Page 16 of Slap Shot (Blades Hockey #5)

Daisy

I kissed West.

It doesnˇt seem to matter how many hockey players come up to give me a hug at The Box later that night, my brain is rudely focused on only one thing: West, our kiss, and the fact that Iˇve been a resounding hot mess ever since.

In front of me, Joshua Kammer is gesticulating wildly as he tells me a story, but my eyes are held captive by the sight of my husbandmy husband across the room. He ditched the suit jacket and tie hours ago, leaving him in a pair of leather suspenders that emphasize the width of his shoulders. I canˇt help but drag my gaze over the rest of himthe cuffs of his shirt that heˇs rolled up to his elbows to reveal inked skin, the casual way he stands with his hands tucked into the front pockets of his gray slacks. Even the column of his throat catches my eye thanks to his unbuttoned collar.

Heˇs so stupidly handsome that my heart actually aches.

I canˇt believe that we kissed .

Movement beside me ends my ogling, and I peer upward to find Kammer positioning himself so weˇre standing side by side. He slips his hands into his pockets, just like West, but it doesnˇt have the same effect on me. As in, I donˇt want to jump the rookieˇs bones.

¨What are we looking at?〃 he asks.

My cheeks burn. ¨Um.〃

¨Not the Anders brothers.〃 He nods his chin toward where Bjorn is clearly trying to convince the bartender to refill his cup with anything besides water. ¨So, maybe Cap?〃

Despite the embarrassment eating me alive, I canˇt help but smile at the way Kammer still refers to Jackson Carter as the captain of the Blades. Itˇs no shade to Andre, I donˇt think, just a leftover habit formed on the road to Hell and back after last seasonˇs Cup win.Jackson currently has his wife, Holly, perched on his lap while they talk with Duke Harrison, who retired over the summer after a longer- than-average career of killing it between the pipes. Beside him is his new bride, Charlie, who flashes me a bright smile when she catches me looking their way. I smile right back.

Everyone has come out to celebrate tonight.

The players, their significant others, even some of management. Iˇm trying not to think too hard about the fact that none of them are in on the fake marriage scheme. They genuinely believe that West and I decided to randomly tie the knot after years of friendship, and theyˇve all been incredibly supportive despite the recent upheaval of my alter egoIˇm talking hugs, excited high-fives, and about a million and one variations of, ¨I knew this day would come.〃

West has laughed it all off in good fun.

Meanwhile, Iˇm stuck in purgatoryfeeling guilty over all the lies while still flying high on the memory of finally kissing Weston Cain .

Kammer dismisses Jackson and Holly with a shrug. ¨Nah, not them.〃 As if heˇs got a homing beacon strapped to him, he lets his gaze skim over the rest of the crowd before settling in on West. ¨How long have you been in love with him?〃

Just like that, the world crumbles to ash beneath my feet.

¨I d-donˇt,〃 I stammer, ¨I mean, Iˇm not〃

The rookie bumps his elbow with mine. ¨Itˇs cool, we donˇt need to talk about it.〃

My tongues untangles itself long enough for me to get out, ¨Itˇs not like that with West. We arenˇt〃 Lovers. Partners. Soulmates.

Kammer lowers his chin to peer down at me. ¨But you are.〃

Thatˇs all he says.

Thatˇs literally it.

But. You. Are .

I swear, the fight goes right out of me, my shoulders drooping in defeat as I awkwardly avert my gaze. ¨Does everyone know?〃 Even to my own ears, my voice sounds pathetically small.

He waves a hand. ¨Nah.〃

¨But you knew.〃

¨I pay attention.〃 I donˇt mean to laugh, because itˇs not even remotely funny, but thankfully, Kammer joins in. ¨I know, right? Not exactly my M.O. Iˇm like . . . Like, really chaotic almost all of the time so I sorta manage to slide under the radar.〃 He bites his lip as if heˇs thinking hard on something, and then adds, ¨Iˇm like you that wayI think so, at any rate. Maybe Iˇm wrong. Sometimes I am. Okay, loads of time Iˇm wrong but, yeah.〃

I donˇt even realize that Iˇm staring until he fidgets and starts to blush.

