“What did he say?”
My sigh is heavy. “There were a lot of tears and hugs and reassurances that there was no way I was at fault . . . but I still worried.”
“I’m sorry.” He presses a kiss to my temple, and the warmth of his breath hits my scalp.
“Don’t be. It’s life, I guess. You live and you think you know one thing until you learn another. Guilt can be a nasty, ugly bitch, but it can also pull people together.”
A silence falls between us. One full of mutual respect and understanding that we’re each lost in our own pasts, our own memories, our own reasons for our guilt.
“No more sadness,” I say suddenly, needing to shake the vibe. “Sadness is definitely not what you need before the big game tomorrow. How are you feeling about the matchup? You haven’t really spoken about it.”
“I’d name it after my brother, you know.” His words give me whiplash and it takes me a second to realize he’s talking about the arena. “‘The Jonah Maddox Hockey Facility.’ We’d make it the premier place to train for sled hockey,” he says, referring to a modified version of ice hockey for those with physical disabilities. “We’d have camps for kids who are paralyzed, so they could forget the confines of their chairs for a while. No cost to their families. I’d get some of my teammates and friends in the league to come visit them. We’d make it easy for them. The equipment, the access—all the things most kids who want to play need but can’t get at other places.”
My heart swells, and I can’t hide the tears over the purposeful thought he’s put into renovating this place. And when he looks over at me, there are tears in his eyes too, and that heart of mine swells so large it virtually falls out of my chest, landing at his feet.
Not that I mind since right now, in this moment, I know it is pretty much already his.
“I think it’s going to be amazing.” I smile through the tears as he reaches out and links his fingers with mine. Such a simple action, but there’s intimacy in the moment and it’s perfect. Quiet and subtle.
“You do?”
I nod, realizing this is Hunter’s way of letting his brother live on forever. This is his way of holding him close when the earth no longer can. “What better way than to let him be a part of the sport he loved while getting to be with his best friend?”
His smile is automatic. The bob of his Adam’s apple reflecting the emotion that he’s trying to keep at bay.
“I think you could even create a charity in his name, some kind of scholarship, or something like that. Something for your mom to be a part of. It might give her an outlet after. . .” Jonah passes. I twist my lips and hate that my mind went there, but I can’t imagine living your whole life for someone and then suddenly having a life for yourself but a future without the person you cared for in front of you. I avert my eyes the minute my voice fades off, because Hunter knew what I was going to say and now I feel like shit.
“That’s a good idea.” His voice is soft but sincere.
“This place is not only going to be Jonah’s legacy,” I say and squeeze his hand, “but yours too.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
HUNTER
“HEY MADDOX.” HER VOICE JOLTS me from my focus as I walk toward the locker room and stops me in my tracks.
I turn and find her leaning against a wall. She has jeans on.
“Where’s your Jacks gear?”
“Where’s your Stanley Cup?” she asks, her smile wide, her tone playful in the reminder of the Dartmouth game when she told me she’d only wear it when I won a Stanley Cup.
“I’m working on it.” I laugh and walk over to her. “What are you doing here?” I ask, confused and surprised as every emotion in between surges through me.
“Did you really think I was going to miss your first playoff game?”
“You said you had a client who—”
“I know what I said,” she murmurs as she angles her head to the side. The sunlight highlights her hair and the gold lights up like a halo. There’s a thump in my chest, and Christ if this woman doesn’t do things to me I never expected. “But I’m here.”
“Dropping your duties as an agent, huh? Poor client.”
“No, dropping an agent’s duty falls along the line of Sanderson,” she teases.
But it’s out there. The first damn time she’s brought anything up about agents or my agent or any of the shit that’s Sanderson’s job since that night that feels like months ago. The night when we stood outside of whatever fucking arena and she told me the truth about why she was there. About how she feared telling me would ruin whatever this was between us.
“Sanderson drops the ball?” I ask with a smile on my lips.
“So I’ve heard.” She nods.
“And you? Do you drop the ball?”
The slow run of her tongue over her bottom lip and the devious look in her eyes tells me exactly what she’s thinking about. How the last time we saw each other, her lips were wrapped around my cock as her fingers gripped pleasurably firm around my balls.
“If you have to ask, Maddox, then I’m doing things all wrong.” Her voice is liquid sex, the smile that crawls over her lips not far from it either.
I groan in response.
“You win tonight and we’ll see if I drop the balls again or not.”
“We’ll win. No worries there. And I’ll be the judge of your grip.” I glance over my shoulder and lift a hand to Katz as he walks into the arena. “Hey Dekk?”
“Hmm?”
I take a step forward and lean in. “I never brought up the agent thing because you said it was either one or the other. You as mine or you as my agent. I’m not sure if that’s still true.”
“Oh.” Her lips shock in an O, and I take the chance to steal a quick kiss before taking a step back and smiling.
“Thanks for coming.” I wink. “I’ve got to go.”
“Good luck,” she says as I start walking away. “Hey, Cap?”
“Yeah?” I turn back to give her one more glance.
“Take a moment and let it all sink in. It’ll go by in a flash, and I want you to remember it.”
I nod and turn back toward the door.
“Stick, skill, finesse, Maddox.”
I throw my head back and laugh.
* * *
Nerves rattle and I’m never nervous.
Sticks tap on the ice—the only kind of clapping we can hear while we’re in the zone, and yet right now I hear everything.
The crowd.
The buzz.
I look up into the stands and see the people. The little kids wanting to be in my skates someday. The dads with their daughters teaching them the ins and outs of the game. The college frat boys needing an excuse to get drunk and heckle a player. The families wanting to be entertained.
I take it all in.
The sounds, the sights, the excitement.
This is for you, Jonah. And for once, I can see your smile.
I’m going to make you proud.
So maybe . . . maybe, this is for us.
CHAPTER SIXTY
DEKKER
ALL EYES FOCUS ON ME.