Page 81

We lost the cup this year, but that’s okay. I won a lot more this season. I’ve got the girl of my dreams on my arm, a team I’m proud of, and I still have fucking a job. Riddle me that. Don’t ask me how. If you do ask anyway, the answer is Lemmy. The answer is, and will always be, Lemmy.

The charges are charges, and there isn’t any escaping them.

I did the crime, so I’ll pay the fines and do my community service with a smile.

That was the result, by the way. I had fines and medical bills to pay and a shit-ton of community service to do.

I also got my ass back into therapy and anger management, but that was a personal choice.

I’ll stop punching people. I promise. I’m working on it.

Anger management classes are fine, but it’s the therapy that has really helped me.

I go weekly and I’m learning how to stop these rage fits before they happen.

Sometimes, my palms still itch, and often, I still lose it on the ice—but that’s my job.

My therapist doesn’t like that I can’t stop that part of being a defenseman, but we’re working on it. I’ll keep working on it. Forever .

I made a promise. To her. That I’ll work on this every day.

I wind my hand around the back of her neck, right under that pretty updo she’s wearing for the gala tonight. That red hair looks remarkable when it’s pulled back from that face, letting me see every detail of her.

Arden turns to look at me, a smile on those pouty, cherry lips.

I’ll keep every promise I make to this woman.

I brush my thumb against the nape of her neck, cherishing the way her eyes flutter at the feeling.

Our friends are surrounding us, all dressed to the nines, but she’s the most perfect woman in this room.

In this world. I might be trying to stop hitting people, but in a twisted way, I’m glad I am— or was—the guy who hits people.

It brought her into my life, and now she’s become the whole meaning of it.

We take our seats at our table—number three—and Sweets reaches across the tablecloth, that giant rock glimmering under the light of the chandelier. She places a glass of red wine in front of Arden, who shoots her a grateful smile in return.

“None for me, Sweets?” I ask, leaning forward on my elbows.

Penny glances at me, her long, blonde hair falling in big, voluminous waves down her back. “I only have two hands, and you can get your own. I can’t in good conscience let my friend walk into the lion’s den sober.”

Arden snorts, hurriedly taking a big gulp. I guess Morgan is here with her little minion.

“But you can let me? ”

Sweets shoots me a look. “ She’s my bridesmaid, and the lions tend to leave you alone, anyway.”

Oh, yeah. Penny asked Arden to be a bridesmaid a couple of months ago. They both cried the entire time, so I wasn’t sure what was going on for the first five minutes. If they say that I cried too, they’re lying. I had something in my eye.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Declan says, sliding into his seat. He drops his beer on the table, his hazel eyes meeting mine. He passes me a Jager and Coke, smirk on his mouth. “I’ll always take care of you.”

I break into a grin, taking the drink from him.

I have half a mind to go and give him a little smooch on the cheek, but he’s leaning toward his fiancée before I can truly return the affection.

He slides his hand against her thigh under the table and presses his mouth to her head.

She rolls her eyes at whatever he murmurs in her ear, but melts into him anyway.

I glance at the other names at our table.

Boston, who apparently brought someone this year.

Unsurprisingly, it’s Lemmy. I’m still wondering if something is going on there, but an off-handed comment had him looking at me like he wanted to murder me, and when I asked her, she stared at me for five minutes with this lethal look and never really answered the question.

Who knows?

Saltzy is sitting with us, too. No Caulfield.

Lark and Oscar will complete the table. It should be a good night, so long as those lions that Penny mentioned mind their own business.

You want to know how I know? Because I have a sexy redhead by my side and Reno Rossi is nowhere near our fucking table.

It’s nice to do something like this at the end of the season. All together.

“When do Serena and Anya come in?” Penny asks, leaning her chin on the heel of her hand.

Arden lights up. Like, lights up completely . My heart warms at that look, how happy she is that she’s going to have her sisters here. How excited. What a damn change in her.

“Two days. I can’t wait for you to meet them. ”

“Avery will be in town, too,” Penny says with a grin. “We can get into some serious trouble.”

“Easy,” Dec murmurs.

“Tyler coming down too, then?” I ask.

“No, he’s got to work,” Declan says with a long sigh. He leans back in his seat, lifting his beer. “Which means I have to tackle the twins alone.”

“Lucky you.” Arden grins. She’s right. They’re terrors together, but there is something special about Penny and Avery’s friendship that is remarkably fun to witness, especially at Declan’s expense.