¨When I say that Iˇm like you, I just mean that youˇreyou come across as a sweetheart but〃

¨Are you saying that Iˇm a bitch?〃 Itˇs meant to be a joke, but it goes right over his head. The poor kid stumbles over himself in his haste to apologize.

¨What? No! No, definitely not a bitch. Did I say bitch? Iˇm sorry, I just〃

¨Josh,〃 I say, cutting him off. ¨Can I call you Josh?〃

He blinks down at me. ¨Everyone calls me Joshua.〃

¨Okay, thatˇs fine. Joshua〃

¨But I actually kinda hate it.〃 He palms the nape of his neck, his expression losing that panicked edge. ¨Josh works. Hey, do you think if I tell the boys, they might stop calling me ˉrookieˇ all the time?〃

¨Not a chance,〃 I tell him.

¨Fuck. Yeah, youˇre probably right.〃

He looks so miserable about it that I canˇt help but return his earlier elbow nudge with one of my own. ¨Calling you ˉrookieˇ is their way of showing you affection. Imagine if all they said was ˉhey, you.ˇ Or worse, if they never spoke to you at all.〃

Josh physically shivers. ¨Yeah, Iˇm all good on that.〃 Returning his hands to his pockets, he rocks back onto his heels. ¨I didnˇt mean to call you out on the West thing.〃

¨No worries.〃 I force sunshine into my voice even though Iˇm cringing so incredibly hard on the inside. ¨Everyone likes to be told that they wear their heart on their sleeve. Itˇs good for the ego. Keeps us humble.〃

¨And I wasnˇt trying to make you sound like a bitch, either,〃 he goes on, sounding totally morose. ¨I only wanted to let you know that I appreciate what youˇve done with Confessions of a Puck Bunny .〃

My stomach swoops. ¨Oh.〃

¨Yeah. My sister, she had a bad hand dealt to her a few years ago. Got in with this guy that really messed her up here.〃 He touches his hand to his heart. ¨Sheˇs all good now, though, did some time in therapy or whatever.〃

¨Iˇm glad.〃 And I really, really am.

¨Thanks.〃 The small smile he gives me fades to a somberness that looks wrong on his perpetually happy face. ¨Anyway, after all that stuff about Bunny got leaked a few weeks ago, I know itˇs probably been hard for you, but I thought . . . I thought you should know that my sister would have been really lucky to have you on her side.〃

The rookieˇs face blurs before me.

¨See, you are a bit like Robin Hood, right? Giving people hope when maybe they were feelinˇ really alone. And Iˇm sorry if some of the fans canˇt see that, Daisy, but I hope you know that there are way more who feel grateful that you care.〃

My throat is thick with unshed tears.

I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

Joshˇs brows draw together. ¨Did I say something wrong?〃

No, not at all .

Shaking my head, a single tear slips past my defenses as I place a hand on the rookieˇs arm in gratitude. ¨Thank you,〃 I choke out. ¨I just . . . if you donˇt mind, I need tothe bathroom.〃

¨Yeah, sure.〃 Clearly unaware that heˇs just turned my world upside down, Josh gives me one of his trademark golden retriever smiles. ¨Congratulations, by the way. I really hope you guys make it workfor real, I mean.〃

Right. My fake marriage to West.

Everyone is watching you .

I squeeze Joshˇs arm and then twist away, hightailing it to the bathrooms so I can have this meltdown in private. Iˇm stopped at least three times along the way with more hugs, more offers of congratulations, more ¨I knew this day would come〃 comments that should appease the desperate corner of my heart that wishes West might love me back but only serves as a crystal-clear reminder that all of this is a sham.

The wedding.

The reason for the marriage in the first place.

Pretending that I feel remorse about Confessions of a Puck Bunny when I donˇt. Deep down, I donˇt feel any remorse at all, and I wish that there was a way to keep her alivekeep that part of me alive when it feels as though

The door to the bathroom swings open.

I barely have the time to turn my face away to keep the truth of my tears to myself. Crying in the bathroom on your wedding day? Not a good look.

