Page 51 of Notes About Vodka (Happily Ever After Hangover #1)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

LAURA

“Vodka and hockey share a truth: both are ice-cold, hard-hitting, and best enjoyed with the right people.”

The arena is packed, buzzing with energy. Val weaves us through the crowd as we make our way to our seats, and I can feel the excitement building in my chest.

This is my first professional hockey game, and the atmosphere is electric.

My grandfather took me to plenty of the minor league Cottonmouth games when I was a kid, but that arena is nothing compared to this one.

The sheer scale of it—the lights, the noise, the overwhelming number of people—is exhilarating.

Fans are decked out in their team colors, including Val and I in our new red and black hockey jerseys. Everyone is chanting and shouting, and waving banners in the air.

Val squeezes my hand as we settle into our seats, in the middle, not too far up, and I can’t help but feel a thrill at the thought of being here with him.

I glance over, seeing his face light up with excitement, and it makes me feel lighter too, like all the stress of the past few years can take a backseat for tonight.

The game starts with a burst of speed. The puck flies across the ice, and players crash into each other with bone-rattling force.

The boards shake with every hit, the sound of skates slicing through the ice is sharp and fast. I’m immediately caught up in the intensity of it all, my eyes glued to the action, my heart racing.

Val leans in close, his breath warm against my ear, his excitement infectious.

“Watch number 19 on the Panthers,” he says, pointing. “That’s Pyotr Petrov from Moscow, and he’s a beast. See how he handles the puck?”

I nod, trying to focus on the player he’s pointing out, but it’s hard with Val so close.

His arm is resting on the back of my seat, and every time he leans in, I feel his warmth, smell the hint of cologne on his skin.

His excitement pulls me in, and soon I’m cheering along with him, our voices blending with the roar of the crowd.

The game is a whirlwind of motion and noise—goals scored, penalties called, fights breaking out on the ice.

I’ve never experienced anything like it, and I love every second. Especially when one of the players tooth goes flying and hits the wall in front of me.

During a break in the game, Val buys us hot dogs and sodas, and we eat them in our seats, laughing at how messy they are.

He gets mustard on his chin, and I reach over, wiping it off with my thumb.

He catches my hand, his eyes locking with mine for a moment, and there’s something unspoken there, something that makes my stomach flutter.

I look away, smiling, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks before he grabs my chin and kisses me deeply.

The arena fades away in that moment until everyone around us cheers. I look up to see we have been caught on the Jumbo Tron by the KissCam. I laugh as Val pulls me in for another kiss, this one more demur and kid friendly.

By the time the final buzzer sounds, the Panthers have clinched a victory, and Val jumps up, pulling me into a tight hug. I laugh as he lifts me off my feet, spinning me around in celebration. “Did you have fun?” he asks, setting me back down gently.

“Yeah,” I say breathlessly, still caught up in the excitement. “I really did.”

After the game, we decide to walk around the stadium, soaking in the afterglow of the win.

The crowds are starting to thin out, but there’s still a buzz in the air, a kind of lingering energy that makes everything feel alive.

We stroll past concession stands and souvenir shops, our hands brushing against each other, and I feel a warmth spreading through me that has nothing to do with the night’s chill.

It finally snowed and New York City has an ethereal glow amongst the Christmas lights.

Val nudges me with his elbow, a sly grin on his face. “Want to take a little detour?”

“What kind of detour?” I ask, raising an eyebrow, intrigued by the playful glint in his eyes.

He glances around, then pulls me toward a quieter corner, down an alley next to the stadium. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out my small dugout.

I laugh, shaking my head.

“Seriously? You brought weed to a hockey game? ”

He chuckles. “What can I say? I like to keep things interesting.” He takes a hit, makes a new one, and then passes it to me. I hesitate for a second, then take it, bringing it to my lips. The smoke is warm and earthy, and I feel the familiar relaxation start to creep in almost immediately.

We pass the dugout back and forth, taking a few hits each, and soon we’re giggling like teenagers, the world around us seeming a little softer, a little more vibrant.

The neon lights of the stadium glow a little brighter, the laughter of the lingering fans sounds a little sweeter.

The walk back to the car is a blur of laughter and whispered conversations, the cool night air feeling amazing on my skin.

By the time we climb into Val’s Speed6, I’m feeling loose, a little floaty.

We could have taken the subway here tonight, but Val insisted that his all-wheel drive and turbo engine could handle the snow-covered roads.

Val turns the key, and the engine roars to life, vibrating through the seats.

He glances over at me, his eyes bright with mischief.

“Ready?” he asks, and before I can answer, he floors it, the car surging forward. The tires screech as we peel out of the parking lot and onto the toll road.

“Val! What the hell! Take it easy,” I cry out, but I’m giggling.

