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"I don’t need the Raptors gear. I am one."

James Adler

I love making people happy. Whether it's signing a kid’s jersey, giving a hug, helping someone propose, or crafting the perfect birthday surprise. It’s in those moments that I feel most like myself. And if it involves Elizabeth Bowen, well, that’s just the cherry on top.

“Come on, we’ve got to go,” I say, adrenaline pumping in my veins as I wait for Elizabeth in the living room.

“Hold your horses, I’m here, ” she says, stepping into the room. When I turn to see her, she takes my breath away. She’s wearing a pair of jeans with a women’s version of my jersey.

With a smile, she gives me a little twirl, and I get shivers when I see my name spelled on her back. “I think red and black is definitely more my color,” she teases.

I blow out a breath. “One hundred percent. I’ve been wanting to see you wear my jersey since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

Her arms fall to her sides as she gives me a scolding look. “James, we said no flirting.”

“What do you expect?” I say, taking a step back. “You’ve got my jersey on. I get a free pass.”

She blushes, looking down at her shirt, then back at me. “Wait, what about you? Why are you not wearing your jersey—or any Raptors merch for that matter?”

I look down at my black T-shirt and jeans. “I’ll wear the cap. But I don’t need the Raptors gear. I am one.” I wink.

Rolling her eyes, she turns around. “Come on, let’s go, Raptor.”

I try to make the velociraptor sound they play at the games when we score, but I don’t think it lands, because I don’t get so much as a giggle. Much less a laugh.

I’m grabbing my keys from the entrance bowl when she turns around to look at me. “Wait, was that supposed to be the Raptors sound?”

I wince. “Gotta work on that, huh?”

She giggles, opening the door. “Yeah, a little bit.”

As we drive to the rendezvous point where we’re meeting her parents, my excitement grows by the minute.

Most guys would be nervous about meeting the in-laws—well, you know what I mean—but not me.

Sure, the fact that they’re not technically my in-laws—yet—probably helps.

But I’m also just eager to meet them and see who raised this amazing human being named Elizabeth Bowen.

I’m also kind of excited for some hockey time, even if I won’t be on the ice.

Sharing my passion with like-minded people, especially as a surprise, is going to be a treat.

When I park near the restaurant, I recognize them instantly. Sure, they’re the only two people standing on the sidewalk seemingly waiting for someone, but I also see the resemblance. Elizabeth has the same face shape and hair color as her mom, and those icy gray eyes obviously come from her dad.

He wrinkles his forehead as we’re approaching, and I detect the exact moment he recognizes me, because he does a double take, and his eyes widen like two pucks. “Holy—what?”

“Happy birthday, Dad,” Elizab eth gushes, chuckling as she takes him into her arms for a hug.

“Hi, Mom,” she says, hugging her next. Both women are wearing the same elated expression as they look at her dad. “Dad, Mom, meet James Adler.”

He just shakes his head in disbelief. “Nice to meet you, James. I can’t believe this.”

We shake hands, and his grip is firm but not intimidating. I immediately like him.

“Likewise, sir. Happy birthday.”

“Please,” he says, waving a hand. “Call me Richard.”

“And I’m Pam,” Elizabeth’s mom says, taking a step toward me.

“So nice to meet you,” I say, flashing my best smile as I shake her hand.

“Well—whoa,” Richard breathes out, still gaping at me in disbelief. “I knew my daughter had some kind of connection with the Raptors, but not the eating-out-together kind.” He blows out a laugh. “How are you doing, by the way? That was a nasty hit you took.”

“I’m on the mend, sir. Thanks for asking.”

“And you’re wrong, Dad,” Elizabeth says, wincing. There she goes again. Miss meany girl. Although, this time, it’s actually really funny. “We’re not going out to dinner together.”

Richard frowns, glancing between us. “We’re not?”

I look at Elizabeth, then nod. “We thought you’d like to go to a hockey game instead,” I say, placing my hands in my pockets. “But it’s your call.”

He bellows a loud laugh, and I can’t help but smile. “You two! And you,” he says with an accusatory look at his wife, who’s all smiles.

I arch an eyebrow. “Is that a yes on the hockey?”

“Heck yes it is,” he says, giving me a high-five.

“Let’s go then,” Elizabeth says, her eyes sparkling brighter than ever.

We walk to the arena, blending in with the sea of hockey fans and merchandising vendors outside. No one even spares us a second glance. I guess you wouldn’t expect a hockey player to be walking alongside you on your way to a game—even an injured one.

