Page 2

TWO

RILEY

Our Stanley Cup celebrations moved from the arena, to an apartment, to a club downtown, and the night shows no signs of slowing down.

It feels like the whole city is alive and buzzing with excitement. We’re back-to-back champs after years of shitty seasons, and it’s fucking fun to celebrate our hard work.

Months of practice, early mornings, eighty-two regular-season games and four hard-fought playoff rounds have finally paid off, and when Maverick Miller, our devoted leader and wickedly talented right wing, stands on the bar and holds the Cup over his head, I can’t help but laugh.

“He’s insane.” Hudson Hayes, my defensive pair, shakes his head. “Ten bucks says he tries to crowd surf.”

“I’ll bet you thirty he says to hell with his no-alcohol pact, pours a handle of vodka in the Cup, and drinks out of it,” I counter. Maverick always turns down invitations to go out with some of the younger guys on our nights off to hang out with his wife at home, but now I watch him gesture at a bartender. He waves his platinum credit card around and points to the row of bottles arranged in a neat line, and I grin when Hudson slaps three bills in my hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, Huddy Boy.”

“How long are you going to stay?”

“Don’t know. Depends when everyone else heads out. Probably not too much longer.”

“You can come back to my place if you want,” he offers. He looks absurd with a light-up necklace hanging from his throat. It’s some bedazzled thing Ethan Richardson, our center, threw at him in the locker room earlier. I’m shocked it survived the journey here. “Madeline said Lucy fell asleep on the ride back to the condo after the game. Her parents are in town, but we could have a few beers and play a video game or something. It would be quieter than here.”

Madeline Galloway, his girlfriend, and Lucy, her daughter, are recent additions to Hudson’s life. He’s joining my other friends who are settling down, and I don’t know when everyone on the team went from perpetually single playboys to blissfully betrothed.

It’s hard to keep up.

“Are you hitting on me, Hayes?” I joke.

“See if I ever invite you over again. Maddie made a cake, but now you don’t get any,” he says.

I whine. Her affinity for cooking and baking is dangerous to the top-tier shape I keep my body in during the season, but it’s summer now. I can eat whatever the hell I want without Coach getting on my ass about nutrition.

Plus, some quiet sounds nice.

It’s getting pretty loud in here.

“Not fair. You should’ve led with that. I would’ve had a different answer.”

“Too late.” He stands when he spots Ethan taking off his shirt and waving it around his head. Hudson is a responsible guy, one of the oldest on the team and a veteran who’s spent years mentoring the younger players. He’s about to slip into dad mode, and I can’t wait to see who gets in trouble first. “You okay?”

“Hell yeah, I’m okay. We’re champions.” I grab my cigar off the table in front of me and take a puff. “I’m on top of the fucking world, man.”

“I’m going to put out a couple fires. See you soon?”

“Don’t worry about me.” The alcohol I’ve been nursing all night to keep up with everyone else is starting to seep into my blood. I feel loose. Light. Good . “I’m a big boy.”

Hudson smirks and beelines it to the bar. He grabs the trophy from Maverick before any damage can be done and I relax in my chair, surveying the club.

Grant is tucked away in a corner with his phone out, grinning at something on the screen. Liam is glaring at everyone like he’s secretly planning our murders. He probably is. Connor McKenzie, one of our second line guys, has his arms draped over the shoulders of two women, and Ryan Seymour, my backup, is dancing with his wife.

Even Coach came out tonight, but he disappeared an hour ago. He mumbled something about being under the weather, but it’s probably for the best. He’d kick our asses if he saw how we were acting, and we’d be skating laps until next season. Fuck if we won tonight or not.

My attention can’t help but drift over to the booth where Emmy, Piper, Maven, and Lexi are, and I frown at the man squeezed in next to Lexi. He’s chatting her ear off. Touching her shoulder and laughing at something no one else finds funny. Her eyes meet mine, and she gestures at the dude. It’s a can you believe this guy? move, and no, I fucking can’t.

Anyone with half a brain can see she’s not having fun. She’s trying to distance herself, to not giving him any attention, and it reminds me why I hate men who think every woman in the world wants to listen to them talk about something boring like the goddamn stock market.