¨Sorry!〃 I chirp as I make a quick dash for the paper towel dispenser. ¨My allergies, theyˇre just〃 dammit, Daisy, stop crying ¨I should have brought some meds with me, but I totally forgot.〃

¨Daisy-belle.〃

That voice.

That deep, whiskey-smooth voice that I hear even in my dreams. The unexpectedness of it feels like a hand wrapped around my heart, increasing the pressure on my volatile emotions until theyˇre boiling over. A harsh sob pushes out of me against my will, and I press the back of my wrist to my mouth, suddenly wishing that I took the time to hide in one of the stalls.

Behind me, the lock on the bathroom door turns over.

I donˇt know what comes over me, but I hear myself say, ¨Theyˇre going to think weˇre fucking in here.〃

Westˇs shoes clip quietly over the tile floor. ¨Let them. Weˇre a newly married couple, arenˇt we? And newly married couples fuck.〃

¨Yes, but〃

¨But, what?〃

Iˇm coming apart at the seams and this marriage is going to be the thing that pushes me right over the edge.

I sense his presence directly behind me right before I feel his warmth. To my surprise, though, he doesnˇt . . . He doesnˇt touch me or pull me into his arms for one of his signature hugs. He doesnˇt even press his hands down on my shoulders, the way he does sometimes, so that I feel the weight of him like an anchor keeping me grounded when I might otherwise float away. Instead, his arms come up on either side of me and he plants his hands against the wall. Inches separate my back from his chest, but still, Iˇm cocooned. Shut off from the rest of the world.

Safe.

¨Let it out,〃 he rasps from behind me, his breath warm where it ruffles the hair on the top of my head. ¨You need to cry? Iˇm not gonna let anyone see you. The door is locked, and itˇs just you and me in here.〃

My chest tightens. Tightens and twists like someone has stabbed a knife directly into my heart, bleeding out another ragged sob against my will.

¨I know, sweetheart.〃 His voice is a low, steady force. ¨Youˇve been strong for weeks. Putting on a brave face. Trying to keep everyone happy. You did good, Hall, so fucking good, but Iˇve got you now, and Iˇm tellinˇ you . . . Let it out, okay? Just let it all go.〃

I donˇt know what I did to deserve Weston Cain, but as fresh tears spill down my cheeks, the distance between me and my best friend grows smaller and smaller until Iˇm wrapped so tightly within the band of his arms, I swear heˇs trying to absorb the grief pouring out of me in waves.

Because it is grief, I think.

Maybe itˇs stupid, and maybe no one else will understand, but I gave everything of myself to Bunny. Five years of helping others, of taking a stand for whatˇs rightall gone in the blink of an eye. I miss the community that I built from scratch, the kindness and understanding that filled the comment section, the friends who popped into my DMs just to say hello. Iˇve been carrying on for weeks, so busy with trying to keep my head above water with my dad, and the Blades, and even West, that I havenˇt stopped moving long enough to realize what Iˇve lost.

Losing Bunny feels like Iˇve lost a limb.

Sheˇs there, sort of, buried under the heavy weight of damage control. Soon, I wonˇt feel her presence at all, and Iˇll be just Daisy Hall againfailed figure skater and the idiot teenager who hated herself for years.

Sniffling, I stay within the circle of Westˇs comforting arms for another second before gently prying myself free. Roughly, I yank a few paper towels from the dispenser before, with my head lowered in shame, I return to the row of sinks where I turn on the tap and wet the towel. One glance at my face in the mirror, though, and Iˇm pretty sure thereˇs no point in bothering.

¨Shit.〃 I look awful. Puffy eyes, swollen face. My cheeks are streaked with wet mascara. No chance anyone believes that weˇve been in here getting busy. Weˇll be lucky if they donˇt think that weˇre already heading straight to divorce.

West bumps me aside. ¨Here, let me.〃 He takes the damp paper towel from my hand and motions for me to turn toward him. ¨Tell me what to do.〃

¨Give me a new face,〃 I joke weakly.

¨I like this face.〃 He slides his palm behind my nape to cup the base of my skull. Then he presses the paper towel to my overheated skin and begins to carefully wipe away my ruined makeup, his brow furrowing in deep concentration.

