Dominik nods thoughtfully but before he can ask any more questions, we’re pulling up to The Sneaky Saguaro.
The chauffeur opens the door, and Dominik nudges Willow to exit first. He then motions for Emory and Jenna to proceed. As I move to slide out, Dominik stops me.
“Just a minute, Sophie,” Dominik says, and I halt. He swivels his head, nods at the driver, and the door is shut. Through the tinted glass, I see Willow, Emory, and Jenna walking in. Jenna glances over her shoulder curiously at us remaining in the limo.
“You left something out,” Dominik says.
I jolt, my eyes snapping to him. “Excuse me?”
“About Baden,” he replies, leaning slightly forward in the seat. “Is he really okay?”
My mind races to find what I could’ve possibly left out in my summation—everything I said was true. Baden is happy with this new phase of his life. Stressed? Yes. Unsure? Of course. But he’s enjoying it.
Then it hits me.
“We went ice skating,” I say, thinking of that magical, fun day when he led me around the rink and was so sure on his skates.
How that surety hit him hard because perhaps he’d walked away from his career too soon.
I tell Dominik all about it, how surprised Baden was by his stability out there.
“It hit him with some doubts that he made the right decision,” I conclude. “I have every confidence he’ll be a great goalie coach. But playing was his passion. His dream. And he wasn’t ready to be done with it.”
Dominik doesn’t hesitate, not an ounce of equivocation in his voice. “He made the right decision. Being stable on skates isn’t a surprise. He worked hard to get his basic mechanics and motor skills back. But that’s a far cry from being on the ice during a game.”
I nod. I think I agree, but I’m not sure. I don’t know enough about it.
“Do I need to talk to Baden about this?” he asks, concern in his voice. “Do I need to reassure him?”
My heart melts a little. I smile and shrug. “Maybe. He respects you so much.”
“I’ll play it by ear tonight.” He then scoots toward the door and pulls the handle, pushing it wide open. He once again sweeps his hand in a motion for me to precede him, and we exit the limo.
I’m not ready for the screams, cheers, and flashing cameras. Somehow in those few minutes of conversation, word must’ve gotten out someone famous was here.
No, not someone famous… Dominik Carlson.
His name is chanted before he even exits.
No surprise, really. He created an expansion team and made them into champions, so he’s as much a star to this city as the players themselves.
But the minute I step out of the limo, some of the cheers give way to boos, and I know it’s my jersey spurring it. Which is poor sportsmanship, especially since the Titans lost tonight.
Dominik appears at my side, buttoning his coat. He glares at the crowd while he tucks my hand in his elbow, making it clear I’m his guest.
Immediately, the booing stops and a vigorous chant starts instead. Vengeance! Vengeance! Vengeance!
Inside, I’m momentarily awed to a standstill by the monstrous but beautiful saguaro cactus that rises through the middle of the two-story restaurant. We’re led up some stairs to the second floor where one whole side has been roped off with multiple tables set up.
Several women are already seated—I assume significant others of the other players. Dominik leads me across the space, handing me over to Willow to make introductions.
Many of the women I know by name, as over the last two weeks I’ve learned a lot about this team and the friends Baden left behind. When you live together, share meals, and talk every day, you learn all kinds of stuff.
For example, when she’s introduced, I know Clarke owns a bookstore and is engaged to Aaron Wylde. Just as I know the gorgeous blond standing next to her, introduced as Veronica, is Riggs’s new girlfriend. I meet Nora, married to Tacker, whose tragic story of loss was known worldwide. Baden told me about how they fell in love and how their surprise wedding last summer was one of the best things he did in the off-season before the attack.
Other women filter in, and we order drinks. Every one of them welcomes me with open arms and a flurry of questions about how Baden is doing. They all care about him.
Legend Bay’s wife, Pepper, asks me point-blank, “Are y’all dating?”
I shake my head. “Just good friends and roommates.”
She studies me, appraising my answer, and I can tell by the calculated look in her eye that she believes me but thinks it odd we’re only friends.
The Vengeance players start arriving, meeting up with their women. Hugs and sometimes passionate kisses abound. I’m introduced as Baden’s friend, Sophie, but they all know who I am.
They know I’m the one he saved, and I’m so grateful that rather than resentment, they treat me with care and grace. More than once I’m told how appreciative they are that I’m in Pittsburgh so he has a friend there.
And then I see Baden walking up the stairs. He’s by himself, and as soon as he hits the landing, he’s mobbed by his former teammates. Hugs, backslaps, and crude jokes—he gets hammered with it all, including lots of ribbing about his new team’s loss tonight.
But I notice him looking around, and when his eyes land on me, he actually pushes past one of the guys with a pat on the shoulder and comes my way.
I feel like everyone is watching, and they probably are. But I’m breathless as Baden walks closer and stops toe to toe with me. He cups my elbow with his hand and peers down at me. “You good? Everything okay?”
He’s asking if I’m coping okay with being in this city, going to a game, and being surrounded by strangers, any of which might trigger my fears.
“I’m good,” I say with a smile. “Sorry about the game.”
“We’ve got work to do,” he replies with a slight grimace. “You need a drink?”
“I have one.” I throw my thumb over my shoulder toward the table.
“I’ll meet you over there,” he says, squeezing my elbow. “Let me get a beer.”
Baden walks away, and I look around. Indeed, everyone is watching us, although their eyes hastily avert.
It appears I’m not the only one wondering if Baden and I are something more than just friends.
CHAPTER 20
Baden
Just like the old days. Hanging with friends, celebrating a win—except in my case, the loss is in my column.
Still, this brings back the happiest of memories before my injuries, and I relish it.
I’m at a table with Erik, Dax, Riggs, and Kane. The seat next to me has been occupied most of the evening by Sophie, but she moved off a few minutes ago when Emory and Jenna called her over to their table. It appears Jenna and Sophie have hit it off, and that makes me happy as now Jenna will have two means of support in Pittsburgh. I haven’t had a chance to talk to her much, but Sophie assured me she’s on top of things.
“You look amazing, man,” Erik says before putting a beer to his lips and taking a long pull.
“Your team sucks, though,” Kane lobs with a playful punch to my shoulder.
“Fuck off,” I reply in good nature. I know they want me to succeed, and we all know that it’s going to take some time for the new Titans to find their footing.