Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 100294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Grant tackles me from behind, and the pile of bodies buries me in blue and gold. I shove through my teammates, through the coaches, to get back up, but I’ve got to make my final goal tonight, and I haven’t just yet, but I’m lining myself up for the shot.
The announcer is saying something about MVP, about records, about my future, and about the NHL scout in the stands who flew in to watch me play. It’s not that I don’t care, because I do. I’ve come to love the game more than I thought I ever could. It’s no longer a means to an end. Madeline changed that for me. Her presence in my life makes even the smallest things more enjoyable. But hockey and everything else will have to wait tonight. That’s not where I’m at right now. There are more important things to take care of.
A microphone is shoved in my face, and for once, I pause for it. They’re actually surprised, thinking they were going to have to run along beside me, so when I reach for the mic, they let me take it, the arena lights blinding. I blink a few times, letting my eyes adjust so I can have them on my girl again.
Madeline is standing behind the glass, watching me curiously, her hair a mess from cheering. She’s got my number painted on her cheek, and she’s wearing a jersey with my last name across the back, which one day will be hers too. She’s beautiful. She’s mine. And I’m done waiting.
“Thanks,” I say into the mic, cutting the interviewer off before they can ask me a question. “But I need to ask my girl something first.” I keep my eyes locked with hers.
The arena goes quiet, confused but nosy as fuck, wanting to know what I’m up to. I never jump on a mic. Ever.
I can feel Bennett’s eyes on me from the stands; he already knows that I’m going to do it. Grant’s laughing somewhere behind me.
I look straight at her. The camera finds her, putting her face up on the jumbotron, her eyes wide with anticipation. That little crease forming between her eyebrows means she’s trying to figure out what I’m doing.
“Madeline Pearson,” I say, and my voice echoes through the whole building, through however many thousands of people are watching this on local sports networks. Perfect. The more the better. “Will you go to prom with me?”
She blushes. Actually blushes, this girl who faced down a killer with a skate blade in her hand. Who can talk to a room full of anyone. I love that I can still make her do that. She nods, laughing, and the arena erupts in cheers, whistles, and someone shouting, “SAY YES ALREADY.”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I say into the mic, grinning at my girl.
She’s shaking her head, smiling that smile she saves for me, the one that says I’m ridiculous and she wouldn’t have me any other way.
I bring the mic back up. “Also,” I add, fast, before anyone can stop me, “she’s going to marry me too. Just so everyone’s clear on that.” There, now the entire world will know so there’s no question.
The crowd loses it. Madeline covers her face with her hands, shoulders shaking with laughter, but I can see her peeking through her fingers. She drops them long enough to shoot me that look, the eye roll, and the pretend exasperation, the you’re impossible that she doesn’t mean for a second.
She loves it. She loves me. All of me, even the parts that are too much, too loud, and too desperate to keep her.
I hand the mic back to the announcer, finally ready to answer his questions about the game, about the scouts, and about my future. But my real future is already standing right there, wearing my number, blushing on national television because I can’t help myself.
I’ll never stop. Not sure I could.
Epilogue
MADELINE
Years later
The band is playing our song, and Luke’s hands are holding my waist. I have never seen him smile this much. I was excited for this day and knew it would come, but Luke is like a kid on Christmas morning. If it were up to him, we would have done this years ago.
I keep catching myself staring at the people filling the tent. The wedding planner did a wonderful job. I didn’t know you could hang a whole-ass chandelier in a tent. Not just one either. When money isn’t really a concern, you can really do anything you want. I’m still getting used to that financial freedom.
My sister is dancing with Bennett, and I can’t stop smiling at the picture they make. Georgia kicked off her heels an hour ago and is laughing at something Grant said. Everyone I love is here, and they’re happy, and I had a small part in making that happen.