“With you, never! I want it all! The difficult, the crazy, the beauty that is so simple it takes our breaths away,” Val holds my hand in his as he moves the gear shifter.

We are being reckless. I don’t care .

Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the euphoric feeling Val always gives me.

But as he drives fast, way too fast, down a toll road connecting Manhattan to Brooklyn, I’m weightless, happy.

The windows are down, snow is drifting inside and the wind whipping through my hair, and the music is blasting.

Breathe by Télépopmusik comes on, and Val turns it up, glancing over at me with a grin.

“This is our song,” he says over the noise of the wind and the engine.

“Our song?” I ask, laughing, the wind carrying my voice away.

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s… I don’t know. It just feels like us. Just breathe, you know?”

I smile, feeling a rush of affection for him. “Yeah,” I say softly. “I know.”

We speed down the toll road, the city lights blurring around us, the world feeling wide open and full of possibilities. I glance over at him, his face illuminated by the passing streetlights, and I feel a warmth spread through my chest that has nothing to do with the weed or the adrenaline.

“Do you ever think about the future?” he asks, his voice serious, almost hesitant.

“All the time,” I admit. “But it’s hard to plan anything with…everything going on.”

“With Sam,” he says, and I can hear the frustration in his voice, the way it tightens his words.

“Yeah,” I say softly. “I’m still trying to divorce him, Val. It’s complicated.”

He’s quiet for a moment, the car speeding through the night. I watch the lights of the city flash by, the rhythm of them almost hypnotic. Then he surprises me.

“I don’t care,” he says, his voice firm, breaking through the hum of the engine. “I don’t care about Sam. I’m moving in with you, loving you anyway. Or you can move in with me. The only thing that matters is us, being together.”

I blink, stunned. “You… You love me?”

He glances over at me, his expression serious, his eyes softening. “Yes, Laura. I love you. Ty — lyubov' vsey moyey zhizni. I think I loved you the moment you walked into the bar soaked and took a shot with me.”

I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes, my throat tightening. No one has ever said that to me, not like this, not with so much conviction. “Val, I…”

Before I can finish, he pulls the car over to the side of the road, cutting the engine and turning off the music. The sudden silence is almost jarring. He turns to me, taking my face in his hands, his eyes searching mine.

“You are the love of my life, Laura,” he says again, his voice steady. “Ty — moya yedinstvennaya lyubov'.

I’m speechless, my heart pounding in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears.

He leans in and kisses me, slow and deep, and I melt into him, all my worries and fears dissolving in that moment. The world fades away, leaving just the two of us, the warmth of his lips, the feel of his hands holding me like I’m something precious.

When he pulls back, he’s smiling softly, his thumb brushing away a tear that’s slipped down my cheek. “I want to be with you, Laura. For real. No matter what.”

I nod, tears slipping down my cheeks, my heart full. “I want that too,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. I lean forward, pressing my forehead against his, closing my eyes. “I want you, Val. I want this.”

He kisses me again, and this time, it’s filled with a promise, a certainty that I haven’t felt in a long time. The future doesn’t seem so scary anymore, not with Val by my side. For the first time in a long time, I feel like maybe, just maybe, things are going to be okay.

We drive the rest of the way home to his place in a comfortable, happy silence, the music playing softly in the background, the effects of the weed making everything feel a little more surreal, a little more beautiful.

Val keeps one hand on the wheel, the other holding mine, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against my skin. It’s such a simple gesture, but it means everything to me right now. It’s a reminder that I’m not alone, that someone is here, holding on to me.

When we finally get back to his place, we can’t keep our hands off each other, stumbling through the door in a tangle of limbs and laughter.

Val’s lips find mine, his hands on my waist, and I can feel the intensity of his need, the way it mirrors my own.

It’s not just about the physical connection—it’s about everything we’ve shared tonight, the vulnerability, the honesty.

It’s about letting go of the fear and just being with each other.

Val fucks me deep into the night, his body pressed against mine, his breath hot on my neck. He touches me like he’s trying to memorize every inch of my skin, like he’s trying to claim me, and I let him, wanting to be his in every way.

I’ll never be able to want anyone else. Not after this. He has eclipsed all others for me. If I am his sun, then he must be the moon.

Right? It’s a good hypothesis at least.

Later, as we lay wrapped up in each other, our breathing slowing, I realize something.

Maybe Val is right. Maybe all we need to do is just breathe.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough. The weight of everything—the divorce, my mom, the uncertainty of the future and getting to medical school—it all feels a little lighter now, like maybe we can face it together.

I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and I let myself believe in the possibility of us.

Val’s fingers trace lazy patterns along the scars on my back, his voice a low murmur in the quiet of the room. “You’re my everything, you know that? My entire world.”

I smile against his skin, my eyes drifting closed. “And you’re mine.”

We fall asleep like that, tangled up in each other. And for the first time in a long time, I feel like I am living a happily ever after.