I smiled and pressed my hand to his chest. “Our first dates weren’t exactly ideal. But you stuck with me. You went to so much trouble for our second date, to make sure we did something I’d enjoy. When I told you how I felt that day we went bowling with your friends, you were actually upset. And sorry. You told me you’d never been in that situation before…but after that, you were careful to make sure I was having fun when we went out with your friends, making sure the other wives and girlfriends included me. You put work into it. So…when you say I’m worth it, I believe you. And you’re worth it to me…worth trying to get past my old insecurities and believe in you…and believe in myself.”
He rolled onto his side to face me, pulling me toward him. “Fuck, I love you.”
I laughed. “I love you too.”
He leaned in and kissed me, so sweetly my heart melted all over again. Then he drew back and looked straight into my eyes. “I promise to always be on your side.”
I nodded, my throat tight.
“Or on top of you. Or under you.”
I choked out a strangled laugh. “Perv.”
“Yeah. But you love me anyway.”
* * *
—
“Come for dinner tonight and meet my parents.”
We were in my kitchen the next morning, grabbing coffee and eggs and toast. I had to go to work, although I was going in a bit late since I had no meetings. Cam had a practice to get to.
Cam’s parents were still in Chicago. They’d stayed at his place and watched the away games, hoping the Aces would be back for more games.
I filled my lungs with air. “Okay.”
“Don’t worry, Lark already put in a good word for you.”
I shook my head, smiling.
“Maybe we’ll just go somewhere low key. It’ll be an early night. Hey, we could just order something in.”
“Tell me what to pick up, and I’ll bring it.”
“That could work.”
We indulged in a long, lazy, heated kiss before he left my place. When he opened the door of my condo we both burst out laughing. The bag of shorts was still sitting in the hall.
“Oh my God.” I fell against the wall. “I don’t know what Duke and Susan thought of that.”
“Those are your neighbors?”
“Yeah.” There were only two units on each floor, so luckily we didn’t stink out a whole bunch of people.
“Sorry. You totally distracted me by seducing me.”
“Ha.”
“I’ll take these home. Maybe my mom will wash them.”
“No!”
He jerked around.
I grinned. “Seriously, Cam. You lost the bet. You have to wash them.”
“Mom would do it if I asked,” he grumbled.
“I’m sure she would.” I laid my palm on his chest and kissed him again. “But you won’t ask.”
“You’re right.” He sighed. “Okay, I’ll talk to you later.”
I closed the door behind him with a euphoric sigh, leaning against it. Was I dreaming? Because wow…I couldn’t believe what had happened.
I was moved beyond words that he’d come to me. Knowing how hard it was for him to lose…to fail…he’d come to me and admitted it and showed his humility…the hardest thing of all.
I loved him.
And he loved me.
Smiling, I headed to my bedroom to get ready for work.
At the office, I breezed in, humming the tune that had been playing on my car radio on the drive to work.
The others were gathered around Julia’s desk, coffee cups in hand. They all gaped at me.
“Good morning!” I beamed at them. “How’s everyone?”
“What’s going on?” Paisley rose from a chair, eyeing me as if I’d dyed my hair purple and pierced my nose.
“Cam came over last night.”
Julia’s and Noah’s heads snapped up straight too.
Paisley grinned. “This seems to be a good thing?”
“Yes. I need coffee.” I headed to our little kitchen.
They all followed me in a trail. I smiled as I poured myself a cup of deep, dark pick-me-up. Although considering I hadn’t had much sleep, I felt pretty darn good.
I turned to face them, leaning against the counter. “What a guy. He brought over a bag of smelly shorts.”
Their foreheads creased.
“He admitted he lost the bet,” I continued. “He told me…” I got choked up for a couple of seconds. “He told me he did fall in love with me.”
“Oh my God!” Paisley and Julia shrieked at the same time. Noah smiled, and Paisley laughed.
But Julia looked troubled, her forehead still furrowed. “Do you trust him, Liv?”
I met her eyes. “I do. I know why you’re asking. But I do trust him. And…it feels good.”
“Okay.” Her face cleared, and she smiled too. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you. Okay! We have work to do! Only a few weeks until the gala.”
“I guess Cam will be coming?”
“Only if the playoff schedule allows for it. He said he would have come anyway, even if it would have been awkward, because he still wanted to help us.”
“Aw. What a guy.”
“I know. Fingers crossed that they’re still in the playoffs at that point.” I held up two fingers twisted together. “Things aren’t looking great right now, but they’re going to fight.”
I headed to my office, and the first thing I did was send Alexis an email telling her (briefly) what had happened. After our lunch that day, I felt closer to her. In the past I might have thought she wouldn’t care, but now I felt she’d be happy for me. And she was, although she was cautious like Julia, since Cam had hurt me. I suggested she and Mitchell and Cam and I go out for dinner one night soon, so she could judge for herself.
I started going through my mail, and when I picked up the envelope from the Dodsworth Foundation, my heart faltered. Sweat broke out on my palms. We’d applied for a twenty-five-thousand-dollar grant from the foundation…was this another rejection?
With shaky fingers, I opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. I had to read it three times. “Aaaaaaaah!”
