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“Am I robotic?” Saltzy asks the table, his fingers tapping his glass. I’d say he looks concerned, but his face looks like it usually does. His jaw is just a bit tighter. “Does the whole team think that about me?”
The three of us exchange a glance. Maybe I do prefer to just roll around in shit, because what the hell did I cause here? I didn’t intend for that to offend him. He knows we think he’s emotionless as all hell. He is.
“It was just a joke, Cap,” I say, trying to mend this before it gets worse. “Like how people say I’m unhinged.”
“You are unhinged,” he points out.
Well, fuck.
“Right,” I say, nodding stiffly. I glance around the table, looking for help.
“There’s nothing wrong with how you come off to the team, Saltzy.”
Thank you, Declan Lowes.
“Hell, half the team is too scared to even approach me,” Boston says gruffly.
“Yeah, but I’m the Captain, ” Saltzy reminds us.
I swallow, watching him look at us for help, maybe an explanation. All this time, I thought he knew the kind of guy he came off as. I thought he liked being unreadable. It was his edge. It makes us all listen.
“It’s a good thing,” I say. “It keeps us in line.”
Lowesy nods, bringing his beer to his lips.
It’s true. Not knowing where Cap stands, what he feels, it makes us fight to impress him. We listen to him, even us vets. The way we respect him makes the rookies respect him even more, even harder.
“Did you grab me a glass of?—”
“Champagne,” Boston finishes with a nod, gesturing toward the drink at the chair beside him. “Yep.”
“Ah, thank you,” Lemmy sighs, her cheeks a bit pink. She fixes a few rogue curls that have fallen out of their pins. Her gray eyes scan the table, feeling the awkward tension as she lowers herself into her seat. “Boys.”
“Hey, Lem.” Lowesy smiles, nodding.
“Lem,” Saltzy grumbles, dipping his chin.
“Eleanor,” I say, flashing her a beaming smile when she glares at me. “How are you?”
Before she can answer, Saltzy jerks to his feet and storms away from the table without another word. Dec watches him go, giving a little sigh at the tension in his shoulders. I might have ruined a good thing here. I might have given our captain an identity crisis. This is not good for any of us.
“Damn, was it something I said?” Lemmy asks quietly, fishing a dark berry lipstick out of her clutch.
“Nope. That would be Forker.” Boss sighs, leaning back to smack me roughly on the shoulder.
Using her phone as a mirror, Lemmy applies her lipstick. “Shocker.”
“I didn’t think that was a bad thing!” I defend myself in a whisper. When she rolls her eyes, I narrow mine. “Why are you here, anyway? Are you two dating or something?”
“Jesus,” Lowesy mutters, running a hand over his face. I should probably just shut up.
Both Boston and Lemmy slowly turn to glare at me, faces ice cold and lethal. Again, I’m proving my point. Look at them both murdering me with their eyes. They would be perfect for one another, and they would be one of the best looking couples on planet earth.
“Maybe you should focus on yourself and your multiple layers of related charges,” Lemmy bites out.
“I needed a night out after dealing with your shit, and I was asked to be here by the organization. Boston and I are friends, so we’re seated together.
Is that okay with you, Carter? Do I have your permission to sit here? ”
“Yeah, do you approve?” Boston asks, leaning forward on his elbow.
“You two are a bit tense,” I point out, letting out a low whistle. “I know a good way to blow off steam if you haven’t ventured down that road together yet.”
“Forker,” Declan practically begs from the other end of the table.
My phone buzzes on the table, and the only reason that I concede is because I see Red’s name on the screen.
I open up the text messages just as Penny sits back down, immediately greeting Lemmy and jumping into the conversation with her.
Sweets to the rescue, as always. I’m pretty certain Lemmy was about to murder me.
Arden
Meet me near the bathrooms in five.
I raise my brows. Oh, it’s that kind of night?
“So, is there any information on who leaked that Irina shit to the podcast?” Boston asks Lemmy quietly.
I should be paying attention, but all I’m thinking about is red hair and cherry lips.
“I’m getting there,” Lemmy responds, leaning forward in her seat. “What I have managed to deduce is that it wasn’t Irina.”
Boston grumbles, running his hand over his face .
I watch the clock carefully, pretending to listen to the surrounding chatter.