“Hopefully, I survive.”

“You’ll have Wy and Forker,” Penny says, nudging him with her shoulder. “At the very worst, all you’ll have is a headache.”

Dec scoffs.

Saltzy slides into his chair, wearing a navy, velvet suit that looks so dapper on him, it makes me want to get one myself. I could pull it off. Colours look incredible on me. Don’t act like you haven’t noticed. I’m TikTok’s dream boy for a reason.

Saltzy’s mullet is perfectly styled, red beard trimmed neatly on his jaw. He undoes the button on his suit jacket and sits.

His eyes slide to Arden, who immediately looks away and takes a drink. I cock a brow, but she avoids that too.

“Cap.” Dec nods.

“Hey, boys,” he says with a sigh, grabbing his whiskey on the rocks. He lets out a long breath. “I can’t wait for this to be over.”

“Where’s Caulfield?” I ask.

A stillness goes over the table. I’m not sure why, but I scan everyone’s faces anyway. Are we still not talking about this? It’s only us here, right now. Four people who have spent more than enough time with them to know what’s actually going on .

Declan swallows, but Saltzy answers without pause. He swirls his whiskey in his glass.

“Eh,” he says with a shrug. “He’s stayed home. I don’t think either of us is ready for events like this yet, if I’m honest. Personal, private ones, fine. Shit this public? He doesn’t want the fanfare.”

He doesn’t want it. I try to suppress my grin.

Cap is in love. Big time. He isn’t hiding Wyatt, he’s respecting that he wants a private life.

They might have just topped Lowesy and Sweets as my favourite couple in this friend group.

Mostly because of Saltzy’s dad, though. That’s, like, an automatic extra hundred points.

“He’d come if you really wanted him to,” Penny tells him gently.

Saltzy glances at her, and for a stoic dickhead, he softens a bit around Sweets. I swear, most of us do. It’s like he can see her through Wyatt’s eyes when he looks at her.

“I know, Pen,” Saltzy says. “But I think this is a life people should have a say in. Not everyone wants hundreds of videos made about them, and countless opinions about their lives and their appearance swirling around on the internet.”

Declan nods, as if understanding. So, I do, too.

Saltzy’s head snaps toward me, green eyes narrowing. “The fuck are you nodding for? You repost shirtless videos of yourself to stupid songs three times a week.”

Arden chokes on her drink, breaking into laughter.

That is not true. Only if they’re done well. I respect the talent it takes to make thirst traps and get that many views. I know I’m pretty, so I do half of the work for them, but I can give my fans a bit of appreciation by applauding the ones that make me look particularly good.

“It’s like once a week,” I grumble, shooting him a look. “ And I’m not embarrassed by that. I give the fans what they want. You don’t give them anything.”

“I’m mysterious,” he counters, and this time, I choke.

Cap making a joke? Unheard of.

“Mysterious, or do you just have the personality of a wet mop?” Boston mutters, falling into his seat next to me.

“ This is mysterious,” I say, gripping Boston by the suit jacket and tugging him toward me. He winces, shoving my hands off, but I point right to his face and look at Saltzy. “He’s our token mystery man. You’re our token robot. There’s a difference.”

Saltzy stares at me. “Robot?”

I nod, but catch a look from across the table that has me shutting my mouth. Declan’s eyes are wide, his hand is at his throat, telling me to shut the hell up while I am ahead. I snap my mouth shut and look back at Saltzy, who is studying me with a robotic expression.

I mean, my point just makes itself.

“Hm,” he says, leaning back in his seat. Those green eyes burn into my face. “I’ll remember that one, Fork.”

I wince, looking at Arden, who is hiding her discomfort behind her hand. She and Penny lock eyes, and Sweets nods toward the bar. They silently excuse themselves, despite the fact that the drinks in their hands are still half-full. Traitors.

Whatever I just started by calling Saltzy a robot was felt throughout the table. I’m not sure why that is being considered the insult of the century. That was tame!

“He didn’t mean anything by it, Cap,” Boss grumbles, and I get the whiff of his gum as he pops it into his mouth. “I think he’s gotten hit in the head a couple times too many.”

“I don’t get hit,” I interject, glaring at him. “I do the hitting. ”

Boston’s eyes snap to mine. “Dude, will you ever let us get you out of shit, or do you just like rolling around in it?”

Lowesy barks out a laugh, and when I glare his way, he laughs even harder.