Page 14

2 months later

I roll up the sleeves on my Toronto Thunder jersey, emblazoned with Wolf’s last name and number. It’s warm in the arena tonight as the Thunder play a crucial game, and the crowd is intense. Rowdy and roiled up, with the arena packed to the gills. I’m not sitting in my usual box seat with Sadie and Lilah tonight because Mike is in town. He likes to sit in the crowd, be part of the action. So, he’s sitting next to me, sipping a beer, and wearing a Hartley jersey of his own.

It’s a nice show of support and goodwill, given that they’re going to be brothers in law in just a few months.

I glance down at the sparkly diamond ring on my finger, my mind flashing back to when Wolf proposed two weeks ago. It was on the final day of my internship at the ballet school, after he came to our final performance, brought me the biggest bouquet of roses I’ve ever seen in my life, and took out me out for a fancy dinner with oysters and champagne. And then, later that night as we snuggled in bed—naked, of course—he’d pulled out the ring, slipped it on my finger and asked me what I thought about getting married this summer.

I’d told him I thought it sounded absolutely perfect.

The next day, I got an email from the ballet school inviting me to audition for a permanent position.

Which I got, thanks to Wolf. Not that he helped me with the actual dancing, but I’m a different person after falling in love with him. I’m more confident. More centered. More sure of who I am, and what I can accomplish. I’ve kept my word and never so much as thought of myself as a nothing girl again. How could I when I see the way a man like Wolf looks at me?

This time when Mike came to visit, he took a Uhaul instead of a red-eye flight in order to bring all of my things to Toronto, because I get to stay. Wolf doesn’t need to look for a trade, and I get to live out my dream.

“Oh, come on! That was offside!” Mike shouts, his voice mingling with the jeers of the crowd. The opposing team rushes into Toronto’s end, but Wolf is there, and he body checks the player with the puck hard enough to rattle the boards. He leaves the player sprawled on the ice, smoothly steals the puck and passes it back to Kincaid, who soars up the ice and into the other team’s end. The Thunder score, sending the arena into a cacophony of sirens and lights and screaming fans. “Thunderstruck” blares through the arena’s sound system, barely audible over the cheers. On the ice, the players celebrate, slapping each other on the back, sticks clapping on the ice.

Mike and I high five and settle back into our seats as the goal is announced—Kincaid’s thirtieth of the season—and more cheering erupts around us. Wolf gets an assist on the play, and I scream loudest of all when his name is announced.

I’m so proud of him. Of how hard he works, of his dedication to the game. Just like our relationship has given me the confidence to pursue my wildest dreams, it’s reignited his passion for the game. We inspire each other. We cheer each other on. He’s my biggest fan, and I’m his.

I can’t get over the fact that this is my life now. Just a few months ago, I was shy, inexperienced, scared of the city, feeling like I didn’t belong in Wolf’s world. And now, here I am—living in Toronto, planning my wedding to the most amazing man, and dancing with the National Ballet. And you know what? I’m exactly where I belong.

Mike grins at me as he takes a sip of his beer. “Your man is killing it out there tonight,” he says, and I can’t help the wide smile that takes over my face at his words. Two months ago, it felt almost impossible that Mike would get to this level of acceptance regarding our relationship. I mean, he punched Wolf right in the freaking face, for crying out loud. But he’s come to accept that we’re together now, and I couldn’t be more grateful.

When I called my parents to tell them I was dating Wolf, they were…well, shocked is probably the right word. They were hesitant about the age difference between us and how fast we were moving, but once they flew out and saw Wolf and I together, they realized that some things are just meant to be.

The game continues, and I can’t take my eyes off of Wolf, as usual. His intensity, his athleticism, the power in everything he does—it makes me ache between my legs. It makes me want to take him home, strip him naked and have my way with him.

Or maybe tonight, I’ll let him have his way with me. I’ll reward him for playing so well by letting him fuck my mouth and come all over my breasts. Or maybe I’ll ride him until we’re both sweaty and panting, not stopping until our bodies sated.

Or maybe I’ll dance for him. He built a studio for me in our penthouse (and it really is ours—he insisted on putting my name on the deed last week), and I’ve been thinking about putting on a private show for my sexy, growly, possessive fiancé. I could start off in a tutu and bodysuit, my pointe shoes laced up. Or maybe I’ll just start off in the pointe shoes and nothing else.

I doubt I’ll get much dancing done if I do that in front of Wolf.

I grin, my cheeks heating as I think about it, and I’m jostled back to the present by Mike’s elbow. “It’s intermission. I’m going to grab another beer. You want anything?”

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks, though.” I watch as Wolf heads off the ice with his team, his gray eyes flashing as they catch mine. Heat surges through me, and I wriggle slightly in my seat.

I’m liking this idea I have for tomorrow. I’ll give him a performance he’ll never forget.

“I love you,” he mouths, winking at me. I smile as a blush spreads across my face, heat creeping down my neck and into the collar of my Hartley jersey.

“I love you,” I mouth back, and I know I’m going to be saying those words to him for the rest of my life.

Because he’s mine, and I’m his, and nothing is ever going to change that.

Hello, amazing, wonderful reader! Thank you so much for reading Wolf and Emily’s story.