Page 9 of Slap Shot (Blades Hockey #5)

Daisy

¨You did what ?〃 Dad growls.

¨I offered to marry her,〃 West says for a second time.

And for a second time, he manages to completely obliterate my every train of thought because what the heck , Weston. If I didnˇt know any better, Iˇd swear that thereˇs a blinking ERROR sign plastered to my forehead.

As it is, I donˇt have the chance to get my brain back online before heˇs stepping forward to stand directly beside me. Without a word, he puts us shoulder to shoulder, our hands so close together that if I stretch out my fingertips by an inch, maybe two, weˇll be holding hands as if itˇs us against the world. Like partnerssoulmateshusband and wife.

No. Stop that. Not at all like husband and wife.

Fully intending to shut this whole thing down, I open my mouth only for West to speak up first: ¨According to Daisy, thatˇs what happens in Hallmark movies when one of the leads is down on their luck.〃

¨Oh, yeah,〃 Hunt says, ¨the marriage of convenience trope.〃

You could hear a pin drop, the room goes so quiet.

When Gwen lifts a brow at her husband, Marshall shrugs a bulky shoulder. ¨What? Reddit told me all about.〃

¨Jesus,〃 Andre groans, ¨not Reddit again.〃

Kammer perks up. ¨Was there a listicle? I always save those. Like, I have a million tabs open because I never want to forget that I wanted to watch〃

¨Stop. Talking,〃 my dad grits out from between clenched teeth, prompting Kammer to snap his mouth shut and mime throwing away the key. With that sorted, Dad turns the full force of his incredulity on my best friend. ¨Explain yourself. Now.〃

To his credit, West doesnˇt even flinch under the weight of my dadˇs infamous, dick-shriveling starealthough that might have more to do with the fact that West has been putting up with it for over a decade. Iˇm sure that itˇs lost some of its effectiveness by now.

¨Not sure what else there is to say, Coach.〃 He rolls one shoulder in a loose shrug. ¨I said that Iˇd marry her, and Daisy refused.〃

¨Because it was a joke .〃 I canˇt believe weˇre even having this conversation right now. Then again, maybe itˇs a dream. Maybe if I blink hard enough, one of these times Iˇll open my eyes to discover that Iˇve landed in an alternate reality where my best friend is doing the craziest thing ever by telling my father that heˇs open to marrying me.

Unfortunately, the universe must have it out for me because I blink, and I blink, and I blink again, and the scene before me remains tragically unchanged. The audacity, honestly.

Firmly, I say, ¨Iˇm not marrying, West.〃

Kammer shoots me a bright, strangely encouraging smile. ¨You could do better.〃

Hunt heaves a sigh. ¨You really need to stop talking, rookie.〃

¨What did I say?〃 The kid purses his mouth, and I swear, you can practically see his brain whirring along at top speed. ¨All I said was . . .〃 His eyes widen. ¨Oops, sorry. Meant to say that you canˇt do better than Cain because he is obviously the best of the best. Quality husband material right there. A slab of grade-A man meat, if you will. He brings all the fans to the yardhey! I was just saying that Daisy〃

¨ Aweille , rookie.〃 Without breaking his stride, Henri hauls Kammer toward the door by the back of his sweatshirt. He waves his free hand over his head. ¨Carry on, friends.〃

Just like that, the rest of us are abandoned to the tension bleeding out from one particular sourceSam Hall.

Somehow, this moment feels worse than any other that Iˇve had to deal with in the last week. And sure, I could pin the blame on bone-deep exhaustionwho has the mental bandwidth to consider marriage after the week that Iˇve hadbut the truth, I think, strays a little closer to home.

I canˇt marry West out of convenience.

I canˇt marry West at all.

No way can I survive living in such close quarters with him twenty-four-seven. I donˇt want to know if he walks around in low-slung sweatpants or if he prefers to only wear a pair of briefs. Or the shower. I have absolutely zero interest in learning how long he takes to wash himselfactually, scratch that. I donˇt even want to think about him in the shower. Down that road lies only madness and Iˇm not keen on driving myself to the brink of insanity, thank you very much.

Marrying West is a bad idea. Horrible.

I mean, thereˇs no playbook for when your best friend proposes marriage but obviously the only way to survive it is to pretend that said proposal never happened at all. Which would be a whole lot easier if he didnˇt just casually announce it to all of his closest friends and my dad , of all people.

Honestly, fuck my life.

¨We arenˇt getting married,〃 I reiterate again because this is me standing my ground. No, sir, I am not about to buckle, my knees are made of steel. ¨It was a jokean inside joke, at that.〃 I narrow my eyes at West, who doesnˇt even have the decency to look embarrassed. Fighting back a growl, I turn to Gwen. ¨If you want to help with getting the heat off my back, Iˇd really appreciate it, but marriage is off the table.〃

She returns my gaze steadily. ¨It could work, though.〃

Wait, what

No .

Has everyoneˇs common sense just walked out the door? Is this a boomerang situationlike, can I get an ETA on when their brains are due to come back around or are they officially gone forever, lost somewhere in the ether?

I want to cry. I want to stomp my foot like a child.

In the end, I utter only one word: ¨No.〃

No, I am not marrying West.

No, I am not signing myself up for inevitable heartbreak.

No, no, no.

¨How would it help?〃

The way my neck nearly snaps in half from how hard I swing my head to look at my dad.

