Page 15 of Slap Shot (Blades Hockey #5)

Weston

¨How are you feeling?〃 Tory asks as he helps me straighten my tie. ¨Because if you donˇt mind me saying, you look like shit.〃

I feel like shit.

I tossed and turned all night, desperate for sleep that never came. Itˇs been a while since my midnight hours were plagued by stress-induced anxiety, but I quickly recognized the signs and rolled out of bed at half past four. Since sleep was elusive, I finished prepping the house for Daisy.

Weˇre getting married in . . .

¨What time is it?〃 I ask again. He took away my phone earlier so I wouldnˇt be tempted to text Mom and Dad that Iˇve called off the wedding. Although, to be fair, they drove in with Tory from Hartford this morning so I doubt that exit plan would get me very far before they called my bluff.

Tory finishes with my tie and steps back. ¨We need to head out in five.〃

¨Or we could leave now.〃

Green eyes the same shade as my own stare back at me, unwavering in their intensity. Then his brows shoot up toward his hairline. ¨Holy fuck, youˇre nervous.〃

¨What? No way.〃 My cramping stomach makes a liar out of me. Turning away, I reach for my wallet from the entryway table and slip it into the back pocket of my slacks. ¨Itˇs all for show, remember? Fake. A scam. Not real.〃

Tory scampers out the door after me. ¨But you want it to be?〃

Maybe.

Yes.

Fuck.

After I finish locking up behind him, my twin follows me down the short length of my driveway. We pile into my car with me behind the wheel and him playing passenger princess. True to form, he puts the seat back all the way and extends his long legs out in front of him. Some things never change.

And some do .

¨Can you text Daisy and let her know that weˇre on the way?〃 I ask.

¨Already did.〃

¨Right, okay.〃 My chest feels tight. I let out a slow, calming breath. ¨Good.〃

Tory side-eyes me. ¨Have you seen her dress yet?〃

¨Itˇs bad luck.〃

¨But you said that the marriage is all for show, remember? Fake. A scam. Not real.〃 I want to punch his smile right off his stupidly smug face. Itˇs a wonder we survived to adulthood, honestly. ¨By that logic,〃 he continues cheerfully, ¨thereˇs no reason to hide behind silly superstitions.〃

¨Iˇm set, thanks.〃 No point in risking it.

¨So, I shouldnˇt tell you that she sent me a picture of her in the dress?〃

I flash him a quick, annoyed glare. ¨Do you want me to make you walk?〃

¨We both know that Iˇd get lost. And then Iˇd be late to your fake wedding, which would leave you to deal with the parentals all on your lonesome, and youˇd probably lose your shit, cuss in front of the priest〃

¨Itˇs a courthouse wedding, Tor. Thereˇs no priest.〃

¨Potentially get caught on camera by some secret journalist camped out in the bushes, who would, of course, air out all of your dirty laundry. Daisy would clearly see the error in her ways, abandon you on the steps of the church, and leave you to your tears of misery.〃

My jaw is actually hanging open by the end of his tirade. ¨What the fuck is wrong with you?〃

¨Everything,〃 my twin says with a little finger wave, ¨and nothing.〃

¨That doesnˇt make any sense.〃

¨Were you entertained?〃

¨Iˇm speechless.〃

¨So, you were entertained.〃 He links his fingers together over his stomach and turns his head to look out the window. ¨My job here is done. You no longer look like youˇre about to puke up a weekˇs worth of food onto Daisyˇs pretty dress. Youˇre welcome.〃

Thereˇs so much to unpack there, and yet all I can think to ask is, ¨Her dress is pretty?〃

Out of the corner of my eye, I see my brotherˇs smile reflected in the passenger side window. ¨Yeah, West. Itˇs beautiful.〃

As it turns out, weˇre the last ones to arrive.

