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Chapter 40

Kitty

“Hey, babe,” I rasped out to Mel. I had on sunglasses and a baseball hat. It was 11 a.m., but my party’s festivities had lasted well into the morning hours. There may or may not have been One Direction karaoke. It was for the best that Guy didn’t stay over. He’d have played like shit.

I felt like shit. But Mel and I had booked brunch as soon as she told me she was coming down for this road trip. She said she needed a little mommy getaway time before she and Branson started trying for number two. She told me to pack my clothes and makeup for the game.

“Looks like the housewarming was a success,” she teased. “Sorry I had to miss it.”

“You were doing the good WAG thing, seeing Branson in Anaheim. You will be coming to my next house party, though, missy. I’ll make sure of it,” I said. “If I drink a mimosa, will it reactivate all the champers I drank last night?”

Mel cackled. “I hope so. I already ordered you one.”

“And to think, I didn’t think we’d get along before I met you. I sincerely apologize for that,” I said, scanning the menu for an item that didn’t make me want to barf. “I thought I was above WAG life.”

“Apology accepted. We all thought we were above it. If anything, I’ve gotten cooler since I had a kid. I concentrate all my fun into my non-kid time,” she said, checking her nails.

I went to pick up my phone out of impulse before I stowed it away in my purse, but Mel snatched it out of my hand.

“Uh-uh. No phones. This is our time to catch up,” she said, waving a finger in my face. “And I booked us some fun after this, too.”

Oh, Mel. I love her, but I was ready to hang my head over a toilet and take a nap so I could get it together before the game. Maybe watch some bad TV.

I groaned. “What kind of fun? I need a nap.”

“You and Branson,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Those boys nap more than our toddler. Anyway, Branson booked us a spa day. I could have done it alone, but I want a buddy. You can nap while you get a facial.”

I pretended to be annoyed, but time in a nice cool spa in a robe didn’t sound so bad. “Alright, I can get on board with that.”

“Yay!” Mel shouted, clapping her hands as the mimosas arrived. “So, tell me about the party. Any special guests?”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Who do you think was my special guest?”

“Oh, nobody.”

“You knew, didn’t you?”

“Sorry. Branson always spills every secret he’s absorbed after we have sex. He’s so predictable. But wasn’t it a nice surprise?”

I beamed. “It was. It was so weird in a way, having him there with all my people from work and comedy. Like, he fit in so well, but it’s just a worlds colliding thing. He and I hadn’t seen each other since New York.”

Mel gave a pouty lip. “He’s so obsessed with you, Kitty. I mention you and he just takes off. It’s the sweetest thing. He called you Aunt Kitty to Gunnar the other day.”

I blushed. “I’ve never even met your child, Mel. What’s he up to?”

Mel caught me up on the ins and outs of the life of a two-year-old. She was one of those easy friends. We didn’t see each other much. Shit, we’d only seen each other maybe three or four times in our whole lives. I felt bad that Guy and I broke up before they got married. She did send me an invitation, but I couldn’t do that to Guy. I knew he was in the wedding party. But still, Mel and I were in synch. I could text her about any random mutual interest at any hour of the day and she’d respond right away like we’d just gotten off the phone. Friends like that are the best. Low maintenance, high yield.

Our spa day was pretty magical. Branson had gotten us each a pick-three package. Mel encouraged me to get a manicure because she’d read great reviews of them, and I added a facial and blowout. Then I wouldn’t have to do my hair for the game and could take advantage of the plunge pool and hot tub in the lounge guilt-free. Mel opted for a massage over a facial, but I didn’t need all that alcohol pushed further into my bloodstream. The day was about recovery so I could be a good hockey girlfriend in the evening.

By 3 p.m., we were pampered and glowing. We got changed and ready in the spa’s dressing room. Mel wanted to be at the arena by four.

“Why so early?” I whined. I was being a real pain in the ass. I was lucky Mel has the sunniest disposition of anyone I know.

“I like to watch them warm up! Plus I like to see all the girls who have crushes on them, too,” she grinned.

“Evil,” I gasped.

“No, it’s cute! Reminds me that I snagged a good one. I need the validation for times when he acts like a dingdong.”

But by some miracle, we walked into the arena just after four, taking our seats on the glass between the two benches. It was unusual for us to have such good seats, but I didn’t think much of it. We cheered as the Sealpups came out of the tunnel, but as I scanned the players, I didn’t see Guy.

