Page 33 of Unrivaled Love (D.C. Renegades #2)

Jo

Us Against the World

I remember being in this Christmas in July parade when we won State my junior year. Our team got pulled on a float behind a pick up truck and I still feel the ache in my arm from waving for thirty minutes straight.

Ahead of me I see Bryson standing with some of his teammates, Crosby and Duncan, and behind them is a man in a suit guarding The Stanley Cup.

I hate to admit it but it is an impressive trophy.

And the tradition of winners taking turns with The Cup for the postseason is pretty cool.

But, winning the World Cup? A truly global championship? That’s way cooler than the Stanley Cup. I’m going to get there, one day.

Soon.

I’m so close I can practically taste it.

With a smirk of superiority on my lips, I approach Bryson and his friends. The guys say hello and then step away so it’s just us.

Sleeping in my childhood bed, after hooking up with Bryson in his, was a trip. I tossed and turned most of the night. Partially because my mind couldn't wrap itself around the events of the last week.

Partially because I was still so turned on. Apparently one orgasm a night isn’t enough anymore.

“Morning Jo,” Bryson says quietly as he leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek. His hand lingers at my low back and waves of heat spread through my body. I look up at him and see both the boy I used to know and the man he is now.

And again my brain can’t fully comprehend how they’re one in the same.

“You look great.” Bryson says as he starts to walk us closer to the trophy. “I want to introduce you to someone.”

I roll my eyes expecting him to be cocky and introduce me to “Lord Stanley Cup” as I’ve heard it referred to but instead he faces the man standing next to it.

“Jo Hamilton, I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Chris Boseman. He has been The Keeper of The Cup for fifteen years.”

“Hello Ms. Hamilton,” Chris says. He slides one of his white gloves off and shakes my hand. “I’m excited to have someone of your caliber with The Cup today.”

“Oh, thank you.” I reply. A little surprised he knows who I am. I watch as he slides the glove back into place. Bryson’s hand moves to the back of my neck and his fingers tease into my hair. The warmth of his touch is chased by chills.

“Chris will be riding in the front seat and we’re gonna be perched on the back seat of the car. Do you want to sit next to the Stanley Cup or next to the Conn Smythe trophy?” Bryson asks, his tone all business.

I try to rile him up. “Oh gee, the hardest trophy in sports or the MVP award for winning the hardest trophy in sports? Talk about a rock and a hard place.”

Next to me Chris laughs a little but Bryson only stiffens.

“Typically, the Cup is in the middle and then the player is on one side, his girlfriend on the other. Then we’d put the Conn Smythe on Bryson’s other side.”

“Yeah that works.” Bryson responds because I’m stunned silent. A little stuck on Chris casually dropping the girlfriend title on me .

I hadn’t thought about the fact that me riding along in the car would be a statement; a declaration of our relationship to the town and whatever national media outlets cover the parade.

How is it going to look to Coach McEmbry that I’m out galavanting at home instead of serving penance for my outburst? Is he going to question my dedication? My commitment?

“I, ugh, gotta go make a call quickly.” I throw a thumb over my shoulder and scurry away. When I’ve turned the corner and hid behind the ice cream shop, I pull out my phone.

My pulse races as I wait for my coach to pick up.

“Hamilton, if you’re calling to ask to come back early the answer is no.”

“Hi Coach, I’m not, but that clears up my second question so thanks.

” I force a titter of a laugh before I suck in a breath.

Coach just waits. It’s the silent treatment I tried on Bryson and fuck if it doesn’t work on me.

The words come flying out. “I went back to Colorado after, well, you know, and I reconnected with a childhood friend. And umm, he just won the Stanley Cup and today there’s a parade and I’m going to be in the car with him and it’ll probably be on the news or whatever and so I just wanted you to know.

But I didn’t want you to see it and think I wasn’t taking this suspension seriously.

I’ve been really upset about it and, well, Bryson has helped me work through it and I’m helping him work through some stuff too, I guess. ”

“Hamilton.”

“Yes, Coach?”

“This is why you shouldn’t tickle attack your teammates. They’d be much better to talk to about boy problems.”

“Oh, I'm not really having problems, it’s more like confusion…”

“Hamilton. ”

“Yes?”

“I don’t give a fuck who you’re dating as long as it doesn’t impact your game in a negative way.”

“Got it.”

“See you August first.”

“Bye, Coach.”

That was…not helpful. But I guess it’s good to know Coach McEmbry doesn’t care about my personal life.

“Jo?” Bryson calls as he rounds the corner. “Why’d you run away?”

“I wanted to call Coach and tell him about,” I gesture vaguely between and around us, “whatever, so he didn’t learn about it on the news.”

“Your coach cares about who you date?”

There’s that word again. Why is this surprising me? I can’t be casual with Bryson so dating is the next logical step. But also, am I ready for a relationship? Can I fit one into my life?

