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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

SAWYER

K illing it.

I’m killing it against the Pittsburgh Flames. This game is regularly one that goes right to the wire, but not tonight.

As our goalie, Archer has had practically nothing to do all game with Emmett and me cleaning up after the team.

Jack’s on fucking fire too. His game was insane at the beginning of this season, but now? Well, this boy is starting to make his stepdad’s career look like a mere warm-up to the real Morgan era. Jack runs the show; we’re all just featured in it. And the best part? The kid’s humble, going about his business like it’s just another day at the office.

And when he threads an impossible flip pass to Matt, leaving him with the simplest finish in history, I can’t deny the pride that fills my chest. Sure, I consider Jack to be one of my best friends, but there’s over ten years between us, and to some extent, I feel like an older brother to him. When he joined the Blades last season, there were so many doubters, and tonight, he’s giving the final middle finger to all of them.

He bumps fists with the guys on the bench, and I push forward, making my way to him at center ice.

“Umm, what in the fuckery was that?” I’m referring to the flip pass he just pulled off, and by the cocky look on his face, he knows it was special.

I take it back. Humble, my ass.

“Last practice, I bet Archer I could throw it into the game and get an assist,” he says, pulling out his mouthguard.

I tip my head over my shoulder, grinning at Archer with a thumbs-up.

He throws his arms out to the sides before propping his hands on his hips, tipping his head toward the ceiling and shaking it slowly.

“Shit,” I breathe, “my goalie looks to be in pain. How much was at stake?”

I turn back to Jack, who is wearing a devilish grin.

“Oh, it wasn’t money on the line. I told him if I won, then he would be paired up with Lucy at my wedding. I was confident he wouldn’t win the bet, and this seemed like a good opportunity to keep him away from my sister in August.”

I know August 10 is the date Kendra and Jack— no, Jon —has set for their wedding, but the name Lucy is lost on me.

With the game still on pause while the Pittsburgh coach argues with the ref over something, I take advantage and dig a little deeper.

“Who the fuck is Lucy?”

Jack’s cocky smirk turns scheming. “Darcy’s best friend. Kendra has made good friends with her through my sister and asked her to be a bridesmaid.” He leans toward me, hand cupping his mouth like he thinks anyone can hear him over the twenty thousand roaring fans in this arena. “You cannot tell me that when I asked Archer to be the best man alongside you, he didn’t think he’d be paired with Darcy, the maid of honor.”

I snort and drop my head between my shoulders. “Please tell me that Darcy knows nothing about this?”

He scoffs. “You must be kidding. She’d kick my ass into next week if she knew I was being the protective big brother. She hates that kind of shit.”

“But you’re going to be exactly that anyway?” I say, one brow quirked.

He nods profusely, subtly motioning to Archer. “I know he thinks she’s hot, but would likely never act on it.”

Okay, I don’t entirely agree with that statement.

“But I’m not about to offer him any half chances to get in her pants.” He leans closer to me. “Last season in Colorado, he told me he likes to ‘fuck and flee’ when it comes to women.” He scoffs again, harder this time. “So, yeah, just in case he loses his ever-loving mind and thinks about making a move on Darcy, he can try his luck with Lucy and leave my sister the fuck alone.”

I’m gripping the back of my neck and searching for an appropriate response when I’m saved by the ref heading back to center ice.

I motion behind Jack. “Game time. Let’s see if we can secure our biggest home win of the season.”

* * *

Home win record set, I’m pushing into the players’ bar, ready to find my girl and son. I’m wearing the dark blue suit that I know drives her wild. I’m also hoping she’ll tear it off me tonight, just like she did the first time I took her home.

“Oh Jesus fuck, along with the shepherd,” Archer declares from behind me.

Not certain that even makes sense, I spin to face my goalie. “What are you talking about?”

He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, releasing a pained noise. “Next to Collins.”

I search out my girl in the sea of people and eventually land on pink hair and a petite honey-blonde standing next to her.

“Jesus fuck and the entire flock,” I confirm. “Jack didn’t say Darcy was going to be here tonight.”

Archer massages his nose, eyes still closed. “Don’t let me talk to her tonight. Keep me away for my own safety, for the love of God.”

I’m keen to get to Collins and Ezra, but Archer hasn’t talked about Darcy in a while, and I suspect his outburst in the hotel a while back had something to do with the girl he can’t even look at. “Are we going to talk about what the hell is going on with Darcy Thompson or just keep dancing around the issue forever?”

He drops his hand and opens his eyes slowly. “Nothing is happening, and I know I need to keep it that way. I’ve just never wanted a girl I know I can’t have before, and it’s fucking with my equilibrium.”

I clap a hand on his shoulder; it’s mainly intended to be a comfort, although it doubles as a warning. “Come talk with me, Collins, and Ezra. Because if you let your dick run the show, I’m one hundred percent sure it’s going to get cut off.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” He exhales slowly, almost like he’s giving himself a pep talk. “There are plenty of fish in the sea, right?”

I’m halfway across the bar with Archer on my heels when I wrap a hand around my girl’s waist, turning her around to face me.

Breathtaking.

At this point, no one knows we’re officially together, not even Jack or Archer, but I’m past caring about announcements. They’ll catch up.

“I’ve always wanted to know something,” I say, burying my face into her neck as she giggles at the tickle of my breath.

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

“How long does it take you to apply that liner so perfectly around your eyes?” I pull back and take her in.

She’s mine .

“Maybe thirty seconds per eye?”

I balk. “No way. Surely, it takes multiple attempts to get it that sharp?”

“Actually …” Darcy leans across the bar, her bright smile growing brighter as she takes us in. Archer nowhere to be seen. “When you master the art, it’s one of the easiest parts of a makeup routine.”

