be receiving the contract by tomorrow morning for you to look over. Of course, I hope you agree to this offer, but I know that you’ve been getting deals since my old network signed the other podcaster—and I know I’m not the only contract on the table."

“Nothing felt like the right fit. And having full control of my voice is what I think my father wanted most.”

“That’s what I’m offering, but take your time and think it over. I hope you pick me… I think we can do some great things together.”

Peyton nods. “Thank you for coming. I’ll look over the contract tomorrow.”

Rebecca glances at me and then back to Peyton. “Oh, trust me. I wouldn't have missed this. After all, with all the pressure I put on you, I like to think I had a little to do with this,” she smiles and then heads back toward the exit.

And I suppose she’s right.

It turns out that Rebecca, the Hawkeyes, New Jersey, Ma, and even Bethany, all played their roles perfectly. How else could the woman who hated me have come to fake date me long enough for us both to see we have a whole life together ahead of us?

And marrying her? That’s going to be the easiest win of my life.

Thank you for reading Bleacher Report!