“I’m sorry,” I mouth.
“Later,” he says. “Hallway?”
He gestures to where the locker rooms are. I know what he means. If I have the right pass, I can get back to the hall where the players will exit. I don’t have that pass, but I’ll trust Klaus to take care of it.
The time for me to be afraid, to fear him is gone. I’ve always been able to trust him. It’s just taken me too long to know it.
“I love you,” he mouths again.
“I love you too,” I say it slowly so he can see it and then his smile is almost as blinding as the sun. He gathers his gear he chucked to the ice and skates away.
“That looks like it went well,” my mom says politely, hands folded in her lap.
She’ll never be the emotional woman or overly affectionate mom I always dreamed of. But now I think that’s okay. Seems to me I got enough crazy in us for the both of us.
“It did.” I take my seat next to my dad and am surprised as hell when he reaches over and squeezes my hand.
“Proud of you, for putting yourself out there like that. And I like him. Good job.”
I squeeze his hand back and fight down my own tears. “Thanks, Dad.”
30
Klaus
We win the game easily.
Before I’m stripping out of my gear, I already know I’ve won more.
Jillian loves me. And not only has she finally admitted it to my face, she did it in a ridiculously cheesy way sure to bring her and me attention. It’s a stupid little sign, that says nothing, not when there’s so much for us to talk about, but it also says all it needs to.
She loves me.
We’ll work the rest out.
“You heading to George’s tonight?” Jude asks, passing me in the locker room. “Bunch of us are headed there.”
“Nope. Not tonight.”
“I have a feeling he has his own one-on-one celebration planned.”
I shove Sebastian’s shoulder so hard he falls to the bench.
“Easy, old man.”
“I’m the same age as you.”
“Oh. Then why are you slow out there?”
He punches my thigh playfully from his spot on the bench. “Asshole.”
“Maybe.” I don’t care what they think of me right now. Our team has won. We’re off to a great start and a few of the new players are playing as well as we hoped, if not better, especially Owen Bennard. From Michigan, he’s spent three years working his way through the minors and spent last season at Carolina Ice Kings affiliate team in Missouri. So far, he’s doing so well as the center on my line, giving me confidence we’ll be kicking some serious ass this season. Not that I had much doubt with our already existing talent, but a new season and a new crop of players always brings uncertainty.
Now, all the uncertainty I’ve had for the last month has vanished into a plume of shredded ice.
She loves me.
“So what was that with Jillian earlier?” Sebastian gives me a cocky ass smile. Like he hasn’t already figured it out.
“Remember that thing we do when we get worked up about our women and don’t know what to do?”
“Yeah. Vaguely.”
Because he royally screwed things up with Gigi. Pushed her away when he didn’t want to because he was scared to love her.
“Well I’m smarter than that. And I took care of it on my own.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “You’re a conceited dick.”
“Maybe. But I think I just got the girl, so I’m also a smart dick.”
I finish shredding out of my gear, take the world’s fastest shower known to man and after a talk from our coach, mostly telling us how much work we still have to do, I head out to the hall where families and girlfriends gather.
I find her immediately. All her brown hair pulled up into a knot that’s sticking out of the top of her Ice Kings knitted cap. She’s nibbling her bottom lip, standing off to the side near Sawyer’s wife, Debbie, and their son, Samson.
I’m vaguely aware of Debbie’s existence. Or the fact Jillian’s parents aren’t with her.
I don’t care.
I go to her.
She jolts as I reach her, already placing my hands at her cheeks. “Klaus—”
“You love me?”
Eyes wide, fear trickles in, perhaps because I’ve startled her.
“Yes,” she says, and it’s one word. Three letters.
The best word.
I smash my mouth to hers and lift her off her feet, wrapping one arm around her lower back until I’m bent nearly in half.
Hoots and hollers from my teammates echo in the background, but I keep kissing Jillian like my life depends on it until she pulls back, cheeks flaming hot pink, lips swollen, and eyes shimmering with happiness.
No more fear.
“I love you, too, you know.”
“I know. You’ve shown me all along, I think. I’m sorry—”
I kiss her again. “No apologies. Let me take you home and we’ll talk, okay?”
Setting her on her feet, I playfully tug on her beanie. “I was really glad to see you at the game. Sign or no sign.”
“You played well and I think my dad got into it.”
“Speaking of… where are they?”
“They went home, well, back to my place. But my mom said she’d see me in the morning, so if you want—”
“You’re coming home with me then.”
“And maybe you’ll let me finish a sentence?”
“Perhaps.” I let my gaze show her everything I’m feeling. “Unless we get distracted by other, better activities that don’t involve a lot of talking at all.”
Jillian laughs and it’s beautifully perfect. “That all sounds too good to be true.”
“It’s true.” I lean in and kiss her temple, because she loves me, and now I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop kissing her. “And it will be good. Very good.”
She shivers in my arms, letting me know she feels the exact same way. For once, we’re on the same page.
And it’s perfect.
We enter my house through the laundry room, a room I never use outside dumping my shoes and hockey gear in which means there are piles everywhere and a small pathway to maneuver. Despite the mess, I kick off my shoes and drop my bag and wait impatiently for Jillian to remove her hat, refluff her hair and hang her coat on the door handle. Taking her hand, I pull her to the kitchen where I go to the wine rack on my kitchen counter. It’s always stocked with her favorites.
Without looking, I dig through the drawer, searching for my wine opener. “Drink?”
“Water.”
“I’m sorry?” I look at her over my shoulder and I must look aghast because Jillian laughs.
She shrugs. “I’d rather make sure we’re both sober for tonight.”
What a fantastic idea. “Have some plans for us, do you?”
“Hoping.”
“There’s no need. I am a man at your disposal. Come on. Let’s go sit.” I head toward her and take her hand when she turns on the stool and we make our way to the living room. My couches are enormous, could probably fit most of my team, all spread out, but tonight I don’t give her that option.