I look at Collins, who shrugs, not arguing.

“So, you guys are”—Darcy motions between us—“officially an item?”

“Yep, they are!” Ezra’s voice filters from behind me, and I flip around to face him.

“Where have you been?” I ask.

He pulls out his phone and opens his Pictures app. “Talking to Emmett Richards. He has a Ducati Superleggera and sent me a couple of images. It’s awesome!”

Collins scrunches up her nose, practically offended at the sight of it. “Ugh, superbikes are gross.”

I wrap my hand around her hip, pulling her into me.

“Talking of gross, I’m going to sit with the team.” Ezra shudders and gestures over to a table.

I track to where he’s pointing and find Archer sitting at a table toward the back of the room, talking with a brunette and her friend.

“I can’t be out late tonight; I have an early start at the garage. The pre-holiday rush is in full swing.”

Collins pulls my attention back to her, and I acknowledge her with a kiss right before my attention snags on Darcy.

Taking a sip of her cocktail, she eyes my goalie over the rim of her glass. Her attention on him can’t be for more than a second, but I clock it, and so does Collins.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight,” I say to Darcy.

She flicks her long hair over her shoulder, blue eyes back and focused on us both. “I’ll be moving over in the new year and need to find a place. I love Jon and Mum, but there is no way I am living with them. Jon is in full coach-meets-wedding-planner mode, and I’ve had it up to here already.” She rolls her eyes and brings her hand above her head, indicating she can’t take it anymore.

“Why don’t you just move in with Jenna?” Collins asks. “Oh, or me? We could be roommates!”

I can’t help it when my hand tenses around her hip, and Collins looks at me with a raised brow. I stay quiet, knowing now is not the right time to talk about living together. It’s not lost on me how much my girlfriend has grown—casually asking a friend to move in with her is a big step and something she wouldn’t have done several months ago.

That still doesn’t stop me from feeling some kind of way over her living with anyone but me and Ezra. I’m holding off on confessing how wildly in love I am with her. And suggesting she move into my place?

Yeah, remember to pull the pin out of the hand grenade before throwing it in the center of your brand-new relationship, Sawyer.

Darcy looks like she’s considering Collins’s suggestion for a second, and I hold my breath, praying she declines and feeling like a douche for it too.

“Whatcha talking about?” Jenna sidles up next to Darcy, soda in hand.

Bracing her elbow on the bar, Darcy rests her chin in her palm, looking a touch defeated. “About where the hell I’m going to live when I move here next year. Collins just invited me to live with her, and don’t get me wrong”—she reaches out and rubs an appreciative palm down my girlfriend’s arm—“I would love to have girls’ nights in front of chick flicks. But I just … I don’t know. I kind of want to live on my own. I’m hoping to have a bit of fun dating, and I don’t want to get in anyone’s way.”

“When you say ‘dating,’ I assume you mean one-night dates?” Collins replies, flicking her eyes to mine as we both recall where it all began for us.

Darcy waggles her brows suggestively, pulling a giggle from Jenna. “I’ve heard American boys like to dominate, and I can see the benefits in that.”

“O-kaaay.” Coach approaches Darcy from behind, already turning on his heel with a grimace on his face. “I joined this conversation at the wrong time. I do not need to know what my stepdaughter will be doing when she arrives stateside.”

“Or in this case, who,” I goad, lips trembling with laughter as I pull Collins under my arm.

Jon runs a hand over his mouth, pointing between us. “Collins, right? I’ve heard Darcy talk about you before.”

He smirks, and I internally wince. I’d recognize that face anywhere—he’s preparing to get his own payback.

“You must be the girl that rendered my captain useless on the ice for multiple weeks. He was a pining mess; it was kind of gross, to be honest.”

Darcy fights to swallow her drink, eventually managing it. “Pining mess?! Jesus, you can talk, Jon. How many months were you chasing Mum for? It was a pathetic display of obsession, and I loved it.”

We all descend into laughter just as Felicity approaches the group and Coach swings an arm around her shoulders, planting a kiss on her head.

“Hey, Angel. They’re beating me up over here. I need you to rescue me.”

She deadpans, and instantly, it’s obvious who calls the shots in their marriage. “Are you driving everyone mad with wedding-planning ideas again?”

His eyes light up, and he’s about to fly into some kind of ramble when Darcy holds up a hand.

“Yeah, I’m going to stop you there, Jon. We don’t need a recap on seating arrangements eight months before the wedding.”

“Ugh, I think it’s so cute though—Jack and Kendra getting hitched in the same place you two did.” Jenna sighs contentedly, staring off into space. “I hope, one day, I can get married in some beautiful English country house with the birds tweeting and bees buzzing.”

“What’s this about the birds and the bees?” Archer comes barreling toward us, throwing an arm over Jenna’s shoulders, attention completely off Darcy.

With a face of pure sunshine that I’m not entirely convinced is real, he looks around the group and doubles back when he passes me and Collins. “Wait, are you two more than just fucking now?”

Collins groans into my side.

“Always the gentleman.” Jon shakes his head, chuckling.

Archer extends his hand for me to take. “Congrats, buddy.” I shake it, and he moves to Collins, leaning forward and kissing her on the cheek. “Your secret’s still safe with me; don’t worry.”

She flushes, and I quickly tip her chin up, planting a soft kiss across her lips.

“What was that for?” she asks, the crimson on her cheeks spreading further.

I drop my forehead to hers, smiling like a fucking fool. “Fun fact: I’m possessive over my girl—I’ve waited long enough after all—and from here on out, the last man to kiss you will always be me.”