The good news: being late leaves little time for me to chat with Mom and Dad aside from thanking them for dropping off Tory this morning so he could help me get ready. The fact that they think this wedding is real is not lost on me; neither is the fact that they arenˇt trying to talk me out of marrying Daisy. By some miracle, theyˇve always adored her.

The bad news: Iˇm pretty sure that I left my house without my vows.

¨Fuck,〃 I mutter when I slip my hand into my pocket and come up blank. The curse earns me stern glares from my parents, never mind that this isnˇt actually a church and neither of them are particularly religious. Grimacing, I turn to Tory, elbowing him in the gut to snag his attention while we wait for Daisy and Coach. ¨Did you by any chance grab the sheet of paper that was on the entryway table beside my wallet?〃

My twin shakes his head. ¨I was too busy plotting a plan to erase that constipated look from your face, andoh, joy, itˇs back again. Great timing, bro.〃 He claps me on the shoulder. ¨Look sharp, here she comes.〃

Whipping around, my gaze moves swiftly past Coach, whoˇs wearing one of his familiar game day suits, to Daisy, and I

I lose every train of thought.

All gone in the span of a second.

She shines so bright, it hurts to look at her, and yet I canˇt bear to look away. I remember this feelingit was the same as when I stumbled into her at that gala all those years ago. It was the sensation of a fist clutching my chest, whispering, She feels like home . It was delight and surprise, my heart racing wildly when she traded banter for banter. It was holding out my hand when I had no reason to stick around except for a gut feeling that said: Sheˇs special. Donˇt let her go .

And I havenˇt, not in all these years. Iˇm not sure that I can.

Daisy Hall is burned into my soul.

Her long hair is pulled back and partially hidden beneath thin, gossamer material a veil . The word registers dimly but Iˇve already moved on, sweeping my eager gaze over her upturned face, taking stock of every little detail as if Iˇll be quizzed on it later. Her lips are shiny with gloss, her eyelids shimmering with a dusting of champagne shadow. Amber eyes peer up at me, nervous and hopeful, as those shiny pink lips tilt sideways into a trembling smile.

I breathe her name.

She whispers mine.

Happiness fucking frolics through my chest as the justice of the peace instructs us to step forward and face each other. My gaze dips down. Intricate lace as far as the eye can see. The floor length gown is held up by two delicate straps. On her left hand is a silver bracelet that catches the light as she passes her bouquet of pink and purple flowers to Tory. Then her hands are in mine, and the permanence of the moment clicks into place.

This feels right.

It feels real .

Not for show. Not a scam.

If the JP recognizes me as one of the star D-men for the Boston Blades, he either doesnˇt let on or doesnˇt care. Instead, he casually flips through the thin book heˇs holding and begins to read. I follow all of it, word for word, but especially when he asks, ¨Weston, will you take Daisy to be your wedded wife, to love her, to comfort her, honor her, and keep her, for so long as you both shall live?〃

Yes.

Always.

¨I do,〃 I vow.

Turning to Daisy, he repeats the same question. She holds my gaze, her voice ringing out clear as bell, when she vows in return, ¨I do.〃

¨Do you have rings to exchange?〃 weˇre asked.

¨Oh, shit, thatˇs me. Sorry, coming through.〃 After slapping Daisyˇs bouquet against Dadˇs chest, Tory reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a black, velvet ring box, which he pops open with such flare, I know that heˇs been practicing that move all morning since I handed him our rings for safekeeping. After all, heˇs both my best man and Daisyˇs man of honor. Clearly, my brother gets around.

Plucking a plain, silver band from the cushioned bedding, he carefully places it in the center of Daisyˇs upturned palm. ¨One for you, brat, and〃he pinches the remaining diamond ring between two fingers and offers it to me¨one for you, little bro.〃 With that, he salutes us both, tucks the jewelry box back into his pocket, and returns to his place beside Dad.

Looking utterly flabbergasted by Toryˇs antics, the JP visibly shakes off his confusion before carrying on with the civil ceremony, encouraging us to exchange rings when prompted and repeat after him, ¨With this ring, I thee wed.〃

The weight of silver feels unfamiliar but welcome on my finger.