Paisley immediately appeared in my doorway. “What?”
I waved the letter, joy bubbling up inside me. “We got the grant!”
Her eyes widened. She barreled across the room to grab the paper from my hands and peer at it. “Oh my God!”
“I know!” I jumped up and rounded the desk, and we hugged, swaying back and forth.
Noah and Julia appeared too, and we all did a group hug, laughing and high-fiving.
“Champagne tonight! On me!”
Another reason to celebrate!
I could only hope that the Aces played well enough that we had one more big reason to celebrate coming up. But if they didn’t, it would be okay, as long as Cam was healthy and able to take another run at it next year, as long as we were together, as long as I had my friends and my family and kids were getting healthier…those were all reasons to celebrate.
Cam
I dropped the bag in the dressing room and handed out clean shorts to Pilker, Rico, and Chaser, and gave Bomber his lucky jock, eyeing it doubtfully.
“What’s this, man?” Chaser frowned.
“The bet. I lost the damn bet. I’ll be washing this shit for you for the rest of this year.”
It took about two seconds and his frown disappeared and he laughed. “Fuck me, seriously?”
“Yeah.” I gave him a sheepish smile. “I went and talked to Olivia last night. I’m only going to say this once, so listen up, everyone—you were right. I couldn’t go out with her for two months without falling
in love.”
“Yeah!” They all did fist bumps, nodding to one another, smiling.
“I knew it,” Chaser said.
“Bullshit, you did not.”
“Yeah, I did. The day we talked about it, I knew something wasn’t right. It was so obvious how you both felt.”
I sighed. “Well, you could have told me.”
Chaser snorted. “You’re an idiot.”
“We’re going to rub that in your face for the rest of time,” Bomber said cheerfully.
“So she feels the same?” Chaser asked.
“Yeah.” I let out a sharp exhalation. Thank fuck. “She does.”
“Awesome.” Chaser grinned. “Jordyn will be happy to hear this.”
“We’re all happy to hear this,” Bomber said. “Your mood for the last week has basically been cranky with a touch of psycho.”
“Ha ha. Can you see the ‘fuck you’ in my smile?”
“You’ve been playing like shit,” Pilker said. “Up until the other night.”
“We all have,” I retorted. Then I sighed. “Yeah, I know.”
“Hopefully we can turn things around.”
“I’m in,” I said. “All in. We can do this, guys. Winners aren’t players who never lose…they’re players who never quit.”
“Oh Jesus, enough with the cheesy sayings.” But Chaser grinned.
I laughed and punched his shoulder.
Cheesy sayings were cheesy because they were true. And maybe it was also cheesy to think that with Olivia at my side, I could do anything.
Chapter 24
Cam
The game was tied. Sixty-three seconds left in regulation time. Sweat ran into my eyes, and my heart rocketed. I positioned myself on the face-off circle, right in front of the Tampa Bay net, as Rico faced off against Moyers. We’d just talked about what we wanted to do—Rico’d win the face-off, get the puck to me, I’d get it to the net.
Adrenaline rushed through my body as I focused. It felt dreamlike. Not real. The energetic music and the roar of the crowd around me faded away, and all I heard was my heart beating in my ears. I gripped my stick, blade on the ice.
The linesman was taking his time.
Drop the fucking puck!
The tension was palpable, everyone’s nerves hyper-alert, the two centers ready to pounce on the puck. “What the fuck, man?” I couldn’t help but mutter out loud.
Focus.
I watched Rico’s stick.
The puck dropped.
Rico attacked. He snapped the puck to me. I was ready. I glanced up, picked my spot just over the goalie’s shoulder, and drew my stick back to take my shot. I brought my stick forward just as the puck reached me and blasted it toward the net with perfect timing.
Into the net.
The lamp glowed red.
My heart exploded in my chest along with the noise in the Moen’s Center. I let out a shout, pumping my arms into the air as I was mobbed by my teammates.
“Fuck yeah!” Rico yelled, jumping on me.
They were all yelling and hugging, dancing around as if we’d just won the Cup. But that goal had only erased a few seconds on the clock. We had the lead now, and we needed to hang on.
Tampa Bay wasn’t going to let it be easy. From the bench, I watched them win the face-off at center ice and get control of the puck, rushing to our end. Their goalie rocketed toward the bench, and an extra attacker jumped over the boards, skating in.
It was frantic. Furious. Intense. We were all on our feet, yelling. Tampa Bay cycled the puck, shot at our net. My heart jumped into my throat as Stoykers made an unbelievable save, kicking it out. But Donovan got the rebound and shot again. Stoykers threw out his left leg to make the save. This time Rosser grabbed the rebound and tried to take a long shot toward the Tamp Bay empty net. “Yeah!” Then, “Damn!” Järvinen managed to get his stick in front of the puck, stopping it before it was even across the blue line.
“Shit!” I glanced at the clock. Eleven seconds. “Come on, boys!”
Could we do it? Could we hang on?
They controlled the puck again.
Nine seconds.
I couldn’t breathe. My body was electrified.
Another shot on net. Stoykers snatched it with his glove. The whistle blew.
