For You, I Will: A Shots on Goal Spinoff (Shots On Goal Standalone Book 7)

by Kristen Hope Mazzola

  I put my phone down on my desk and squealed a little.

  “Did the boss lady finally like your idea?” Cierra popped her head up from her chemistry book. She was sitting cross-legged on the couch, chewing on the eraser end of her pencil.

  “Finally.” I beamed, jumping up. “I think this calls for a celebration.”

  “I have my chem final in an hour.” Cierra frowned. “How about dinner at Le Zie Trattoria tonight instead?”

  “Sounds like a wonderful plan.”

  “I am really proud of you, sis!” She shoved her notes and book into her messenger bag. “I’ll text you when I’m done.”

  “Good luck!” I called after my twin as she walked out the front door.

  As the door locked behind her, my phone binged with a text from an unknown number.

  What if I say yes to this interview?

  My palms instantly got sweaty. Could this really be what I think it is?

  You’ll be securing my slot in my job. I am on temporary status and an interview with you could be the game changer I’ve been hoping for.

  My words were honest. I didn’t want to give him some flowery, bullshit response.

  Meet me at The Tippler on 15th tonight at 5.

  I smiled widely at this text and quickly replied.

  See you then.

  In one day I had gone from scared to death that I was going to lose my dream job to skyrocketing to cloud nine. The chips were finally stacking in my favor, and all I had to do was continue to play my cards right.

  Chapter 2

  Cason

  “Why’d you agree to meet with me after turning interviews down for weeks?” Stormi enquired over her Old Pal, a delicious whiskey cocktail.

  “Is this on or off the record?” I knew I had to be careful as most reporters would print anything no matter what outcome it meant for the interviewee.

  “Off, if you want it to be.” Stormi’s face was soft and kind. Her dark green eyes had a simple edge to them that divulged her motives, though, and it was obvious she was hungry for a career-making story. She shouldn’t have confessed it so cavalierly. In the wrong hands, that information could be deadly.

  “Off, for now. To answer your question, it was your candor. Not too many people are as honest as you were in your text.” I sipped on my water as her eyebrow rose.

  “Here’s to honesty, then.” Raising her glass, she giggled a bit, a sweet melody that rang out in the dimly lit bar. “Should we dive in?”

  “By all means, let’s get down to it.” Sitting across from her, my heart started pounding. Deep down, I knew I wasn’t going to like what was coming, but it was a bitter pill I was willing to swallow for her. There was just something about her, an eagerness that radiated out. I recognized it well, and for some reason, I cared to see the spark ignite into a fire.

  “May I record this?” she requested as she pulled out her phone.

  “Whatever you want.”

  “Mr. Bennett, when did you start playing hockey?” She cocked her head to the side as she waited for my answer.

  Clearing my throat, I rubbed the back of my neck. “I think I was born with skates on my feet. A Minnesota boy has two options growing up: play hockey or get ridiculed for not doing so.”

  “Did you always know you would go pro?”

  “There wasn’t a day I practiced that I wasn’t aiming for that coveted goal. Once I saw there was a chance to see that dream turn to reality, there was no stopping me.”

  “You were recruited with Chase Harding. Can you comment on the other rookie’s performance?”

  “It was an honor to share the rookie title with such a talented and accomplished player. To be honest, he is a better skater than I am. Working with him and the other men on the team was a dream come true.”

  “But that dream was short-lived. How have you been coping since your untimely injury?”

  Damn. She didn’t waste any time getting to the point.

  “As well as to be expected, I guess. Am I upset? Of course. Am I a little bitter? Definitely, but that’s the gamble of playing in the big leagues.”

  “How has the recovery been for you? Any chance for a miraculous comeback?”

  That question stung. I bit the inside of my cheek as I mulled over the best way to answer.

  “If the doctors are correct, and I fear they are, no. The damage has been done, and I have to hang up my skates. It’s a tough pill, but I have to swallow it, even though I’m reluctant to do so.”

  Her eyes softened as she turned off the recording app on her smartphone. “I am very sorry, Cason. I was hoping for a different answer.”

  I leaned over, hovering my finger above the red button to continue the interview. “Nothing to be sorry about. You gave me honesty, and I’m just returning the favor.”

  Before she could reply, I tapped to start recording again.

  “Let’s dial back a bit. You are notorious for not giving interviews. When I googled you, all that came up were stats and bare-bones information. Your Wikipedia page is really minimal.”

  “Is there a question in there somewhere?” I asked with a chuckle.

  “There is,” she continued. “Being a Minnesota native, how have you been adjusting to the Big Apple?”

  “It’s been a refreshing culture shock. After playing for the Michigan StateSpartans for a couple of years, I was gluttonous for adventure. New York seemed like just the right adventure. If I’m being honest, the pizza is worth the hectic pace of the city.”

  “Your first season in college, you had thirty-seven goals and thirty-nine assists. That’s an impressive number for a rookie. Any comment on how that was even possible?”

