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Chapter Twenty-Three

“ Y ou’re going to stick out like a sore thumb, you know.” Maggie laughed, looking over at me as we walked into TD Garden.

“Why?” I asked, dumbstruck, looking down at myself. I had on an oversized pink, cream, and lavender Nordic-style sweater with a cute snowflake print that I thought was fitting for an ice rink. Plus, a matching pink scarf and lavender beanie to stay warm during the game. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Most people wear sports jerseys or team merch, or at the very least their team colors. You, on the other hand, look like a human ice cream cone.”

“At least I won’t be as cold as one,” I said, wiggling my mittened hands at her.

“Are those really necessary?”

“Hey, I have an iron deficiency, meaning I’m always cold.”

“Suit yourself.” Maggie momentarily held her hands up in surrender, but when we got through security, I could see what she meant.

The crowd was a sea of blue and gray jerseys, all very aware that they were here to proudly display which team held their allegiance.

“It’s not like I have any Harbor Wolves merch lying around,” I said, flushing.

That was a lie, though, wasn’t it? I had Liam’s hoodie still. The one I wore nearly every night to bed and around the house only when Liam wasn’t home. But wearing it out, in public—that was very different. Especially when Liam might see. He would probably think I was some stalker if he knew how often I wore his sweatshirt. The one that still seemed to carry the smell of him on it—

“It’s not a big deal,” Maggie shrugged. “You look cute. And at least we know Liam will be able to spot us from a mile away now.”

I was glad I had my scarf to hide underneath.

When Maggie led us to seats right in front of the glass, I gasped.

“We’re so close!” I started to sit, flinching as a hockey player zoomed by, the sound of the ice crunching beneath his skates.

“What did you think? Liam would send us to the nosebleeds?”

“Are we going to be safe here?” I cringed, shrinking away each time the players zoomed past. It was like I could feel the vibrations radiating through the glass as they passed. “What if a puck breaks through the glass or something

“Oh my gosh.” Maggie gasped. “You’re right! We need to alert the NHL immediately because I’m certain they never considered that possibility!”

Then she grinned, a sarcastic smirk replacing the look of horror she’d just worn.

“Ha, ha,” I spoke dully.

“Cass, we’re good. The glass is like indestructible,” she said, glancing at me as I fidgeted nervously. “But if you see a puck coming, duck.”

Uneasiness settled in my gut, not as much from the imaginary fear of getting injured but more so from the chaotic atmosphere of the arena.

It was insane. I’d always known the cult following the Harbor Wolves had, but seeing the mass of people gathered for a sports game? It was unreal.

People were yelling and cheering, and the game hadn’t even started yet. And more than a few were screaming for Liam.

“Where is he?” I asked Maggie, trying to find his face among the players zooming on the ice. Under their gear and helmets and the speed at which they moved, it was hard to pick him out.

“There.” She pointed. “Number 26.”

Once she pointed him out, it was obvious. His build, the way he maneuvered his body. But on the ice, he had a grace to him that I wouldn’t have expected. Despite his size, he moved effortlessly, gliding like it was more natural to him than walking.

My gaze tracked him on the ice, watching as he used his hockey stick like an extension of his limb, guiding the puck exactly where he wanted it. It was an art form, really. I had to force myself not to drop my jaw in awe.

It was easy to understand why he had the following he had. And some part of me felt unsettled by just how many beautiful girls were sitting in the stands, wearing his name on their backs.

Liam skated by, unaware of the girls nearby, screaming his name as he passed their section. I stared in the direction of the shrieking, eyes narrowing on the poster they held.

“That’s a little much, isn’t it?” I nodded toward two girls holding a glittery sign that said, “ Marry me, Brynn.”

Maggie laughed as her eyes landed on the sight. “I’ve seen worse.”

“Like what?”

“Let’s just say that one’s pretty tame as far as the fangirl signs go.”

I shuddered, my imagination filling in the blanks between Maggie’s words.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“It does, but not nearly as uncomfortable as it makes Liam,” she said.

I stared at him, watching as he was immune to it all. The cheers, the screams of his name, the pleading for his attention. For a minute, it looked like he was scanning the crowd for something, but it was impossible to tell for sure.

“So, he doesn’t go for it, then?”

“Hardly.” Maggie snorted. “Liam would be a hermit if he wasn’t so damn good at hockey. He loves his job—well, the playing part. But everything else that comes with it? The media. The fans like that .” She shrugged. “Well, I just feel kind of bad for him because as long as he plays for the NHL, he’ll never escape that.”

“So, why doesn’t he just quit? Find a normal job.” I squirmed, a newfound understanding of the man I was living with.

“Like I said, he loves the game. Sometimes I think it’s the only thing he cares about. He’d never walk away from that. Not for anything.”

The weight of Maggie’s words settled around me. It was clear that Liam took commitments seriously. Maybe that’s why he chose not to have any others. Hockey, apparently, was his end-all, be-all. I didn’t know why the thought of it left me feeling so hollow.

“There he is!” the fangirls a few rows away cried as Liam skated closer.