I grab a napkin and flag down a server, asking to borrow a pen. I scribble on the folded paper, holding it up so Lexi can see.

HELP? it reads.

I’m awarded with a smile. She reaches for her own napkin and borrows a marker from Piper’s purse. I laugh when I see her answer under a smudge of lipstick.

GOING 2 SAY IM MARRIED. WANT 2 BE HUSBAND?

Turning the napkin over, I write out a response.

HONORED.

Lexi gives me a thumbs-up. I take another puff from my cigar and tap the ashes into the ashtray, then stand and make my way across the club.

“Ladies,” I say, grinning when I get to the girls’ table. My gaze bounces to the brunette with mischievous brown eyes. “Lexi.”

“Hey, sugar,” she purrs, and I should be embarrassed by how easily I blush.

I can’t help it.

She’s attractive. Out of this world sexy with her long, toned legs and sly grin. I’m pretty sure I’ve had heart eyes for her since the minute we met, but I’ve never tried to cross that line.

I’m twenty-six. She’s thirty-two.

She’s the team’s trainer, and I don’t want people to assume she got her job because a player called in a favor.

I’m quiet; she’s loud. The life of every party and vivacious as hell with witty comebacks and a laugh that would bring any man to his knees.

And if it were me down there, I’d wear a collar and crawl if she asked me to.

There are a million reasons why I’ve kept that boundary in place, but it makes me feel good as hell that out of all the guys here tonight, she’s asking me for help.

“Thanks for taking care of my favorite girls, man,” I say to the guy who finally looks my way. “I think you’re done here.”

“Oh. Is this a group-sex thing?” He glances around the table and lifts his arm, trying to give me a high five. “That’s hot. They’re all smoking. You’re lucky.”

“A what? ” I shake my head and lift an eyebrow. “I don’t have a death wish, but you might because the one who’s not giving you any attention? That’s my wife, and I don’t like when people touch what isn’t theirs. Any other questions?”

“ Shit . Sorry.” He slides out of the booth and almost falls on the floor. “She didn’t say.”

“It’s a game we like to play.” Lexi smirks in my direction with bright red lips. She grabs the toothpick from her drink and wraps her mouth around the speared lime. “I do something bad, then he punishes me.”

Christ.

She’s always flirty, but it never means anything.

I wish that line did, even if admitting it would get me in a world of trouble.

The guy apologizes again and practically sprints to the bar and his group of friends. He’s replaced by Maverick a few seconds later, who drops into Emmy’s lap and buries his face in her hair.

“There you are.” He wraps his arms around her waist and sighs. The dude is an absolute machine on the ice, but whenever he’s around his girl, he’s calm. Finally at peace after years of being unsettled. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“I’m right here. Exactly where you left me.” Emmy kisses his forehead and brushes a piece of hair out of his eyes. “And almost having an orgy with Riley.”

“Yeah?” Maverick turns his chin my way. “Did you tell him about the dream you had? The one with me, him, Hud?—”

“You’re cut off, Miller.” Emmy puts a hand over his mouth. Her red cheeks match her hair. “One more word and you’re on the couch tonight.”

He folds his fingers around her wrist and pulls her hand away. “A fair punishment, but if you’re going to invite anyone in from the team, Mitchy and Huddy Boy are the only two I’d be okay with.”

“I’m flattered, Cap. And now that you all have Mavvy here as your bodyguard, I’m going to head out.” I nudge Lexi’s heel with my sneaker. “You good, Lex?”

“I’m great. I don’t like to be rescued, but I don’t mind being a damsel in distress if it means getting saved by a guy like you.” She looks me up and down, and it’s mortifying how hot my skin is. I’m pathetic. “See you on Wednesday for the parade and rally?”

“Yeah.” I bump my fist against Maverick’s and give them all a wave. “See you then.”

I make my way around the club and say goodbye to the boys after turning down another offer from Hudson to go back to his place. I know he’s eager to celebrate with his girl after scoring the game-winning goal tonight, and I don’t want to be in the way.

I might be bordering on lonely, but I draw the line at hearing my friends have sex with their significant others. I deal with that enough during the season thanks to thin hotel walls, and I’m not in the mood to listen to orgasm after orgasm when I’m not on the receiving—or giving—end of one.

