Page 28

Sam

Three months later…

We’re in Vancouver for the NHL Draft. My nerves are uncontainable, though I try to hide it from Tucker. He pretends he’s calm and confident, but I know he’s terrified. So, I put on my game face for him.

Sitting between Tucker and his mom, I hold their hands, praying he’s selected. Kennedy is biting her cheek, her fear shaking through me, so I squeeze her hand tighter. His dad looks worried, not just for Tucker but also for Trent. They were both eligible for the draft.

Digging his elbows into his thighs, Tucker leans forward. He sucks in a deep breath and then turns to me, giving me a quick wink and a playful smile. I return the gesture, and his attention returns to the stage where the next draft pick is announced.

I want to puke. My stomach is in knots. I don’t know how Tucker can stay calm when I want to jump out of my skin.

They call Trent’s name in the first round, and our entire row lets out the breath of air we were holding.

We rise to our feet, clapping and congratulating Trent.

Tucker hugs Trent and whispers something into his ear, slapping him on the back.

Three more picks come and go, and I’m sweating through my clothes. I know Tucker well enough to see the worry on his face. He slacked off for most of his senior year and even lost some playing time over it.

But he learned his lesson.

He deserves to be here.

When they announce the tenth pick, my heart slams into my chest. We shoot up from our chairs, and I don’t even realize I’m screaming.

Tears fall from my eyes as I hug Tucker. “You did it, Tuck. I’m so proud of you.”

Tucker smiles and then plants a kiss on my cheek. He looks like he’s trying not to cry, so I do it for him.

I point at the stage where a man holds a red and blue New York Rangers jersey and hat. “You better get up there before they take it back.”

He laughs and then hugs his mom before heading toward the stage. His mom cries louder when Tucker fixes the hat on his head. I love him so much that my heart beats faster when he looks in my direction. A wave of emotions rushes through my body, pride being the most prominent.

Four months after the draft, I’m sitting in a luxury box next to Jemma, who has two newborn babies sleeping in the stroller in front of her. Thea and Teddy are the most adorable twins, the perfect combination of Trent and Jemma. The twins have Jemma’s red hair and Trent’s clear blue eyes.

“They’re on the ice together.” Jemma points down at the ice. “It’s so weird seeing them on different teams, playing against each other.”

“Tucker likes it,” I admit, hoping she won’t tell Trent. “We’re not twins, so we don’t get it. But I’m sure it must be strange having someone constantly compare you to someone who looks exactly like you.”

Jemma glances at her sleeping babies and smiles. “I guess.”

“Tucker hates being compared to Trent or his dad. Playing for a different team gives him some space, more of an identity if that makes sense.”

“I hope Thea and Teddy don’t go through the same thing,” Jemma says.

“They’re not identical,” I point out. “It shouldn’t be any different for them than if they were years apart.”

The twin babies are fraternal and only share the same hair and eye color. I don’t think anyone will have a problem telling them apart. But I wonder if I’ll end up having twins too.

I can’t imagine two more of Tucker.

He’s enough for me to handle.

And I love having him all to myself.

She nods. “How do you like your new apartment?”

“It’s nice. You know Tucker, he bought the most expensive one he could find. I could live in a three-floor walkup with an efficiency kitchen and make do with it.”

After signing with the Rangers, Tucker and I moved to a lavish apartment in Manhattan.

“When is your interview with The New York Times ?”

I clear my throat, choking back the bile rising from my stomach. “Monday morning. I still can’t believe Kennedy got me an interview there.”

Like me, Tucker’s mom went to school for journalism. She owns an online newspaper called Sports Buzz . But before she started her own company, her father owned Sentry Publications, which is how she helped me get my foot in the door with a few magazines.

“I’m hoping to work for a paper like The New York Times after I graduate next year. I would be happy to write the editor’s shopping list if it helped me get a job there.”

“You’re working with Kennedy for a while, right? To get some experience until the kids are older.”

“Yeah, that’s the plan. With Trent on the road, I have to focus on the kids and school before I can take on more work. Maybe in a few years, I’ll join you.” She winks. “Wouldn’t that be the dream?”

“Yes, it would,” I tell her. “Fingers crossed I get the job.”

She smiles. “We’re all rooting for you.”