My sinuses are all kinds of stuffed right now, and I sort of feel as if Iˇve just come down from a massive adrenaline crash. Still, I force myself to open my heart and let him in, the way that he always does so freely with me.

¨I donˇt know if I can do this.〃

His movements still. ¨Marry me, you mean?〃

¨Everything else that comes with marrying you,〃 I answer honestly. ¨The PR statements, the Tell All special that Gwen wants us to do. Pretending that Iˇm ashamed about what Iˇve done when I feel so . . . so very strongly about it. I donˇt know how to put on an act like that, West. Iˇm no good at it.〃

He pulls back to re-dampen the paper towel. ¨Youˇre better than you think.〃

I scrunch my nose. ¨Should I be offended?〃

¨No. Now close your eyes for me.〃 When I do, he gently rubs whatˇs left of my eyeshadow from my lids. ¨Youˇve been putting on a performance for your entire life. Every routine youˇve performed, every time anyone ever said shit to you about your career after you got hurtyou dug down deep and put on a smile.〃

My heart tumbles into freefall. Breathlessly, I ask, ¨Have you watched me perform, Weston?〃

¨Not Worldˇs but everything else I could get my hands on, yeah. Had to see how good my girl was. As it turns out, you were the best.〃

I was the bestand then it all fell apart.

To make myself feel better, I think about the endearments heˇs showering me withsweetheart, my girl. Both are new and both do funny things to my heart. Like a lead in a Hallmark movie, I want to swoon.

¨How many times did you want to tell Arthur Phister to fuck off?〃

At Westˇs unexpected question, I choke out a laugh. ¨I donˇt know. Too many to count, probably.〃

¨Exactly. But you never let it affect your job.〃 His knuckles graze my temple as he moves the paper towel up to my hairline. ¨And every time you posted something for Confessions of a Puck Bunny , or answered a message from someone who needed your help, didnˇt you ever stop to think about how Bunny might respond?〃

¨I . . . I, yeah. I mean, yes.〃

West steps back, and immediately, I miss the feeling of his hands on my skin. Opening my eyes, I find him standing a foot or so away with a look of contemplation on his ruggedly handsome face.

¨What?〃 I press a hand to my cheek, to my throat. ¨What is it?〃

¨Truth or dare.〃

My shoulders jerk in surprise. ¨What are you talking about?〃

He tosses the paper towel into the waste bin before leaning his weight against one of the sinks. His suspenders dig into his shoulders but lay flat across his chest. The expression on his face says that heˇs not playing around. ¨Whatˇs it gonna be, Hall? Truth or dare.〃

I fight the urge to glance behind me, knowing that no one is there and feeding him lines. ¨Um, dare?〃

¨I dare you to stay married to me.〃

I swallow, hard. ¨Oh?〃

¨Because Iˇm a safe place for you,〃 he says, as if Iˇm actually about to argue otherwise, ¨and we both know that I wonˇt let anyone fuck around and find outnot with you.〃 He lowers his hand to rest on the lip of the sink, his feet crossing casually at the ankle. ¨And while weˇre at it, I dare you to find out who Daisy Daisy-belle Cain really is.〃

My lips part on a sharp inhale.

¨Because youˇve been in survival mode for years.〃 His green eyes focus on the space right beside me, but Iˇm not offended, not even a little bit. ¨And I get that, sweetheart, I do, because most days it feels like Iˇve just been surviving too. But for every performance that we give the world with this marriage, I need you to promise me that youˇre gonna think real hard about what you want. And then I want you to grab it, and make it your own, and not give two fucks about what anyone else saysnot if it makes you happy. Can you do that for me?〃

I love you.

I love you.

I love you .

¨Yeah,〃 I utter hoarsely. ¨Yeah, I can do that.〃

Finally, his gaze lands on me again, this time in a lazy sweep from the crown of my head down to the white Converse sneakers that are peeking out from under the hem of my wedding dress. He opens his arms without fanfare, and I dive into the warmth of his embrace, my ear pressed against the steady rhythm of his heart.

He lowers his chin to rest on the top of my head. ¨Donˇt let go, right?〃

¨Donˇt let go,〃 I whisper, and I donˇt.

Well, not until Andre Beaumont starts banging on the bathroom door, that is.