A light panic flashed through me. Was he hurt? Sick? Why wasn’t he out with the rest of the team?

“Where’s Guy?” I asked Mel, like somehow she would know.

“I don’t know,” she said, also concerned.

But then, in a spray of ice, Guy appeared on the other side of the glass. In a black and purple sweater. Like, an L.A. Princes sweater.

My jaw dropped as his glowing grin spread wide. He didn’t have his helmet on for warmups, which I gave him shit about most of the time, but this time, it let me look at him better. My stomach was permanently suspended like I was dropping on a roller coaster.

“No way,” was all I could say. Mel filmed us with a huge smile, as did someone from the Princes’ social media team who materialized out of nowhere. “Are you? Did you?”

Guy nodded. It was only when he motioned for me to stand up that I realized that the shock cemented me to my seat. Someone on the Princes’ staff handed me a box.

“Open it,” Guy said.

I moved the tissue paper aside to find a Princes jersey with his new number and STELLE written across the back. My hand clamped over my mouth and tears streamed freely down my cheeks.

“You’re staying?” I asked, holding my hand up to his on the glass. I could feel all the splotchiness on my chest and neck. Even Guy’s face was a little red.

Guy nodded. I was overwhelmed. Guy had figured it out. He left Seattle for me . He changed teams to be with me . He was giving up his friends so we could be together. I pounded on the glass, wanting to be close to him. He laughed, elated, and pointed toward the tunnel. I tripped over myself running to meet him. When I got there, he lifted me over the railing and held me up, my arms a snug lock around the back of his neck. There was no way I could reach his face when he was in his skates anyway.

“You did all of this for me?” I asked as he nuzzled me.

“I did. All for you. Always. You’re everything, Kitty. My life isn’t complete without you.”

“But Seattle,” I said through my tears.

“Seattle doesn’t have you, Birdy,” he said sweetly. “I’ll still see them. The most important thing is you.”

I kissed him as both teams gathered around to cheer Guy on.

“One more thing,” he said as we broke apart and he dropped me to my feet. Oh, fuck, was he going to propose? There? At the arena? The last time he proposed was in the ultimate privacy. Would he really do it so publicly the second time? He wasn’t lowering to one knee, though. He leaned over me. “I don’t have anywhere to live yet.”

Realization and relief flooded me. “Hmmm,” I pretended to deliberate. “I guess you could use my spare bedroom until you find a place of your own.”

Guy brought his face closer to mine, danger in his eyes but a smile on his face as he gripped my waist. “Don’t make me spank you in front of all these people, Kitty Bird.”

“Fine, you want to be my roommate? I’ll give you a good deal on the rent.”

“Kitty,” he warned.

“You want to move in with me?”

“That’s more like it,” Guy said with a kiss. “And good, because the moving truck comes tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe you figured it all out, Frenchie. Thank you.”

He smooched my forehead and touched my bird necklace. “You’re about to get so fucking sick of me.”

“Impossible.”

Guy and I kissed some more, and then he pointed to the top of the tunnel. “Look up.”

My parents and Frank were there, wearing Guy’s new jersey.

“I figured they could keep you company while I have to go play,” Guy said, kissing my cheek. Wait, my family was there, but Guy didn’t propose? Well, moving in with me and changing his whole life for me was a big enough shift. Still, even though we’d only been back together for a number of weeks, there was no doubt that Guy was the permanent destination. He was The One and had been all along. I could have easily committed right then, even if it was in front of an embarrassing number of people. Who else would I be with if not Guy, the man who uprooted his whole life so we could both have what we wanted? The man who waited for me all those years?

Guy and I did a short interview with L.A.’s marketing team, and recorded a quick goodbye for Seattle’s fans. It isn’t every day that a player changes teams for love and well, we’re both a little famous. I didn’t blame them for wanting to market the hell out of us.

With a final kiss, Guy lifted me back over the barricade and went out to warm up.

I turned back to Mel. “You knew.”

“That’s why I had to take your phone. We didn’t want you seeing the news before he could tell you.” She smashed her body to mine and rocked me side to side. “We’ll miss him, but I’m glad he’s coming home to you. He isn’t him without you.”

“We’ll just have to visit y’all, and you’ll have to come here,” I said. “Okay, gotta go attack my family. Wanna come?”

We all moved up to a suite the Princes had reserved for us to watch the game. I felt weird cheering against Seattle after years of supporting Guy, whether quietly in the background or more fully as his girlfriend. So I cheered for both teams, which amounted to a lot of cheering.