He did not just ask that. But clearly, he did. And clearly, heˇs expecting an answer because instead of throwing his hands up and shouting, ¨Just kidding!〃 he actually presses Gwen for more information. ¨You said that it would helphow?〃

¨Misogyny, mostly,〃 she answers with a small shrug. ¨Put it this way. Fans love West. Our stats put him directly behind Marshall in terms of merch sales.〃

¨Clearly, they donˇt have taste,〃 Andre drawls.

¨And when it comes to social media followers, heˇs only fifty-thousand or so behind Jacksonbut Jacksonˇs numbers skyrocketed last year after he and Holly got back together.〃 Gwen uses her pen to twist her red hair into a loose knot. ¨None of this is news, exactly, but I think if marriage was on the table, we wouldnˇt need to worry about fans claiming that Daisy is somehow corrupting him.〃

¨Excuse you, I donˇt have the plague .〃

¨Even if you did,〃 West points out wryly, ¨youˇd already have given it to me by this point.〃

¨My best guess,〃 Gwen continues, ignoring us completely, ¨is that the select group of people who are seriously upset about this Bunny business would see marriage as a way for West to assert control over Daisy, which would mean that sheˇs less likely to cause trouble down the line for their favorite players.〃

¨Iˇm not a dog .〃 My God, I have never been so close to raising my voice in my entire life. ¨And West doesnˇt tell me what to do〃

¨Because I donˇt have a death wish,〃 West mutters.

¨So please explain to me how anyone would think that Iˇm just . . . rolling over and obeying whatever he says.〃

¨Because the people who actually have a problem with Confessions of a Puck Bunny will never believe that their favorite player is anything less than infallible,〃 Gwen says. She doesnˇt sound condescending in the slightest, and the heaviness in her gaze tells me that sheˇs taking this seriously. ¨In their eyes, hockey players are gods. And like gods, who cares if theyˇre good people so long as they have superhuman talents? Look at it this way. Say Marshall, for example〃

¨Shots fired,〃 Andre murmurs, only for Hunt to flash him the middle finger.

¨Is winning games for the Blades, who cares about what he does behind closed doors? To them, itˇs a non-issue. Some people have no problem in separating the artist from the art.〃 Gwenˇs gaze turns empathetic. ¨You wonˇt change their minds, Daisy. Iˇm not saying that you canˇt , but itˇs highly unlikely. They arenˇt your audience.〃

¨But marrying West . . .〃

¨Isnˇt a cure. Youˇd have to do a lot of legworkletting the Blades issue a statement, for one, and maybe even outreach to some of the players that youˇve . . . wronged,〃 she tacks on belatedly as if the word tastes funny in her mouth. ¨Iˇd put that one on the backburner for now, see what else we can do instead. But if you really want to sell it, youˇll have to at least pretend that youˇre in love with West.〃

But I already am .

Iˇm shaking, I think. Trembling so hard that I wrap my arms tight across my middle in an attempt to stifle the nerves eating away at me.

Thereˇs no way that this is my life.

For the first time all week, I regret creating Bunny. I regret being a shoulder for others, and I regret seeking justice for those who struggle to find it on their own. I regret everything . In the grand scheme of things, marrying West wouldnˇt be the worst thing to ever happen to mealthough it would definitely be masochisticbut this entire plan is the very antithesis to what Iˇve spent the last ten years trying to overcome.

Being the silly, na?ve girl who fell victim to the lies of a married man.

Working my butt off every day, every night, and every second in between, to believe in my own self-worth again after being so horribly led astray.

Seeking out a platform that allowed me the space, emotionally and mentally, to be to others what I had to survive on my own.

Bunny saved me.

I saved me.

And now, to save the team, and my dad, and West, I have to claw at all my old scars, rip them back open, and allow myself to be flayed alivebecause Iˇm in the wrong, again , Iˇm dirty, again , Iˇm seeking forgiveness, again .

There are tears pricking at the backs of my eyes.

I blink them away, as I always do, and look to my dad, whoˇs had my back through thick and thin since Mom left and never came back. Iˇm not sure what Iˇm searching for, exactly, but itˇs definitely not the bleak hope staring back.

He wants me to say yes.

Despite everything I just said about Amber Morley, he wants me to say yes .

Dimly, I feel my heart shatter.

Dimly, I feel myself reach for Westonˇs hand. His fingers curl around mine, holding tight. If I refuse, I know that heˇll put a stop to all of this in a heartbeat, no questions asked. But my dad . . . I squeeze my eyes shut just so I donˇt have to look at him again.

He hasnˇt made the announcement yet, but this is his last year with the Blades. He wants to retire from coaching and take a job doing commentary for one of the big networks like Sports 24/7. Only, that dream might not become a reality if the league thinks that Iˇm a stain on his career. As it is, heˇs clearly been losing sleep over the thought that the Blades might decide to pay out the rest of his contracted salary and kick him to the curb. The money might pad his bank account but the damage to his reputation would be irreparable.

If I say no, will he get that same troubled look on his face that he does whenever he thinks about Mom? If I say no, will he resent me the same way that he resents her?

If this is what unconditional love isruining myself to protect those who matter most to meit feels funny under my breastbone.

It feels wrong .

I push all of it down, twisting the lock on the box where I keep the rest of my insecurities and regrets and fears. None of it serves me any good, not when it feels like I have the weight of the world resting on my shoulders.

With a single word torn from my throat, I seal my fate for good: ¨Okay.〃