by S. R. Grey
She’s my forever too.
I know that now.
That leads me to thinking about what our shared future should hold.
I ponder that thought throughout the night and into the next day.
Even as the first round of hockey playoffs gets underway, Cricket and hockey are the only two things on my mind.
In that order too—my relationship these days comes before all else, even my job that I love.
It’s just that I love Cricket more, as it should be.
That’s why, after about a week or so, I have an idea of where she and I should go from here.
I’m waiting for the right time to make my next move, though.
It won’t be today.
We have a playoff game tonight.
It’s game four against our first round opponents—the San Jose Sharks.
We’ve done real well against them and are up 3-0 in the series.
They’ve lost every game so far.
I actually feel kind of bad for them.
Wait, nah, fuck those guys.
The Wolves as a team are unstoppable.
It’s hard to beat us right now.
We’re firing on all cylinders, as am I.
Later, when I’m in the locker room readying for the game, it’s clear the energy is high.
My teammates are wound up, and the crowd out in the seats sounds loud.
I love it, though.
This is what it’s all about.
Blake is seated next to me, lacing up his skates.
I’m already dressed, so I’m working on taping my stick.
“You ready for tonight?” he asks, glancing over at me.
I nod. “Yeah. Let’s close this one out.”
“I think we will,” he says. “I have a good feeling.”
I finish with my stick and set the tape down on the bench, telling him, “Same here.”
We’re not the only confident ones in the room. Brent, our captain, wants to give us an inspirational speech before we go out on the ice.
“Gather round,” he says, standing before us.
We huddle in.
Clearing his throat, he says, “Guys, we’ve been here before. And there have been two outcomes. Two years ago, we played as a unit, like the great team we are. We went all the way and won the motherfucking Stanley Cup.”
“Hell, yeah!” someone yells out.
“You bet your ass we did,” another guy, I think it’s Benny, says.
Brent has to stop with all the cheering and whooping and hollering that ensues.
Eventually the room quiets down.
He goes on then, adopting a more somber tone. “Then there was last year. We went out in the second round.” Now there’s a cacophony of boos and groans. “Okay, okay, enough. Let’s not dwell on the negative. But let’s not fall apart again. We know we’re the best team in the league. Still, even if we win tonight—and we fucking better—we have to get through three more rounds. We do that, boys, and we’ll be hoisting up Lord Stanley once again. So let’s get out there and do this, yeah?”
The room erupts in shouts and cheers.
I don’t think we could be more pumped than we are right now.
When we hit the ice, our fans go crazy.
The arena is rockin’ tonight, and we feed off the energy, skating around in the flashing lights with upbeat music blaring.
By the time the first puck drops, the energy is coursing through me, even though I’m on the bench for now.
Brent’s top line, composed of him, Nolan, and Benny, is up first.
They don’t score, but neither do the Sharks’ top line.
Coach Townsend sends my line out next.
Yes!
With Sebastian centering, Blake on right wing, me on the left, and two good defensemen, I feel like one of us is bound to make something happen.
Again, there’s just that special feel in the air.
Sure enough, real fucking fast, there’s a breakdown in the Sharks’ defense, and Sebastian and I enter their zone in a two-on-one situation.
Sebastian passes the puck to me, and I shoot it toward the net.
Holy hell, the motherfucker goes in!
Goal!
“Fuck, yeah!”
I just drew first blood.
That wording turns out to be prophetic, as it’s a bloodbath from there. The Wolves score three more unanswered goals in the second period.
By the time the third period rolls around, we go into defensive lockdown mode and the Sharks can’t score.
“That’s how it’s done,” Coach Townsend tells us when we’re back on the bench. “This is textbook perfect, boys. Keep it up.”
We do.
When we win the game, we all jump over the boards and skate over to our goaltender to congratulate him on the shutout.
We also celebrate among ourselves, then we line up for the obligatory handshake with the Sharks’ players.
I know some of the guys on the other team, so there’s no animosity on my part.
“Hey, no hard feelings,” one says. “Congratulations.”
I reply, “Thanks, man.”
It goes on like that until the lines dwindle down. And then we head off to our respective locker rooms.
It’s obviously celebratory in ours, and I’m beyond happy.
I don’t share this with anyone, but there’s another reason for my joy—the time finally feels right to make my next move with Cricket.
And, man, is it going to be a doozy.
She was up in a luxury box with her friend, Bettina, watching the game.
We’re supposed to meet up back at my place in a few.
But I have another idea.
Grabbing my phone from my locker stall, I text Cricket, Hey, you feel like going out and celebrating tonight?
She writes back, Yeah, sure. What do you have in mind?
Me: How about something we haven’t done in a while?
Cricket: Er, okay, I think. But I may need more details before I say yes.
Me: Right, lol. Anyway, I thought it might be fun to go play some blackjack. It’s been a while. What do you think?