“Well, no, he told me he absolutely doesn’t but with the suspension I didn’t want him thinking I wasn’t taking it seriously or something.”

“You’re one of the most dedicated people I know Josie, there’s no way he’d think you weren’t taking your suspension seriously.”

“Yeah.”

“And,” he brushes his knuckles along my cheek. “Wasn’t the point to get away and relax for a bit?”

“Yeah, it was.”

“All I want to do is go back to Telluride and read with you or splash around in the lake.” He says quietly. We take a breath together and he brings his forehead to mine. “I hate the crowd waiting out there. They only want to see me because I’ve won.”

“Bryson, you know that’s not true.”

“Maybe, but you hate me a little bit for being a winner and that makes me want you more. ”

“Are you into light degradation, Bryson Svoboda?” I ask as I sink my fingernails into the skin on the back of his arm.

He hisses. “Maybe I am.”

“That’s good to know.” I press a quick kiss to his lips. “But, I have a question.”

“Fire away, Killer.”

“Are we dating?”

“Fuck yes.”

I laugh. “Really?” How can he be so sure of this? Of us?

Bryson leans back to look me in the eyes. “You thought we weren’t?”

“Well, no, I just, I didn’t know.”

“Jo, I want to be your boyfriend. I want to be more but we’re going to start there. I don’t want you to give up your career for me just like you don't want me to give up mine for you. This is going to be tough, dating long distance, but I’m all in. You’re it for me.”

“Okay.” I agree and bite back my smile. This shouldn't be so easy. It shouldn’t feel so right. It’s brand new, like days old. But, I can’t deny I’m dying to study our schedules to find times to get together.

“Okay.” Bryson echoes and he leans forward with another kiss. “Now, let’s go show our hometown the Stanley Cup.”

He sounds like he’s trying to get himself excited for this.

I reach for his hand and when our fingers link together I see his shoulders relax a notch.

His confidence in our potential as a couple erased my doubt.

Well, most of it. Now, I can do the same for him as we start the parade.

I can be confident for and alongside him.

Bryson is reserved as they get us and the hardware loaded into the car. Chris instructs us to keep our hands on the base between us and I maneuver my arm so it brushes against Bryson’s. The contact will be the reminder he’s not alone.

Our car pulls out of the staging area parking lot .

“Oh wow,” I say quietly. It looks like all of Grand Junction came out for this. Yes, it’s the annual Christmas In July Parade but there are a lot of D.C. Renegade teal jerseys in the crowd, too.

We begin our smile and wave routine and I sneak glances at Bryson to see if he’s doing okay. His back is stiff but his breathing seems normal. So far, okay.

About a block into our slow crawl down the route my eyes light up and I gasp with excitement. Bryson peeks over to check on me.

“Dog who resembles owner, 2 o’clock.” I mutter to Bryson out of the corner of my mouth.

“What?” He mutters back while keeping his eyes up and his arm waving.

Clearly Bryson doesn’t remember our old parade game. We would stand in the crowd and search for Dog and Owner Couples. Bryson was too sweet to mock the owners, it was always me finding the ridiculousness of the dog-owner resemblance.

“Look over here, under the Maeve’s Cookies sign. That guy and his poodle have the same haircut.” I explain slowly as I also keep my eyes up and arm waving.

I watch Bryson turn his head to the right and am treated to his eyes widening in delight when he spots the pair.

The half snort half cough half laugh noise he makes causes Chris to turn around and check that he’s not having a medical event.

Giggles erupt in my chest and I have to bite the inside of my cheek hard not to burst into hysterics. Staccato wheezes rack my body and that makes Bryson laugh harder.

“Stop it.” I try to scold but there’s no power behind it.

“You started it.” Bryson says as his eyes connect with mine.

The world grinds to a halt.

The crowd noise fades away.

Right now, we are the only two people on earth.

Sharing an inside joke in front of hundreds of people.

This feeling.

Being at his side. On his team. Us against the world. Because for all of the competing we did as kids, we were always together.

I have to blink away before I declare my emotions out of the blue.

The world returns to full volume and I hear Bryson clearing his throat. The faces blend together and my eyes can’t focus on anything. My mind is too busy telling me I love Bryson.

I’m completely lost in thought when Bryson grabs my shoulder. “Jo!”

“Uh, yeah?” I blink towards him.

He’s pointing to the sidewalk. “Look there!”

I follow his finger and my gaze lands on a little girl wearing my US Team jersey. I didn’t even know they’d released them yet. She’s jumping up and down waving at me so I give her a smile and wave back.

“That’s awesome.” Bryson says as we crawl forward. I keep my eyes on the little girl and watch her over my shoulder as we pass.

“Yeah, unbelievable.”

“You’re a role model, Killer.” Bryson says with a wink. “If they only knew how you took out your rivals.”

I pinch his side and he barks out a laugh before settling back in to finish the route to the park where the festival takes place.