Six seconds.
A bubble of joy filled my chest, but it wasn’t over. Not yet. Jesus Christ. I was dying, desperate to leap over the boards. All around me, the other guys were bouncing in nervous, hopeful anticipation.
The face-off was ugly, everyone scrambling for the puck in sheer desperation. Do or die for Tampa Bay. And for us too. One mistake now could cost us. My gaze darted back and forth between the clock and the action on the ice.
Two seconds.
My eyes went wide. Hallsy had the puck. “Yeah!”
He didn’t get a clean shot off, one of the Lightning players knocking his stick, but it got out of the defensive zone…slowly gliding across the blue line…
Everyone on the bench was jumping up and down.
Everything seemed to go in slow motion. A Tampa Bay player frantically chased the puck. It was heading toward their empty net…the guys on the ice were leaping up and down even before the horn sounded to end the game.
“Holy fuck!” For a few seconds I was stunned. Disbelieving. “Holy fuck!”
Stoykers threw his stick in the air, shook off his gloves, and was jumped by Rosser and Benny.
Everyone else piled onto the ice, and I threw myself over the boards to join the melee down in front of our net. I tossed off my gloves, unsnapped my helmet, and flung it aside as I hurtled toward them, the ice now littered with mitts and sticks and buckets.
I couldn’t even explain the feelings that rocketed through my body. It was a blur, a crazy, jubilant, triumphant smear of smiles and tears, laughter and relief.
I jumped on the pile of players, everyone crowded around Stoykers. It was insane, the noise so loud we couldn’t hear a thing, photographers all around us snapping pictures. Then I turned and threw my arms around Chaser. We hugged, me lifting his feet right off the ice, spinning in a circle, both of us laughing. Then I dropped him, and we punched each other and turned to the other guys.
The net was off its moorings, shoved aside by all the bodies.
Back on the bench, the trainers were all hugging and jumping up and down. So were Coach and the assistant coaches, Al, Danny, Austin, and Hank.
It was a completely different scene on the Tampa Bay bench, everyone with their heads down. Their captain was still on the ice, on his knee, head bowed.
We kept hugging, laughing, slapping each other’s backs. Duper was crying. There might have been a tear or two in my own eyes when he flew at me to throw his arms around me. “Fucking game-winning goal, man! You fucking did it!”
Holy shit. I did.
I hugged him back, squeezing my eyes shut, ignoring the camera that was practically in our faces.
Coach was on the ice now, also getting embraced. I lifted him off his feet, him in his suit and dress shoes.
“You did good, kid,” he said in my ear, slapping my back.
I grinned.
The rest of the team was on the ice now too, trainers, athletic therapists, equipment guys, and team management, along with about a million TV people. A line started forming—we still had to shake hands with the Tampa Bay players, and I joined in, sweat running down my face along with tears.
This was a reminder to stay humble. To be a good sport, a good winner. To congratulate the other team on a hard-fought battle. They were a damn good team and had challenged us the entire series, pushed us to work harder, dig deeper. I shook hands, moving down the line, until I got to Cody, who I’d played with in Medicine Hat. “D
ude.” We grabbed hands, then embraced. “You’re a fucking monster.”
He grinned, though his eyes were red. “Congrats, Brick. Way to end it like that.”
We patted each other’s chest and moved on.
I reached Svoboda, the Tampa Bay goalie. He grinned wryly. “Nice shot, Brick.”
“Thanks, man. You played fucking fantastic the whole series.” We hugged too.
The Tampa Bay players slowly left the ice, dejection evident in their slumped shoulders and lowered heads.
Someone handed me a baseball cap, and I slapped it onto my head as I was pulled over by Phil Radovan from TSN, thrusting a microphone in front of my face. It was hard to hear him over the crowd, still cheering and waving their towels, and I almost couldn’t talk, I was breathing so hard. I didn’t even know what I said to him; hopefully it made some kind of sense.
A red carpet was rolled out onto the ice.
Fuck. The Stanley Cup was coming out.
My heart jackhammered even more.
There was still a lot of hugging going on, guys in sweaty jerseys squeezing guys in suits. Our GM Ian Yarish pounded my back, and team owner Mick Rooney was next.
Tony handed me a towel, and I mopped my face and draped it around my neck as the commissioner of the league began to speak.
“The winner of the Conn Smythe Trophy for the most valuable player in the playoffs…the leading goal scorer in the playoffs…Marc Dupuis!”
I grinned and yelled, “Duper!” as he skated over and stepped onto the carpet to shake the commissioner’s hand. The crowd chanted, “Super! Duper! Super! Duper!”
Together they lifted the trophy and held it up, facing the cameras all crowded in front of them. Then Duper picked it up and skated toward the bench with it, holding it up to more cheers and applause. Jeff took it from him and set it on the dasher board.
Now we waited for the big one.
There it was.
I watched in awe as that big silver beauty appeared down the tunnel, carried by two men in dark suits wearing white gloves.
I always imagined what this moment would feel like. Now it was really happening. My chest inflated with emotion, my throat choking up. My sweaty skin tightened into goosebumps under my equipment.
Game On Page 24