  “We had a good coach, and my team worked like a well-oiled machine. It wasn’t just me on the ice—without the other guys on my team, that never would have been possible.” Realizing my good old days were just a blink in the rearview mirror was a little jarring. I felt like I should have been forty talking about this crap, not twenty.

  “Out of all the players on the Otters, who do you look up to the most?”

  “Frankly, most of them tie for me. Those men are talented and beasts on the ice. One guy who does really stand out, though, is Crosby.”

  “That’s interesting for a left forward to reference the goalie, but I like it. What stood out about Will Crosby for you?”

  “He’s a team player to his core, a good backbone for the team. I really respect that about him.”

  “So what is next for you? Any short-term plans? Long-term?”

  I shrugged. “Well, I really have no idea. I am taking this one day at a time. Focusing on my physical therapy is at the forefront of my mind right now. As far as the future, walking without a cane is my first priority, and I’ll figure out the rest as it comes.”

  “I think we got it. Can I call you if I have any follow-up questions?” Stormi turned off the recorder while taking the last sip of her mixed drink.

  “That’s it?” Not nearly as painful as I expected.

  She nodded and checked her watch. “I have dinner plans with my sister.”

  “More honesty—I like it. You can absolutely call or text me any time if you need more for your article.”

  I gestured to the server as I pulled out my wallet.

  “Let me get it,” she interjected. “You had water, and I had an overpriced drink.” Stormi put her hand on mine, and electricity coursed through me.

  “I insist on paying. You broke me out of my shell—it’s the least I can do to repay you.”

  Her eyes lit up a bit. Anything in the world I could do to keep that going, I was planning on doing.

  “Fine, but I owe you one. Maybe dinner when the article is finished?” The way her lips twisted and her cheeks dusted with light strawberry was adorable.

  “I’d like that very much.”

  “Wonderful. It’s a date.”

  Stormi

  “How could I have been so forward? It’s a date? What was I fucking thinking?” I bu
ried my face in my hands while sitting across from Cierra at dinner.

  “Hello? He’s hot as hell, and I think it’s about time you get out there. You’re always interviewing these gorgeous men, so one was bound to pique your interest eventually.” Cierra giggled a bit as she watched me die a thousand horrified deaths in front of her.

  “He was probably just being nice agreeing to go to dinner with me. I’m a professional, so I can’t let it look like I slept with Cason to get an interview.” My stomach knotted at the thought of the field day the rumor mill would have if that started up.

  “And this is why you are going to go out with him after the article is released. You’ll be fine.” Cierra dismissed me as she bit down on a meatball.

  “You’re right. I have nothing to worry about. What harm could dinner actually do? It’s not like I invited him to sleep over or something.”

  “Sleep over? What are you, twelve?”

  Cierra was right—I was acting like a naïve little girl.

  Chapter 3

  Stormi

  About twelve years later

  Wrestling my suitcase through the door, I kicked the bag into the foyer.

  Home at last.

  Covering the Stanley Cup playoffs had been incredible, but there was nothing like coming home from being on the road.

  Walking into the dining room, I was greeted by a gorgeous bouquet of long stem white roses with a note sitting next to them.

  Welcome home, beautiful.

  Happy anniversary.

  Meet me where it all began at six.

  There’s one more surprise for you in the bedroom.

  Have a glass of wine, get ready, and I’ll see you tonight.

  I love you,

  Cason

  Hurriedly, I burst through our master bedroom door to find a garment box on the bed. The smell of sweet perfume permeated the space as I ripped at the red bow. There was a bright blue long-sleeved dress with a simple gold necklace and matching heels just waiting for me to put them on. Leave it to my husband to be the romantic one first. Cason was much better at the mushy stuff than I was, but I had one ace in my back pocket that was sure to be a showstopper.

  There was no time to waste. In rapid succession, I showered, styled my hair, smeared on makeup, and called a cab. I had already been running late when I arrived home, but it was nothing Cason wasn’t used to. The long travel days and inevitable complications that came with both of our jobs made the time we got to spend together that much sweeter, but it was also mildly frustrating.

  Butterflies crashed in my stomach as I walked into The Tippler. No matter how long Cason and I were together, every time we were reunited, I got excitedly nervous to be with him again.

  As our eyes me, he scrambled to his feet.

  I ran into his arms as he scooped me up and kissed me like it had been a lifetime since we’d last seen one another.

  “God, you’re stunning,” he said breathlessly, setting me down to lead me to our usual table—the same one I had interviewed him at all those years ago.

  “You clean up well yourself. I must say, you’re one sexy hockey recruiter.” I gave him a coy wink before taking a sip of my usual drink.

  “Happy anniversary, baby.” He raised his glass to mine as a crooked smile took over his chiseled face.

  “Ten years of marital bliss—how is that even possible?” Time had really flown by. It felt like only yesterday I was shaking, asking him questions about his knee injury.

  “Because you’re perfect, sweetheart.” And there it was, the sweetest words coming from a man who held my heart so tenderly in his hands.

  “How did it go in Austin?” I questioned, scanning the food menu.

  Cason shook his head. “First rule, remember?”

  I rolled my eyes. “No work talk on date nights.”

  With a kind smile, he grabbed my hand. “We have the next two weeks to go over all that boring shit. Tonight, let’s just be us.”

  “That’s going to be hard with Brayden’s retirement party in a few hours,” I reminded him.

  “I know. Just give me until then. The guys will be hammering me to spill about if I found the next Otters star.”

  I pulled a small, simply wrapped box out of my purse. “Anyway, my turn to surprise you.”

  With wide eyes, Cason tore the black paper and opened the lid to reveal the copper plate I’d gotten made for him.

  “It’s a wallet insert,” I explained as he gaped at me.

  “I love it.” He leaned across the table for a quick peck before reading the engraving under his breath. “As much as I miss you, being yours is worth every mile between us.”

  “I know it isn’t much, but I wanted you to have something for whenever our work separates us.”

  “It’s perfect,” he muttered before clearing his throat. He took out his wallet, placing my gift safely inside. “Thank you, Stormi.”

  “You’re welcome. I love you.”

  Walking up to Brayden Cox’s home, Cason’s hand landed on the small of my back.

  “Have I told you tonight how perfectly that dress fits you?” he whispered in my ear before ringing the doorbell.

  I shot him a modest leer. “You just saw my ass in it, didn’t you?”

  He kissed my cheek. “You know me too well.”

  We were greeted by Karla, Brayden’s better half. “Thank goodness you guys are here. We were starting to think the two of you wouldn’t be able to make it.”

  I gave her a quick hug. “We wouldn’t miss this celebration for the world.”

  Brayden quickly ambled over to us. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. It’s been too long.”

  “You know how busy work gets around this time for both of us,” Cason offered before taking his long-time friend into a total guy hug—short and sweet with a sharp pat on the back. Then he turned to me.

  “One hour and we’re out of here,” Cason muttered under his breath, taking my hand.

  “Deal. It is still our anniversary, after all.”

  “And I have really missed you.”

  Cason pulled me in close before pressing his ravenous lips to mine. Desire flooded in fast, but it was cut short as Myla Hayes darted our way.

  “Oh my goodness! Stormi! I didn’t know you were back in town already.” She grabbed my hands as she bounced on her heels in true Myla fashion.

  “Flew in this afternoon. Couldn’t leave this guy all alone on our anniversary.”

  “No way! How long has it been?” Myla’s voice ticked up an octave as she hugged Cason.

  “Ten years,” I answered.

  “And you’re spending it with us—that’s just so sweet.” Myla was one of the sweetest people I had ever met. Being married to one of the biggest hockey legends the New York Otters had ever seen and the sister of another, she was surprisingly humble. Add in that her father and father-in-law had been famous hockey players in their day and it was shocking how mellow the entire group was.

  I loved hanging out with the Otters; they were a family who continued to open their hearts and homes to anyone and everyone. Being around all of them was thrilling for me. I had gotten into sport journalism because at my core, I was a fan. Luckily, in the company of that group, I wasn’t treated like the press. For a little while, I was able to just be Stormi Bennett, though I did have to keep my inner fangirl quiet.

  Whenever Will Crosby or Chase Harding talked to me, it was hard to not be a tongue-tied, jittering mess.

  We made our rounds, small-talked our asses off, and drank to Brayden’s good health. After the fifth person asked Cason about the prospects he had just checked out at the University of Texas, it was time to say our goodbyes.

  “Are you sure we have to tell them we’re leaving? You know Myla is going to try to guilt us into one more drink, and Jordan will have it in our hands before we have time to protest.” Cason was right, but he knew better.

  All I had to do was give him a knowing stare and he was putty in my hands.
r />   “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  I took his hand, leading him over to where Gavin Hayes was talking with Chase Harding and Will Crosby.

  Be still my heart.

  “Time for us to hit it,” I stated while waving goodbye.

  “Duck out while Myla is in the bathroom,” Gavin warned with a wink.

  “See you all later.”

  Cason shook hands with his former teammates and my heart broke a little. Yes, he had come into his own and was an invaluable recruiter for the franchise, but I knew it wasn’t what he had really wanted. The subtle limp and nagging pain haunted him, even though he was far too stubborn to admit it to anyone, including me.

  Chapter 4

  Cason

  “I have one more surprise for you, Mr. Bennett.” Stormi waggled her hips as we made our way into our apartment at last. It had been nice to see all the Otters and celebrate with Brayden, but all I’d wanted since my wife walked into the bar earlier was to show her how much I had missed her. It didn’t matter if we were apart for a day or a month—any time away from her was too long.

  With work getting in the way so often, my craving for her gnawed at the pit of my stomach constantly. It was a small price to pay for careers we both loved. She had been adamant when we first got together that neither one of us would ever have to give up our ambitions for the other, and so far, it had been working.

  “What’s that?” I questioned as I pulled her petite body into mine.

  A playful smirk played at the corners of her Cupid’s bow.

  “Come with me and you’ll see,” she sang out.

  “I love your goofy ass.” I pinched at her cheek, feeling lace hiding under her dress.