At four minutes, I jump from my seat, tell them I have to take a leak, and rush into the hallway.
I find her almost instantly, which surprises me, since she’s much further from the bathrooms than she should be if we’re doing this. She’s also talking to a dude.
Focus on anything but the way the pisses you off, Carter.
She is looking impeccable in that black satin dress, it will be my pleasure to tear it off her before dinner.
I slow as I approach her and her glass of wine by the staircase. She’s nodding, a sweet smile on her face, talking to a man who towers over her. Her eyes glide to mine over his shoulder and I force my expression to look approachable rather than territorial, because I’m already annoyed.
Arden smiles wider, all pretty like she always is, gesturing to me.
“Ah, there he is! This is who I wanted you to meet.”
I stride forward just as the man turns, and I immediately come to a complete and total halt.
I do it so fast that I nearly stumble forward into his chest. He’s an older gentleman with a bald head and a red goatee, and I know that face .
Dark eyes, a scar under the left one, a bent nose from one too many breaks.
My heart gets lodged in my throat.
Gene. Fucking. Saltzman.
He cracks a smile, nodding at me like the beautiful bastard I know him to be. “Mr. Forkerro. Of course, I already know all about you, even before Arden talked my ear off about how great you are.”
I open my mouth, stammer a bit, and then clamp it shut. Oh god, my heart is racing in my chest so loud that I can hear it. Is it fucking lame if I pass out in front of my idol? Yeah, it is, Fork. Get it together.
I had no idea he was here .
Arden is grinning ear-to-ear, but she nods at me with a stern look in her eye, as if begging me not to mess up my chance.
“Holy shit,” is what I manage to choke out. Great. Cool.
Gene’s smile widens. “You know, I tell my kid all the time that he’s my son, but you’re the younger version of me. You play hard, you play smart, and you are bloodthirsty on that ice. You’re incredible to watch, Forkerro.”
I blink, staring at him. “Holy. Shit.”
Get it together, Carter. You’ve been waiting your whole life for this conversation.
Gene laughs then, holding out his hand. “You can blame my son for this late introduction. I’ve wanted to meet you for a while, but he said he’d rip that ‘C’ off his uniform if I didn’t go along with his warped prank. You might play like me, but that’s my boy. That’s my legacy.”
I am going to pass the hell out, but I need to make a mental note to smack Saltzy on the neck when I see him next. Robotic fuck.
I still haven’t spoken, so Gene continues, filling in the silence for me.
“Your lovely lady has been in touch with me over the last few weeks and asked me to make some time for this tonight. I was planning on showing up for the pictures and then leaving, as I usually do.”
Arden stares at me, gestures to his hand to wordlessly tell me to shake it.
I slap my palm into his a bit roughly and far too suddenly, but I’m not thinking straight. I hope to god he understands it’s because he’s an actual fucking god and not because I’m inept.
“It’s a fucking pleasure, man. I am your biggest fan. Biggest. You were my inspiration growing up. I idolized the fuck out of you. I can only dream of being half the player you were. ”
Gene smacks my shoulder. “You are your own player, and you’re mighty fucking good at it. You’re doing just fine, but I’m honoured to have been someone you looked up to. You’ve got a hell of a woman, too.”
I smile, my eyes meeting hers. She does a little curtsey behind his back. “Don’t I know it.”
“She made a pretty good argument advocating for me to betray my son. It started with the fact that you’ve paid off the adoption fees for every animal at a local shelter, and ended with the fact that you might cry, which would give the team some blackmail on you for the foreseeable future.”
I love this woman.
“She’s right. This has been the most incredible couple seconds of my life. The tears are coming.”
“That’s depressing. You need to get out more, kid.” He chuckles. “Don’t tell my son we did this, alright? We’ll act like it hasn't happened yet. I think his sentence was five years for you, and that’s almost up.”
Emotionless asshole.
“I might have to murder your son, sir.”
He barks out a laugh, smacking me on the shoulder again.
“You ever want to talk hockey, get in touch with me. Arden has my number. I have this idea mulling around my head, training camps for kids who have had a tough time and can’t afford the cost of organized sports.
I’d love to include you if you’re interested.
I think some of them would relate to guys like us. ”
Guys who swing first and ask questions later.