Meanwhile, the sight of Daisyˇs diamond ring has my chest swelling with pride, the feeling so much more potent than all the times Iˇve seen her in my clothes. Daisy Hall wearing my jersey number? That shit does something crazy to my heart. But seeing the ring that I carefully chose for her nestled at the base of her fourth finger? It feels like nothing short of possession.

A primitive claiming that says youˇre mine .

Clearly unaware of the emotions practically short-circuiting my brain, the JP continues, ¨By the authority vested in me by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, I now pronounce you husband and wife.〃 Closing his book, he aims a friendly glance my way. ¨Weston, you may now kiss your bride.〃

Our first and last kiss.

Remember rule number one .

I should stamp a brief, impersonal peck across those shiny lips. I shouldnˇt stall, shouldnˇt care to make this something that weˇll both remember for the rest of our lives. I shouldnˇt lift my hands and gently cup her face; shouldnˇt step forward so I feel every curve of her body against the hard, straight lines of my own.

I shouldnˇt kiss her.

Not a real, this-is-fucking-happening kiss.

But I do.

I let myself linger in the rising swell of anticipation. Let myself tease hertease us bothwith the possibility of more. I cradle her face and lower my own. Catch her wide-eyed stare for one brief second before my lips are on hers, and Iˇm drawing a short, helpless sound from the back of her throat, and nothingfuck , nothing has ever felt so right as kissing Daisy.

As kissing my wife .

Still cradling her face, I find myself leaning in, pressing deeper. Her hands are frozen mid-air for a series of heart-pounding seconds, and then theyˇre gripping my biceps, her nails digging in almost viciously as she holds on tight. Our lips slip apart. Come back together. Gentle, so fucking gentle, and yet I feel like Iˇm climbing out of my skin. And maybe she feels the same way, too, because suddenly sheˇs lifting onto the balls of her feet, and Iˇm circling my arms around the small of her back to keep her there, plastered against me from chest to thigh, our mouths moving tentatively through uncharted waters.

She tastes of sunshine and hope.

And I feel like Iˇm drowning.

Reality crashes over me in a wave of obnoxious applause. The sound of my parents cheering us on drives Daisy back with an audible gasp, her cheeks stained the same color as one of the blooms in her bouquet. In the awkward lull that follows, neither one of us breaks eye contact to look away. Itˇs only after sheˇs squeezed an arm between us to press two fingers to her swollen lips that I realize I donˇt want to let her go.

I havenˇt let her go.

Fate takes matters into its own hands when someone drags me away for a hug Tory . I recognize the shape of him immediately. His forehead touches mine, his green eyes sharp and missing absolutely nothing when he cups my face in his hands, the way we always did when we were kids and about to tell each other a secret. ¨Pull your shit together, little bro.〃

Iˇm not sure what he means but then . . .

Then it hits me that Iˇm panting, hard, as if Iˇve just done hours of bag skates. And my face feels hot like Iˇm running a fever. Every muscle in my body is wound so tight, I can barely think beyond the building pressure ofof

Almost helplessly, I glance past my brother to where my mom is hugging Daisy. Her veil sits askew on the crown of her head. As she reaches up to fix it, her gaze meets mine over my motherˇs shoulder. Her amber eyes are wide in her heart-shaped face. Her cheeks havenˇt lost their color yet, and her lips . . . Her lips are still that warm shade of pink, but the shiny gloss is gone, kissed away by yours truly, and I taste strawberries on my tongue.

Sunshine. Hope. Strawberries.

The flavor of Daisy Cain.

¨Youˇre so fucked,〃 Tory grunts as he lets me go, and heˇs right.

I am fucked.

Because as I stand there watching Daisy be passed around for hugs and well wishes, I canˇt ignore the fact that I just kissed my best friendand I liked it.