“Oh, we’re using the players’ entrance,” Richard says with awe as we pass through the first gate using my badge.

It’s strange. I thought I’d feel a weight on my shoulders or a shroud of disappointment coming here tonight, but truth be told, I’m still loving every second.

“You’re getting the VIP treatment tonight.” I smile, leading them toward the second door. There, we meet Clay, the security agent.

“Good to see you, man,” he sa ys to me, shaking my hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Peachy.” I flash a smile. “Should be back on the ice in no time. Coming as a fan today, and I’ve got some friends with me.”

He nods to them in greeting. “Sounds good. Have a good night, folks.”

We continue inside. It’s not as sleek and pretty as the lobby or concourse, but Richard and Pam are all “oh” and “wow” as we make our way through.

We stop by the PR office, where we talk to Jenna and grab the VIP lanyards she set aside for them.

“Do you also want some merch?” she asks, scrutinizing me, as if I’m a disappointment to the brand, only wearing a cap.

I chuckle. “I’m good, but definitely some for our friends.”

“I already have mine,” Elizabeth says, opening her coat to reveal her jersey.

“Okay.” Jenna nods. “Let’s see what we can find.”

We follow after her to a room full of Raptors merch, and she tells Pam and Richard to help themselves to whatever they want. Being modest, they only take a single jersey each, and I grin when I notice it’s mine.

“You should also grab a cap,” I tell Richard. “They’re super comfortable.”

He chuckles, and Jenna hands him one.

“No one else?” She glances at Elizabeth and me.

I roll my eyes. “Fine, give me one of those Raptors pins.”

Jenna’s eyes light up. “The one with the flashing light and sound effect?”

I nod, and Elizabeth chuckles. “Oh, yeah. He needs to work on his raptor call.”

Jenna gives me the pin, and I secure it on my denim jacket. “All right, let’s get this show on the road.”

We continue our tour through the event level, and I have to stop every five seconds to say hello or chat with people. Most of them texted me this past week, but it’s nice to see their faces again, and to know that they're genuinely happy to see me.

Finally, we reach a corner, and I stop. “I’ll be right back. Can you guys wait here?”

Elizabeth furrows her eyebrows, silently asking me what’s going on, but I just raise my index finger, begging them to hold on for just a second.

I follow the smell of dudes and hockey equipment until I reach the locker room. It’s weird to be here dressed in my normal clothes.

“Adler!” bellows Stan, the eq uipment manager, giving me a hug the moment I step into the room. That attracts everyone’s attention, and soon, they’re all huddled around me, slapping my back and shaking my hand. Thankfully, the hearty back slaps don’t come with a splitting headache this time around.

“James Adler is in the house,” Beaumont shouts, coming toward me with a big smile. He gives me a bro hug, then holds me at arm’s length. “Let me see, how’s that face healing up?”

I roll my eyes. “Still looking better than yours.”

Everyone laughs, including Beaumont. I move on to greet everyone else, and Miles gives me the longest hug, even though we literally just saw each other a few hours ago.

“Good to see you, man,” Hawthorne says, squeezing my shoulder.

“What are you doing back here?” Wally asks, already dressed in his goalie pads.

“Just wanted to see if you guys were decent. I have Elizabeth and her parents with me tonight.”

A chorus of “Ohhh!” fills the room.

Here we go.

“It’s her dad’s birthday. I’m just part of the surprise,” I say, as if I didn’t orchestrate the whole thing. If they knew, I’d never hear the end of it. “S o keep your clothes on, and be on your best behavior.”

They all nod, laughing as I walk back to the end of the room. Once I return to the spot where I left my guests, I beckon them to join me.

“I thought it’d be fun to meet the team you’ll be rooting for tonight,” I say, a hand on my hip.

“Who?” Richard asks. “The Dallas Cheetahs?”

I look at him for a second, then burst into laughter. “Now I know where Elizabeth gets her sense of humor from.”

“I’m just pulling your leg, son.” He pats my arm, and my chest warms. Being called “son” when I’ve never had a dad is both foreign and strangely comforting.

“You call her Elizabeth, not Beth,” Pam muses, throwing me a soft but questioning look.

I rub the back of my neck. “Yeah. I just think her full name suits her better.”

Elizabeth’s smoldering eyes are fixed on me, and I avert my eyes. “Right this way.”