My eyes nearly bug out of my head. I envision a future where Gene Saltzman and I work together. Where we’re in photos together. Where we change the lives of kids like us, side by side.
Hell. Fucking. Yeah.
“That sounds fantastic. ”
“I’m hoping it will be,” he says with a nod. “Teach those kids to get their anger out elsewhere, you know? Anyway, get in touch, alright? Behind Cal’s back, of course.”
With one last handshake, he heads right out of the door like he always does at these things, and I’m left in the lobby with the love of my life.
I slowly look back at her and she smiles innocently behind her wine glass, her eyes searching my face for any hint of how I feel after my life just changed for the better for a second time because of her.
“You’re a sneaky little shit, you know that?”
Her smile widens. “Are you happy?”
“Happy?” I balk, my eyes wide. I point toward the doors Gene just walked through. “I just met a god, Arden. A god! I have been trying to shake that man’s hand for years .”
She nods, staring at me like I’m the best thing in the world. “I know.”
“You did that,” I tell her, stepping forward to place my hands on either side of her face. She tips her chin up, looking so fulfilled from making me happy. “You make all sorts of dreams come true, don’t you, Red?”
She shrugs. “Just trying to repay you for doing the same for me.”
“What other dreams do you have?” I ask, pulling her close to me. I slide my hand down to her neck. “I should get started on those, too.”
“Life,” she says softly, “with you.”
“Mm.” I nod, leaning down until our mouths are close. “That sounds pretty damn good. Put that on my list, too.”
“At least until that contract expires,” she continues, forcing a laugh out of me before I can kiss her. “Then, I guess we’ll have to figure it out.”
“Fuck that contract,” I mumble, pressing my mouth to hers. “I already had Lemmy look it over. She said it isn’t legally binding. So, unfortunately for you, I love you in a real, all-consuming, fucking insane kind of way, Bub. Nothing fake about it.”
She searches my eyes for a second. “I’m going to miss being Mrs. Faux Forkerro a bit, though.”
I hold her face, brushing my thumb against her jaw, a smile hitting my mouth. “Don’t worry—you’ll be Mrs. Forkerro again soon enough.”
She smiles, pecking my lips one more time. “Ah, that’d be good for the plot, wouldn’t it? If I decide to say yes, I mean.”
“Better start practicing your surprised face in the mirror, girlfriend. I will ask every single day until you say yes,” I tell her, sliding my hand down to her waist and gently pulling her taut to my body.
This time, I kiss her for real. I kiss her until that glass of wine falls to her side, until I pull that breathy little moan from her.
I’m going to make sure it’s a happy ending for us.
I might mess up. I’ll swing before thinking again and get myself in trouble.
I’ll say something stupid. She’ll shut down when she’s angry and refuse to ask for help when she needs it.
We will make mistakes, but we’ll tackle them together.
We’ll help each other through all the dirty, murky shit that life throws at us.
It doesn’t matter if we fight or if we go through ruts of annoying the hell out of each other, because the one thing I know for certain is that we signed up to show up for each other on day one, and that piece of paper might be null and void, but we knew what we were agreeing to the moment we scrawled down our names.
Might not have known it was forever at that point, but I’m well aware of that now.
What I’ve gathered about love is that it’s a choice and a feeling.
I’m not a fucking quitter, and neither is she.
We’re the god damn A-team. I will show up for her every single day because thinking about a single day where I don’t wake up next to this woman feels worse than enduring the wine curse for three solid months in a row.
She’ll show up for me because I’m handsome as hell.
There are probably more reasons, but you’d have to take that up with her.
The universe wanted us together. Maybe not as badly as I did, but it put us on the same path for a reason.
It knew I was supposed to be the one to love her, and that I was the best man for the job.
It knew she could depend on me, and as an apology for the life she had to endure before me, it sent her into the arms that would spend the rest of their life protecting her.
I will thank the universe for putting her in my path every single day, count the constellations on her skin every single night, and thank it again.
For giving me the blessing of getting to love her.
That’s all there is to it. I love her. Endlessly. Always. Every piece of her.
And imagine that—she loves me back.
And since she introduced me to Gene Saltzman, I’m kind of obligated to put a ring on that finger now, aren’t I?
I promise you, it’s coming.
For the plot.
And the whole fucking plot is that I love her.
Table of Contents
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