But this time, there was no mistaking where his attention was.

Sea-glass eyes met mine as his gloved hand came up to the glass, knocking twice in front of us and grinning. I blinked at him in shock, holding my mittened hand up in a wave. It was hard to believe that this man I saw in the most intimate of settings was now on display in this huge arena, with thousands of eyes locked on him. I watched him laugh at my surprise, and the sight of it had me smiling back at him before he skated away.

“Well, the fangirls aren’t going to like that. He usually pretends the crowd doesn’t exist.” Maggie laughed as the lights started to dim. “Oh, it’s starting.”

The National Anthem played, and all the while, Liam’s eyes remained straight ahead like a dutiful soldier, though mine were focused solely on him. It was as if I couldn’t tear them away if I tried, the heat of his attention still lingering. Seeing him there, in his jersey with his team, it was hard to reconcile the Liam I knew at home with this superstar player.

It made him feel untouchable and very far away in a way that was disconcerting. Why, all of a sudden, was I so overwhelmed? Why did it feel like I was losing him when I never had him and knew I never would?

The puck drop came a few minutes later, forcibly pulling me from my reverie. The teams spread out across the ice as if it were a battlefield, their hockey sticks like blades against the ice, working in perfectly practiced synchronicity.

Though I watched everything, I could barely keep up with what was happening. The sports announcer’s commentary might as well have been gibberish for all the sense it made to me. It was too fast, filled with too many unfamiliar terms for me to keep up with.

Liam was locked in and focused, it was clear he had one goal, and he was damn well going to see it through. That was the way he was with everything, even at home. I knew if he wanted something, he’d find a way to get it, no matter what.

After a few moments of watching him, I asked Maggie, “Is Liam captain?”

I was surprised when she said no.

“But why? It’s clear he’s the best on the team.”

She snorted. “Liam doesn’t like being responsible for other people. He’d never sign up for a role like that. Plus, all the additional press the team captain gets? The interviews he’d need to do?” She shook her head. “He’d never sign up for that.”

I mulled it over, not fully buying it. It was clear Liam loved to provide, protect, and take care of those he loved. It wasn’t the responsibility he was running from. It must be something else holding him back. I was sure of it.

My eyes tracked him, noticing how a player from the opposing team was getting close to him, too close.

Why is he so close?

I screamed when it happened, watching as the player wearing the other team’s jersey smashed Liam against the glass on the other side of the rink.

“What was that!” I said, not realizing I had grabbed Maggie’s wrist in the process.

“Ouch.” Maggie winced. “Relax, Cass.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” She laughed as if her brother didn’t just get his body shoved into the plexiglass. “That’s why they wear gear.”

“Why isn’t that a penalty or foul or something? Don’t other sports have consequences for hurting people?”

She shrugged. “It’s hockey.”

As if that made it acceptable.

But still, he was skating around like nothing happened, apparently used to the barbaric act. I took note of the player who did it, though: #10 on the Titans. I’d remember him.

Regardless of the setback, Liam took control of the puck once more, sending it flying to his teammate, who maneuvered it directly into the net.

The horn blared, sending the crowd into an eruption. I jumped to my feet at the same time Maggie did, suddenly filled with pride over this team I knew so little of. Only knowing that Liam was part of it, and therefore I’d never cheer for anyone else.

They didn’t bask in their glory for long, moving on with the game pretty immediately. I guess there wasn’t as much joy in a score as there was in an overall victory. They remained focused and steadfast.

The way they moved, all of them, but Liam most of all, was like magic. He had speed and agility; it was something to watch him. He made me understand why people paid such extortionate amounts of money to see these games.

I found myself marveling at what the human body could be trained to do. What Liam’s body could do.

The Harbor Wolves scored goal after goal. Each time, the horn blared, and celebration spread through the stands.

“Should we do the wave or something?” I asked, not sure about proper conduct during hockey games.

“If you start doing the wave, I’m leaving you here,” Maggie deadpanned.

I held my hands up in surrender, a giggle escaping at the gravity of her gaze. It looked just like Liam’s.

After a while, I saw what Maggie meant about the players being rough with each other. At every chance, they invaded each other’s space, shoving them out of the way with force. After a while, I got used to it. Mostly because Liam hardly gave them a chance to get to him again. He was fast.

Still, I noticed the way Maggie flinched when #17 was body-checked against the glass. I examined the player, the last name on his jersey alerting me to his identity. Brody.

I raised my brow at Maggie.

“What happened to ‘it’s hockey’?”

“Shut up,” she said, unwilling to discuss the matter further.

When the Harbor Wolves won, the team collapsed into each other, hugging their teammates in victory.

I felt as jittery and excited as if I were one of the players, pride blooming in my chest for the guys down there on the ice. Number 26 most of all.

I watched as he celebrated with his team, understanding on a deeper level now just what this sport meant to him. He deserved this.

I screamed his name, clapping foolishly, my voice getting lost in the roar of the crowd.

And then, for a moment, my breath caught, freezing me where I stood.

Because everyone in the stadium was looking at Liam Brynn.

But he was only looking at me.