Page 52 of Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend (Catching Feelings #1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

SEAN

I ’ve already showered and changed, my gear bag slung over my shoulder as I step into Otto’s office with a smile on my face. Not because I know what he’s going to say—I don’t—but because of Kayla.

My wife.

She showed up with a pom pom, foam finger, her face painted half red, half blue, wearing my jersey and the biggest, sexiest, most supportive grin I’ve ever seen.

How could I not smile?

“You look satisfied with your performance,” Otto says.

“I am,” I tell him. “I gave it my all. What you decide to do with that is out of my control.”

Otto clasps his hands in front of his face. “What do you think about Hall?”

Here it is: the big question. Am I worth a roster spot or did I serve a different purpose? Did I simply pad out the drills so they could evaluate someone with a brighter future?

I clear my throat, wishing it didn’t hurt to do so. “I think he’s got what it takes to be big.”

“I agree.”

My lungs clench. But I think about Kayla, about how she chose me. She’s choosing me. Always and forever. If I don’t make the Arsenal, at least I can say I gave it a real shot. I fought for the spot this time.

“Sean, we knew what to expect from you on the first day of camp,” Otto says.

Part of me wants to duck my head, to listen without letting the emotion of being passed over weigh me down. But I can’t do that to myself. I can’t get disappointed at a team for not picking me when I don’t act like I deserve it. So I keep my chin up and look Otto in the eye as he talks.

“Solid, reliable performance, every time. Steady, like a heartbeat.”

I nod.

“That’s what you are, Sean: the heart. You’re not flashy like …

human jazz hands,” he says, and I can’t help but chuckle.

“But the team can’t work without you. You keep everyone going.

You give them the strength to perform their jobs better.

That’s an important job at any level. At elite levels, it’s crucial.

The heart can’t be too proud of its own job to make the other jobs better. Do you understand?”

“No,” I admit. “I’m not sure I do.”

“We brought you here knowing we already wanted you on the team next year. You outperformed our backup goalie in the playoffs. You played like a starter. We’d be fools not to offer you a three-year contract. Fortunately for both of us, we’re not fools. The spot is yours.”

A laugh explodes from my lips, loud and a little shaky. The tightness in my chest feels more like my heart is too big for my body.

“Thank you!” I say. “I accept!”

“You must be wondering why we brought you here at all, given we already planned to extend the contract.”

“I … uh, yeah. You … wait, you already knew?”

Otto chuckles now. “We wanted to see how you’d work with younger players, particularly one who would one day be your replacement.

Maybe it won’t be Hall, but it will be someone, someday.

And personally, I wanted to see if you have what it takes to be my replacement one day.

When your playing days are done, that is. ”

A rush of awe, gratitude, and humility overtakes me. Otto Hanninen is the best goalie coach in the league. I’ve never thought about coaching before, and I don’t want to … yet. I’m not there. But someday?

“I’m honored.”

“Don’t be too honored too soon,” he says, giving me a fatherly grin. “We plan to work you to the bone for as long as you can play.” He reaches a hand out. “Welcome back to the team, Sean.”

I shake it, still in awe that I’m not here to hold someone else’s post anymore.

I’m here because it’s mine.

“Thanks, Otto. It’s great to be back.”

An understatement if there ever was one, but the truth would be embarrassing.

You made the right choice, and I’ll make you glad of it every day.

Yeah, I’ll save that for my wife.

I step out of the tunnel that leads from Otto’s office back into the arena.

My hair’s a little dryer than it was, but it’s still damp from the shower, and the chill from the ice is invigorating.

My duffel bag hangs from my shoulder, but I feel lighter than I have in …

ever, maybe. I didn’t realize until this week how much my doubt—always treating myself like a backup even when no one asked me to—weighed on me all these years.

The arena’s mostly cleared out now, but a dozen or so people still linger in the stands, talking in low voices, their laughter echoing off the empty bleachers.

Lucas and Logan are talking to Kayla’s brothers, while her parents talk to mine.

Scottie’s perched on one of the benches, her phone out as she shows something to Clementine and a few others. And right next to Clementine is a vision in face paint: Kayla.

She’s smiling, chatting easily, but her head is angled toward the tunnel. Like even as she laughs, she’s waiting for the moment I come out.

Waiting for me.

When her eyes flit down and meet mine, she beams so bright, I’m surprised the rink doesn’t melt.

“Sean!” she jumps up and pushes past our friends on her way to the stairs.

A grin stretches across my face. I let the bag slide off my shoulder and take the steps two at a time to meet her halfway. I catch her in my arms when I reach the landing between us.

“I made the team,” I tell her, the words tumbling out in a rush.

She lets out a half-sob of joy, her arms locking around my neck as she laughs and plants kisses all over my cheek. I spin her around once in the air as she laughs.

“Of course you did!” She pulls back just enough to cup my face, her thumbs brushing my jaw. Then she kisses me, quick and fierce.

Around us, the small group of friends and family cheers. Scottie whoops, Lucas hollers, Wes, Hunter, and Gray cheer, and our other friends clap with them.

Fletch is the first person to reach me, and I catch a glimpse of pain behind his smile.

“Happy for you, Sean. Couldn’t happen to a better guy.

” We clasp hands, and for a flash, I imagine what this must be like for him.

Me getting a second chance he’ll never have access to.

Fletch is the kind of guy I wish I could hold the door open for, but that one has closed permanently.

I just wish he could let himself believe that when one door closes …

“You know,” Kayla says, “I told Fletch if he can start smiling a little, I’ll make him the head coach for real.”

I look at my friend. “So you’re already looking for a new job, then, huh?”

Fletch chuckles and shakes his head. “You suck.” He claps my shoulder and then goes back up to his seat. Others are waiting to congratulate me, and I smile and shake hands with our friends and family. I give hugs and high fives.

I’ve been part of a lot of big wins before, but I’m not sure I’ve ever let myself feel it like this or let myself believe that the cheers were actually for me.

I feel it now.

“The rest of the group left to get Chick-fil-A,” Kayla says apologetically when I’ve given out my last hug.

“I told them you’d be the first person Otto talked to because he’d want to give the good news first, but Miss Loretta insisted she couldn’t wait another minute for that mac and cheese.

Between you and me, I think she’s getting it for Sunday’s potluck. ”

I laugh and press my forehead to Kayla’s, letting the noise of the arena wash over me—the laughter, the cheers, the steady hum of belonging.

And then I tune it out, focus on the batting of her eyes, the sound of her breath. “I don’t want to sound rude or ungrateful,” I tell her in a low voice so only she can hear, “but I’m not thinking about Miss Loretta. Or potlucks. Or anything else but you.”

Her pupils dilate so big, her eyes go black. “Scottie, you can arrange for everyone else to get back, right?”

Scottie laughs. “I got it. You two go have fun.”

“What are they doing?” Lucas asks.

“Working on our résumés,” I murmur before claiming Kayla’s mouth.

“I don’t think that means what he thinks that means,” Lucas says, but his voice is already fading into nothingness.

“Come on, Mr. O’Shannan,” Kayla says breathlessly. “You’re driving me home.”