I think of how he sat in his office for over an hour on the phone with Jonah. The conversation may have been one-sided as Hunter worked through the Cyclone’s defense and offense and strengths and weaknesses, but you’d never know it. It’s like they had their own way of communicating. You’d think he could actually hear his brother. Even more touching was when Hunter told Jonah to look closely on the coin toss when the cameras pan in and notice how he had written Jonah sideways in the one of his number thirteen so he could be playing with him.
And when Hunter walked out of his office and then house to join his team at the arena, I’ve never seen him more at peace.
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
HUNTER
EXCITEMENT HUMS THROUGH ME LIKE never before.
I can feel the energy of the crowd and the anticipation of a game I’ve waited my whole life to get a chance to play.
“Let’s do this, boys,” I yell as I walk up and slap the shoulder pads of each player on my team. “Start with a win, end with the Cup! Start with a win, end with the Cup!”
They start chanting while we sit on the bench as my adrenaline begins to surge.
I take a glance up to the box. The owners are there. The GM beside them. Finn’s there too. But it’s Dekker I focus on. She’s in the far corner, elbows are resting on the edge as she leans forward, but her eyes are on me.
She blows me a kiss, and I smile in return with a nod.
She loves me.
Me.
Fucking loves me.
“Start with a win, end with the Cup!”
The chant of my teammates brings me back. To the here. To the now.
To the ice beneath my skates.
To the feel of the stick in my hand.
To the chill of the arena on my cheeks.
Just like when Jonah and I were kids.
I’ve got you, brother.
I never stopped.
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
DEKKER
“WHAT’S THIS?” I ASK, AS I look at the gigantic box Hunter’s carrying through my front door.
“Things.”
“Things?” I ask with a laugh.
“Yes, things.” He sets it down on the kitchen counter and pushes it my way.
“Can I open, said, things?” I ask as I toy with its edges.
“Yes.” He presses a kiss to my lips. “I can only stay for your initial reaction and then I’ve got to get to work.”
“Okay.” I draw the word out as I lift the flaps of the box and then a laugh bubbles out when I see the team colors of the Jacks. Like lots of team colors. Black and red on hats and T-shirts and jackets and koozies and pens and everywhere. “Did you mug a vendor?” I ask when my laughter subsides and my sides ache.
“Perhaps,” he says with a shrug of innocence but a smile like the devil.
“And these?” I ask as I pull out a thong—if you can even call them that—with the Jacks logo imprinted on the only spot of fabric big enough to hold it and dangle them off my fingertips. “These are sold in the kiosks?”
“We like to make sure everybody’s covered.”
“Covered being the operative word there,” I say as I hold them with both hands to show how small they are.
“I wouldn’t complain to see how they cover you.” He quirks an eyebrow, and I roll my eyes. “Now there’s no excuse why you can’t wear Jacks gear to the next game.”
“And I told you I only wear it after a team wins.” I toss the thong back in the box and shake my head at the gear. “Besides, why are you pushing this? I thought athletes were superstitious and never liked to jinx anything.”
“We are . . . but sometimes when you feel something in your bones, you just know that no amount of superstition is going to mess with your game.”
“Getting cocky now, are we?”
He takes a step toward me and grabs his crotch. “Why yes, I have a cock.”
“Jesus.” I push against his chest and roll my eyes, but can’t say it’s not a hot sight. “Besides, a lot of players would disagree with you.”
“I’m not a lot of players.” He leans in and presses a kiss to my lips that is unexpected and heartfelt and stokes those fires he’s damn good at sparking to life.
“Thank you for the gear, Mr. Maddox, but while you might not be superstitious, I, for the record, am.” I wink and trail my fingernail down the midline of his chest. “Only after you win.”
“Whatever.” He exhales dramatically. “After we win, I’ll make you wear them every day for a week.”
“A week?”
“A week. And especially those panties.”
I smile. “Deal.”
He kisses me again, his hands wandering to places I want him to not let go of. Everything about the moment is perfectly right.
The Jacks are up in the series three games to two.
The game may be at the opponent’s arena, but it’s only a few hours away so I’ve been able to make every game.
Jonah’s gotten the all-clear and will be at the game tonight.
I love Hunter Maddox.
How does it not get better than that?
“So I’ll see you there?” he asks when he leans back.
“Wild horses wouldn’t be able to drag me away.” I squeeze his hand, glad he’ll have this time tonight to be with his team and see his family before the big game six tomorrow. “And I just might have something for you too.”
“Me?”
“Yep,” I say with a nod as I walk over to grab the legal-sized manila envelope sitting on the counter.
“What’s this?”
“You have to wait to open it.”
“Why?” he asks.
“Because it’s a surprise and if you don’t like it, I don’t want to see your expression.” I laugh, my words partially true.
“It’s that bad?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Okay, if I have to wait to open this, you have to promise me to personally go through this entire box until you find the surprise I left you.”
I eye him, suspicious. “Deal.” I lean in for one more breath-stealing kiss. “Good luck, Maddox.”
“I’m gonna need it.”
“Stick. Skill. Finesse.”
And it’s not until after he leaves and I settle down on my floor with this massive box do I realize just how much crap is packed in there. There are hats and socks and bears and you name it, along with my most favorite thing, a Maddox jersey.
In fact, there are two of them.
But it’s not until I turn the second one over that I see my surprise.
My breath catches and I stare at it for the longest of moments. Tears blur and slip over and my soul sighs in contentment. I reach out with my fingertip and trace the Sharpie block handwriting that fills the number one of the number thirteen on the back of the jersey.
I LOVE YOU TOO.
I sit and stare at it for the longest time. A confession that just made me more whole than I ever thought I could be. An admission I didn’t think he realized he could make.
It takes a few minutes for it to sink in. How hard that must have been for him to pen and probably even harder to admit to. But the minute it does, I run to get my phone to call him, and of course I can’t find it. After a few minutes, I locate it on my bathroom counter and when I do, there’s a text waiting for me on its screen.