My voice was hoarse by the time Guy met us after the game. He wasn’t the first out of the locker room, though. It was Mikey. I’d totally forgotten that he was with the Princes until that moment. There were too many players to look at when I tried to follow both teams.

“Hey, screamer,” he said, opening his arms and running at me.

I shouted his name as he swept me up in a big hug. “I forgot you were here!”

“Indeed I am. Can’t get rid of me now. I’ll be on your couch every morning, just like old times.”

I laughed. “We may have to talk about healthy boundaries.” I looked around the room. “Anybody here for you?”

Mikey’s face fell. Fuck. I always put my foot in my mouth with him. “Still unsuccessful there. I do alright, though.”

“I’m sure you do,” I said, trying to console him and acknowledge his soft spot for the women who fell into his DMs. More power to him. He grimaced and tried to make me feel better about it.

“It’s fine. I’m alright. But I think every fight I had with Stelle in college was because I was jealous of you two.” Mikey raked his damp hair back. “But hey, you’ve been a bit of a superstar yourself, haven’t you?”

I gave a modest smile. “Something like that.”

“Proud of you. I always tell people I knew you back when.” I hugged him to my side again. Mikey had always been good to me, even if it was just in his brutish kind of way. “And I’m glad you and Guy figured it out.”

“Yeah, well, he did the hard part,” I said as a freshly showered and delicious-smelling Guy stepped to my side.

“You chirped yourself out, Birdy,” Guy joked when he heard my shredded voice. He leaned down to my ear, and before pecking my cheek he said, “Gonna have to make you more hoarse tonight.”

He gave big hugs to my family and then introduced me to some of his new teammates.

“Big fan of your work,” one player, Beatty, told me. “My wife’s already so happy you’ll be around. We love your standup. How are you going to be funny if you’re happy with Stelle, though?”

Guy stiffened. He knew that I faced criticism sometimes, the price of being in the limelight. Some of it was about my jokes. Some of it was commentary about my body.

I was too West Virginia. I wasn’t West Virginia enough, a sell-out. If I existed in a female body and was pictured at an angle that wasn’t the peak of flattery, I was pregnant with someone’s love child. All my jokes had to be about dating because I was a woman. If I wasn’t sad and bitter, I wasn’t funny. When I talked about fame, I was unrelatable. If I was too witty, I was unlikable. I’d seen and heard it all.

Guy was prepared. After all, he was the former @funnyfan96. He knew every nasty thing people had to say about me and had a comeback for every point. But here, he was going to have to work with Beatty long-term. He couldn’t be his full internet troll self.

“I’ve known Kitty a long time. She always has something funny to say,” Guy said with a forced smile.

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll roast his teammates next,” I said with a raised eyebrow. Guy squeezed my butt as he stifled a laugh.

“Right. Right. I guess that was a dick thing to say. Nice meeting you. Rachel looks forward to meeting you,” he said before walking away.

Guy turned me to face him before we moved to another conversation. “You never need me to defend you, Birdy. I love it.”

“But I like it that you do,” I said, planting a smooch on his lips. “My big, scrappy bulldog.”

We had a nice dinner out with my family, Mikey, Branson, and Mel. Guy held my hand when we weren’t eating. It felt like the old days when Guy would have dinner at our house. Everything felt complete. Nothing was wrong. Everything was working out. The puzzle pieces all fit. Guy was really mine to have and had moved mountains to get to me. He said his agent threatened to quit the day he asked if he could arrange a trade to L.A., after all the work she’d done on the New York area teams.

“We’ll have to send her a nice Christmas present,” I said.

“Maybe we can get her a baby announcement,” Guy said, wiggling his eyebrows.

My jaw fell open. “Guy Stelle, if you moved here thinking you were going to knock me up, you are out of your fucking mind. Call that moving company and tell them to turn that truck around.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he said. “I love getting you all worked up.”

“You just want me to take it out on you later.”

“Maybe,” he said, sinking his teeth into a roll with a wink.

My family stayed in a hotel to give us privacy, but would help us move Guy’s stuff in the next day. He had a day off before L.A.’s next road stand.

That night, after Guy and I had worn each other out in every position we could think of, we drifted off to sleep together in our home. Not just mine. Ours.

The thing I thought would never be possible had happened. Guy and I were together. We shared a home. We merged the lives we’d built and were finally getting our happy ending.