Hooked: A Hockey Romance

by Abby Donne

  As soon as she gave him the directions to her room he was off. It was later in the day now and there were more people filling the waiting room. There was only one set of eyes on her, though, and they belonged to the only person who really mattered. Tyson filled the space in front of her Heath left vacant, pulling her into his hold. He rocked them back and forth for a minute, his chin resting on the top of her head.

  Everything wasn’t magically fixed by his presence but things felt better. It felt like she’d be able to get through this. The pain, the questions, the heartache. With time she’d be able to understand Emma and learn how to help her cope. There was no Band-Aid solution, but after talking with Emma she knew this was the first step. The most important step.

  “Hey,” Tyson muttered as he rubbed her back. “How about we head to your place? We can shower and try to get a little sleep.”

  “Okay.” She tilted her head and looked up at him, more than ready to at least wash some of the grime off her body. He offered the smallest smile and she couldn’t help but mutter, “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” His eyes sparkled gold, even under the fluorescent lights in the room. “Everything is going to work out. I promise, okay?”

  He linked their pinkies together, lifted their hand, and kissed her fingers. He could promise all he wanted but she wasn’t convinced and that was okay. Just having him there was enough. Whatever the future held Layla knew she wouldn’t be going through it alone. She had Tyson. Tyson who held her hand when times were tough. Tyson who kissed her silly in pumpkin patches. Tyson who was there to hold her through the night.

  And that was all she needed.

  epilogue

  “Are you nervous?”

  Tyson laughed and slowed to a stop on the path. He stepped off to the side – not that there was really anyone else in that part of the garden but them – and pulled her into his arms. “For tomorrow? No. I’ve told you a thousand times; whatever happens, happens.”

  “You’re only saying that because you know you’re projected –”

  “Don’t jinx it!” He rushed, trying to put his hand over her mouth.

  Layla stuck her tongue out and he pulled his hand back. “I thought you weren’t superstitious.”

  “I’m not as superstitious.” Big difference. He sure as hell wasn’t planning on stopping his pregame make out sessions with Layla. Ever. She was his lucky charm. Tyson was pretty sure the only reason they won the championship and kicked Bemidji State’s ass was because he made it to second base with Layla in the locker room. “I’m still not letting you say it out loud. Sorry babe.”

  “I’m just proud of you,” She hummed. She stepped back and spread her arms, a big smile on her face. “I knew you’d make it here, but it’s crazy to see it happening. To get to experience it with you.”

  This was his chance. God, she was stunning. Layla was beautiful on any given day but tonight she was a fucking dream. Dressed in a white and blue floral little piece that clung to her while still making her look like she was straight of some magazine from the sixties, a pair of royal blue heels, and the Tiffany pendant he got her for Christmas he was still paying off… she was something else.

  Earlier in the day they woke up in their hotel room in downtown Dallas and decided to play tourist. They spent an hour waiting in line for donuts at some hip food truck a block away from their room. Took too many pictures at the Sculpture Center. Visited the aquarium. Checked out the Sixth Floor Museum. Ate lunch at this trendy vegan spot – Layla’s choice but they had a menu of craft smoothies he liked. Hit up not one but four vintage shops she found via some Instagram page. Since they were meeting his family for dinner at a rooftop grill later in the night they decided to, after a not so quick quickie, get dressed and spend an hour Arboretum.

  It was Tyson’s plan all along to end their touristy day at the gardens. They closed early, but in his research he knew Layla would love it. And she did. It was the perfect place to ask her to marry him. The ring had been burning a hole in his pocket all day. They passed up a half dozen other perfect opportunities, but he’d been planning this for at least two months. It had to be perfect. She deserved nothing less.

  Tyson captured Layla’s hands in his and nudged her to spin around. “You’re a vision, Layla.”

  “Perhaps.” She did a little curtsey before returning to his arms. “You’re only such a sweet talker when you want something, and it took far too long for me to get dolled up so you’re definitely not defiling me until after dinner. What do you want?”

  “Nothing! I just love you.”

  “And I just love you. What’s going on Tyson?”

  Now or never. Why the hell was he so nervous? He never got nervous.