Cricket: Sure, I’m up for that. It sounds fun. Do you mean we’ll go to the same private VIP room where we first met?
Me: You know me so well. I was thinking exactly that.
Cricket: Cool, let’s do it. Bettina was planning on dropping me off at your house since she drove tonight, but I can just send her on her way and meet you outside the locker room. We can head straight over to the casino.
Me: Perfect, babe. Just give me about twenty minutes.
We wrap up, and I start taking off my equipment.
Cricket has no idea, but I have an idea for a bet I’m going to make with her tonight, one that I absolutely must win.
The future of us depends on it.
What Is My Man Up To?
As I slip my phone back into my purse, I have one thing on my mind—What is my man up to?
I mean, I’m more than willing to go out and celebrate, and I always have fun beating Landen’s ass in cards—hee hee—but I sense there’s something more at play with this outing.
I share my plans and my thoughts with Bettina before we leave the luxury box, and she says, “Who knows? But I’m sure if Landen is up to something, it’s nothing bad.”
I wave my hand around. “Oh, no, I know that. I just wish I had some idea of what he has in mind.”
After thinking it over, she says, “Well, your birthday is coming up soon, right? Maybe he’s planning on surprising you with a cake.”
Frowning, I reply, “No, I don’t think it’s that. My birthday isn’t till May, and that’s almost a month away.”
Clearly at a loss, Bettina shrugs. “I don’t know, then, hon.”
We drop the subject, and I resign myself to the fact I just need to go with the flow and quit trying to guess what Landen has up his sleeve. Like Bettina said, I’m sure it’s nothing bad. I’m just an overly curious
person, I guess.
With the subject dropped, Bettina and I say our goodbyes, and she takes off.
I head downstairs to the locker room, where the security guy on the elevator nods to me, having recognized that I’m allowed to go down to that level.
As indicated in his texts, Landen is waiting for me outside the locker room double doors. He looks extremely happy, and I have the feeling it’s not simply due to the great game he and the team just played.
Still, I am quick to acknowledge the performance with a loose hug.
“Hey,” I say, stepping back. “You guys kicked some incredible ass out there tonight.”
Smoothing down the front of his hunter green dress shirt, the color of which really brings out the pretty sage shade of his eyes, he says, “We did. It felt good too. We were firing on all cylinders.”
“Wolves all the way,” I chime in, pumping my fist in the air. “Yay!”
That makes Landen chuckle. “Babe, you really are the best.”
“Why, thank you,” I say, batting my eyelashes coquettishly.
I love playing around with Landen. He’s not only hot and sexy; he has an amazing playful side.
Holding out his arm for me to take, he says, “Shall we go?”
“Yes, let’s do it.” I wind my arm within his and add, “By the way, I can’t wait to beat you in cards tonight.”
Landen laughs jovially. “Confident, aren’t we?”
Bumping his leg with my hip, I say, “You know it.”
Outside in the players’ parking lot, we hop into his Ferrari.
We’re then off to the Vegas Strip, where I plan to not only win all the money but also I’ll finally find out what Landen is really up to with this impromptu gambling date.
Upping the Ante
We arrive at the casino where Cricket and I first met.
I’ve chosen it so I can “up the ante.”
We head inside through the back entrance, and security whisks us to the VIP room.
This is all mainly so I don’t have to stop and sign autographs or take selfies with excited fans.
I’m always accommodating, but tonight I have a bigger purpose and I need to focus.
I have to chuckle, as Cricket still has no idea what I’m up to.
I think she may suspect something is in the works, though.
Still, she has no clue as to what it could be.
I can’t wait to surprise her.
She will be floored.
Smiling discreetly, I take her hand, and we walk over to our favorite blackjack table.
Bettina is obviously not working, as she was at the game with Cricket. There’s an older dude here tonight, dealing the cards.
As Cricket and I take side-by-side seats at the table, I give her a quick peck on the cheek.
“Good luck,” I say.
“Ha!” She laughs. “I’m not going to need it. As you are well aware, I’m already quite lucky.”
“We’ll see,” I cryptically comment.
There’s a new game starting, so we’re able to get in on it.
A waitress swings by to see if we’d like anything to drink.
“Just a soda water,” Cricket tells her.
I ask for the same.
I want to be as coherent as possible when I spring my surprise.
Maybe if all goes well, we’ll have champagne afterward.
But for now, we play cards.
I win the first game, but the guy on my left is victorious the next.
There are five people playing initially, but eventually we’re down to three.
I win a couple more rounds, and Cricket wins a total of five times.
She’s on a hot streak tonight.
It’s daring for me to even think about the bet I’m planning.
But hey, I’m a risk-taker.
Besides, when the guy on my left leaves, I like my chances.
“Guess it’s down to just the two of us,” Cricket says.
Winking over at her, I reply, “That’s okay. That’s my favorite way to play with you.”
“I agree,” she replies in a sultry tone. “It’s mine too.”