Finally finishing my rounds, I step outside, waiting for my rideshare to pull up. The June air is nice, and I nod at a few of the boys who are leaving the club to keep the party going at some speakeasy up the road. When I spot a white SUV, I check the plate and step off the curb.

“Lamar?” I ask, bending to talk through the window.

“Yup. Climb on in,” the Uber driver tells me, and I hop into the back seat. “Looks like a fun night. Are you celebrating something?”

“Yeah.” I smile and buckle my seat belt. I pull out my phone, starting to scroll through my notifications. My Instagram account is frozen from all the comments and DMs flooding in. The video I uploaded of Maverick on the bar with the trophy already has half a million likes and counting. “Something.”

“Life is short. We need to celebrate the small stuff.” Lamar shifts the car into drive, and we take off down the road. “Otherwise, what’s the point of living?”

“Good sentiment, man.” I click off my phone, not in the mood to answer messages from people I haven’t talked to in a decade. They like to pop up after major victories in my athletic career, and I like to keep my circle small. “What are you doing out so late?”

“Trying to make some extra money. My wife and I just found out we’re having a baby. Her first pregnancy was rough for her, so I told her I’d do some extra driving during the week so she can stay home. I don’t want her on her feet all day.”

“What’s your wife’s name?”

“Aliyah.” He smiles when he says it then looks at me in the mirror. “You got a girl?”

“Nah.”

“A guy?”

“Just me.”

“Ah.” Lamar flicks on his blinker and checks both ways before turning right at a stop sign. “Do you want someone?”

“Yeah. Guess the timing has never been right.”

“Timing is a bitch. You’re a good-looking guy. You seem smart, from the three minutes I’ve spent with you. You’ll find someone.”

I laugh and close my eyes. My buzz is wearing off. Exhaustion is hitting me, and I can’t wait to crawl into bed. I can’t wait to sleep until early afternoon and finally drag myself back to a world where I don’t need to be at the rink at the crack of dawn.

I love my job. Wouldn’t pick anything else to do if I had the choice, but some time off is going to be fucking marvelous.

“Thanks, Lamar. Is your first born a boy or girl?”

“He’s a boy. Three, and an absolute fucking menace.” He snorts, but nothing about it sounds annoyed. The dark skin around his eyes crinkles with admiration. Joy and pride. “I love him. He’s a good kid.”

“And your second. Do you know yet?”

“No. My wife is hoping for another boy, but I’m holding out for a girl. I’ve always wanted to be a girl dad.”

“Girls are the best. I work with some women who are incredible. We need more of them in the world.” I reach into my pocket, grab my wallet, and dig out a wad of cash. I count out ten hundred-dollar bills and lean forward, setting them in the cupholder next to Lamar’s right elbow. “Go home after you drop me off. You shouldn’t be busting your ass at two in the morning. Not when you’ve got people waiting for you to get back safe.”

“Shit.” He stops at a light and stares at the money. “I can’t accept this. No way.”

“I’m not taking it back.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m very serious. Keep it.” I smile. I’m earning eight million a year to hit a puck. It’s not right to keep that all to myself. “It’s yours.”

“Wow, man. Thank you. Are you an angel or something?”

“Nothing like that,” I say, and Lamar shakes his head. “Just a guy trying to do his best.”

“I can’t tell you what this means to me.” The light turns green, and he accelerates. “My family and I, we’re?—”

I don’t get a chance to hear what he has to say.

One minute, I’m looking out the window at the night sky and wondering what kind of trouble the boys are getting in. They’ll probably be out partying until sunrise, and I won’t be surprised if they show up to the parade with tattoos of the Cup on their arms.

The next, our car is in the air. Flipping three, four times in what feels like slow motion.

There’s a moment of panic. Of not knowing what’s going on and not knowing what to do. There’s yelling from the front seat. The sound of glass shattering and something sharp nicking my cheek.

My vision is hazy. Everything around me is blurry. I try to reach for my glasses so I can see, but they aren’t there. Pain like I’ve never experienced before races up my right leg and I scream. I grab my thigh. My fingers touch something damp and sticky.

When I look down, I find my hand covered in blood.

It’s the last thing I remember before everything goes black.