  Meeting her eyes he started to lower to one knee. The moment realization dawned on her face and she didn’t bolt the opposite direction he felt a little more settled, more confident. If he was ever going to make Layla cry, this was the way to do it. He hadn’t even asked and she was already fanning her face.

  “What if I said I want you to experience it all with me? Forever? I can’t imagine going into this without you by my side, Layla. I can’t imagine going into anything without you. I know we’re young and we haven’t been together very long, but I also know you are my favorite part of every day. We made it through this year together, and I want a hundred more. Layla, will you marry me?”

  “Oh my God, yes! Duh, yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

  Tyson wasn’t sure if anything felt as good as slipping the ring on her finger. Not being on the ice. Not winning. Not even being inside her. Okay, that felt better. This was a close second. No matter what happened with the draft, no matter what happened after… Tyson knew this was where he was supposed to be.

  Even though he wouldn’t let Layla speak the words out loud, Tyson knew everything would change within twenty four hours. Again. In just sixty seconds he went from being Tyson Briggs, college graduate with one very important job prospect to Tyson Briggs, engaged college grad with an important job prospect. In another day’s time he hoped to make that Tyson Briggs, newly engaged college graduate and first round pick to the Anaheim Royals. That’s what all the blogs were saying…. And Jordan. He seemed pretty confident with the pick.

  Whatever happened, he had Layla, and he sure as hell couldn’t wait to show her how thankful he was for her every day for the rest of their lives. Royals or no Royals, he was already living his dream.

  It was way too hot in the stadium. She was chalking her irritation up to the heat and not her lack of sleep – um, hello, how was she going to say no to sunrise sex on the balcony with Tyson? – and the cameras that kept panning over to her. Layla knew she needed to get used to someone always watching. Even though the spotlight on Tyson grew over the last few months it still wasn’t in her face. Now? It was literally in her face.

  “Are you nervous?” The cute reporter a in a little black dress to die for asked her, shoving the microphone a little closer to Layla’s mouth.

  Despite being totally and utterly annoyed, she smiled. She had to, for one. And she couldn’t help but think of saying those exact words to Tyson the night before. Pulling a page from his book she laughed and said, “Whatever happens, happens.”

  “Oh come on. You’re telling me you’re not the least bit worried? Tyson is a late stage entry. He’s competing with kids seventeen, eighteen years old.”

  She said it like they were auditioning for a runway instead of being picked to play a contact sport for heaven’s sake.

  “So what? That just means he’s had a few more years to develop his skills. He didn’t get Stanberry a cup championship and get named The Felder Player of the Year because he has rank on anyone. He’s more mature on the ice than some of these guys, and I think that gives him a definite advantage.”

  Layla needed a big old glass of cold brew and maybe a shot of tequila for good measure. They’d been at the stadium for hours. It was fun at first. Tyson had some cool photo ops and did some interviews. The
novelty of it wore off the minute she started sweating through her dress and her hair started falling down. Luckily Tara was a teenage girl and kept an arsenal of beauty products in her purse, but they could only do so much with a travel size hairspray and some makeup wipes. Now she was standing next to a perfect looking brunette while she was half falling apart and like, forty percent miserable.

  “Earlier today Tyson referred to you as his fiancée. Any details you’re willing to share, girl to girl? Congratulations, by the way.”

  Well, shit. She couldn’t be bitchy now. Layla was still riding a post-engagement high. Honestly, she never expected him to get down on one knee. Not for a few years at least. He wasn’t anti-commitment, obviously, even though he claimed she was the exception to all his rules. They’d only been together nine months, and they were facing a total life shift. Planning a wedding in all of that seemed like an unnecessary headache.

  But the last nine months felt like an eternity, really.

  After Emma’s suicide attempt she spent an extra month in the psychiatric ward. She had to postpone the rest of her semester, obviously, and it was absolutely hell not being able to text or call her. Layla visited her as often as she could. Heath was basically always there. If anything good came from that night it was those two finally admitting their feelings for each other. It was Emma who convinced Heath dropping out his last year would do no good for anyone, especially not Jackson. He did, however, leave the team. It really messed with Tyson, but it was for the best. He got a part time job at a warehouse as soon as he officially left the team. The internship he got his last semester was paid, too, unlike those offered for a lot of other majors.