We both clearly mean more than cards, but cards are what are on the table right now…in more ways than one.
The dealer passes out our next hands.
I check mine—I have a king of hearts and a jack of clubs.
That’s twenty.
This is really good.
Now is definitely the time to make my move.
I’m upping the ante for sure now.
But I’m hedging my bet.
Looking over at Cricket, I notice her checking her cards discreetly.
She smiles.
Hmm, I wonder what she has.
It could be twenty-one, but I doubt it.
Clearing my throat, I ask her, “Are you up for one of our little side wagers?”
Peering over at me with a smug-as-fuck expression, she replies, “For sure. Let’s do it.”
I qualify, “We’ll keep it a secret till a winner is declared, yeah?”
She nods. “Like usual, yes.”
I then remark, “You sound pretty confident, babe.”
Snickering, she says, “That’s because I am confident, Landen.”
Shit, she is.
Now I’m really wondering what she has.
If it’s twenty-one, I’m fucked.
Both of us hold, so it must be something good.
I had better fucking win.
The dealer flips his cards—he has eighteen.
He holds.
Cricket and I look at each other.
“Ladies first,” I say.
“Fine.”
She’s damn confident as she flips her cards over.
But I’m the one smiling when I see she has a king and a nine—that’s only nineteen.
I win!
I flip my cards over and smirk my ass off.
Cricket rolls her eyes at me. “Okay, okay, what have I lost this time?”
“Maybe nothing,” I reply, shrugging. “With what I’m about to ask for, I think we’re both going to come out winners.”
She’s peering at me intently now, her azure eyes filled with curiosity.
“So what is it?” she asks. “Tell me what you want from me.”
“Among a lot of things,” I say in a rush of words, “I want you to marry me.”
Her eyes grow wide, and the dealer chuckles.
“What did you just say?” Cricket rasps.
“You heard me. Should I drop down to one knee and make it more official?”
I don’t wait for her answer, I just do it.
I ask her again for her hand in marriage.
“I don’t have a ring yet,” I explain. “But we can fix that real soon. That is, if you say yes.”
Softly and with happy tears in her eyes, she tells me what I long to hear. “Yes.”
Teasing, I cup my hand behind my ear. “What’s that, Cricket? I’m not sure I heard.”
“Oh, stop being silly,” she pshaws. “I said yes, I’ll marry you.”
I stand then, readying to hug and kiss her, but I hesitate. “Wait. You’re not just saying yes because of the bet, right?”
With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she says, “Well, I do always make good on my wagers.”
“Hey!”
She starts laughing and tugging me to her. “Come here, you. You know I’m just kidding.”
“Yeah, I do.”
I do know it.
That’s why I just crash my lips down on hers.
It’s our first kiss as an engaged couple.
And does it ever feel good.
There’s no panic, no reservations, no second-guessing, nothing but pure love.
I Didn’t See This One Coming
Okay, I knew Landen was up to something.
But I sure didn’t see this one coming.
He wants me to marry him?
He sure didn’t have to engage me—no
pun intended—in one of his side bets to get me to say yes to that.
But he needs to hear it.
So, choking up, I murmur, “Yes.”
He pretends not to be clear on my answer, cupping his ear. “What’s that, Cricket? I’m not sure I heard.”
“Oh, stop being silly,” I reply. “I said yes, I’ll marry you.”
He stands but then hesitates. “Wait. You aren’t just saying yes because of the bet, right?”
Okay, now it’s my turn to tease him.
Tapping my chin, I say, “Well, I do always make good on my wagers.”
“Hey!”
I smile, pulling him to me. “Come here, you. You know I’m just kidding.”
Sheepishly, he admits, “Yeah, I do.”
He wastes no time in kissing me then.
And wow, what a kiss it is!
Even the dealer lets out a low whistle.
At last, we break apart.
With his forehead pressed to mine, Landen asks, “Do you want to cash out and go home?”
“Yes,” I say. “But to whose home?”
He straightens, placing his hands on my shoulders.
With much seriousness in his tone, he says, “They’ll both be our homes soon, right?”
I nod. “That’s true.”
They will be once we’re married.
Holy crap!
That’s when it really hits me—I’m marrying Landen freaking Zehner!
It makes me feel so good to know we’re engaged and our lives are now intertwined more than ever.
Since I can’t wait to get Landen to any house at this point, simply so I can attack him and devour his hot ass, I suggest the closer one. “Let’s go to your place.”
He raises a brow. “You mean our place.”
“Yes, yes”—I laugh—“our place that happens to be in your name.”
“For now,” he replies. “It’s in my name only for the time being, Cricket.”
Wow, this is what “real” feels like.
This is what “happiness” feels like.
And this is what “forever” feels like.
Forever
The very next day, Cricket and I agree on a reputable local jewelry store where we can pick out her engagement ring.
I considered going on my own, but it’s not like the ring needs to be a surprise.