  Tyson started his internship that winter, too. He helped out the athletic director at the high school. When Layla’s internship in Columbus started after Christmas break they went from not seeing one another to really not seeing one another. He kind of unofficially moved into her apartment, so they got a lot of evenings together. Even stolen moments at midnight were precious to Layla. She didn’t want to waste any time with Tyson.

  That’s probably why she was so accepting of the whole marriage thing. It wasn’t like she would say no in any universe, but if the last fall taught her anything it was to enjoy every minute she had with the people she loved.

  Late last night when the excitement finally wore down and they were in bed they decided on a long engagement. Layla loved Tyson. She knew he loved her. But they didn’t have to rush into a marriage. Just having that little extra bit of commitment was enough. Calling Tyson her boyfriend always felt a bit juvenile. He’d always been more. Even before everything happened with Emma, he was more.

  “Layla?”

  “Oh. Sorry. I’m just getting a little overheated. It’s a lot hotter in Texas than it is in Ohio,” She said lamely. The microphone was still under her nose so she pinched another smile and added, “Thank you, but right now Tyson and are keeping our private lives private. He’s here for his abilities on the ice. I think that’s what needs to be celebrated.”

  Gag her with a hockey stick, did she really say that? It seemed to appease the reporter enough to thank her for her time and walk off for the next unsuspecting victim. There wasn’t a whole lot of time until she needed to find her seat with the whole Briggs clan, but she was pretty sure without water she was going to have a heatstroke.

  Finding the water was the easy part, apparently. Finding her way back to her seat proved to be far more difficult. The venue was pretty empty when they arrived earlier in the day, but now it was full of everyone from fans to hot shots in the industry. It was impossible to visualize where their seats were, let alone find them. She was one wrong turn away from sending out an SOS text when familiar arms wrapped around her.

  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” He muttered, hugging her tight to his chest. He rocked them from side to side. "I'm sorry I kind of went MIA.”

  “I didn’t expect you to be by my side all day. You’re one of the men of the night. They tell me you’re a big shot.”

  “Oh, you didn’t know?” His voice held something darker, a little sultrier. It made her entire body clench.

  “Don’t turn me on right now,” She scolded, turning in his arms. She so didn’t mean it. Plus, it was really hard to not get a little hot and bothered by Tyson when he was looking like a ten out of ten in his perfectly fitted grey suit. Layla knew she sounded totally unconvincing when she said, “It’s so rude of you, especially when I know you won’t do anything about it.”

  “Are you challenging me? Because I will one hundred percent fuck you in the bathroom right now, hands down.”

  “Maybe after they call your name.”

  He groaned and kissed her in a way that wasn’t appropriate for a public setting, let alone one where there were cameras trained on them. “Come on, then. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  Not a moment too soon because the commissioner took stage just as they were lowering into their seats with Tyson’s family. Tyson’s dad leaned over and said something to him, but Tyson just shrugged while wearing the goofiest smile. It was the kind of smile that made her heart flutter. The kind of smile she’d get to see for the rest of her life.

  Layla laced their fingers together and squeezed his hand. He looked over and mouthed, “Everything okay?”

  She nodded.

  Everything was perfect.

  “With the eight pick of the twenty eighteen NHL draft the city of Anaheim would like to thank Dallas for their hospitality. On behalf of The Royals, I would like to welcome Tyson Briggs from Stanberry University as their first round pick…”

  about the author

  Abby Donne lives in Ohio with her husband and three cats. By day, she runs a restaurant. By night… well, she still runs a restaurant. It’s an on call kind of gig. In what little free time she has, Abby enjoys watching documentaries and true crime shows and catching up on her incredibly long backlog of books. She’s kind of a coffee snob and thinks Halloween should be celebrated year round.

  Follow me on Twitter at abbydonnewrites or notawiitch

  And if you want to chat, you can email me at abbydonnewrites@gmail.com

  As always, thank you so much for taking

  the time to read my book. If you enjoyed this book,

  please leave a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads.