Page 90 of Mother Pucker

epilogue

Rowan - 7 Months Later

I pridemyself for my ability to stay calm during the most crucial times, especially when it comes to hockey.

That ability to ignore the thumping of my heart against my chest and compartmentalize the pressure while playing in front of eighteen thousand fans usually comes easily to me.

Today, though? Not so much.

Today, not only is the Stanley Cup on the line–what with us at game seven and the series tied at 3-3!–but so is my future with the woman of my dreams.

With just a minute left in the game, and our team on a power play–with us having a 5-on-4 advantage–and our score tied at 2-2 with St. Louis, the pressure has never been this high. One more goal and we’ll clinch the win.

The tension in the arena could be cut with a knife, the crowd roaring so loud, it’d be deafening if I was actually listening.

One mistake and we’d lose the championship. The one thing we’d worked so hard for and poured our blood, sweat, and tears into over the past months.

With the seconds ticking away, I position myself at the point. I watch the puck move swiftly between our forwards, testing the St. Louis’ penalty killers. Seeing a clear pass, Aiden slides it overto me, and I fake a shot, causing a scramble amongst the penalty killers.

My head swivels to the right, seeing our sniper, Sanders, open. I send the puck gliding over to him, and he catches it easily, winding up for a slapshot, and unleashing his power against the puck. I track it, soaring between the mass of legs and sticks, and my heart practically stops when, by some fucking miracle, it catches at the back of the net.

Holy fucking shit, he did it!

The crowd explodes, the stands thundering, as the buzzer signifies our game-winning shot.

For a second, time freezes as I process what just happened. Is this even real?

We just won the Stanley Cup!

We just won the motherfucking Stanley Cup!

My eyes swivel over to the stands, connecting with Shayla and then Kai, who are both wearing my jersey. My fucking family, my hearts.

She places all her fingers to her mouth and throws me a kiss before her and Kai–along with the rest of my new friends from the brownstone–jump as if they’re on a trampoline, screaming and crying as if they’d won the Cup themselves.

Within an instant, I’m wrapped inside of large arms–Whose? I couldn’t tell you–as my teammates crowd me in a hug, screaming with actual tears streaming down their faces.

Shortly after, the Bolts are presented with the Stanley Cup in a ceremony on the ice with our fans cheering, each player getting a moment with the coveted cup. I lift it up in my hands, showing it off to the kid who’s anticipated this moment for me almost as much as I have–my buddy for life, Kai. He jumps up and down with his arms in the air, knowing I’m looking at him and only him.

It’s been an incredible, albeit interesting, few months living in the same house with everyone. There’s no shortage of daily–if not hourly–shenanigans, laughter, and fun. I can’t deny I don’t crave the quiet from time to time–a place for just Shay, Kai, and me–but I won’t complain as long as I get to wake up next to my girl when I’m not on the road.

“You ready, stud?” Sanders is in my ear, speaking above the din. He nods, and we both look back up at Shayla in the stands. “One victory down; now, go get the next.”

I hug him before skating over to the edge of the arena, motioning to Shay and Kai to meet me there. Kai and I exchange looks, and he hurries his mom toward me while people around them watch.

As soon as I meet them with a short metal gate between us, separating the crowd from the players, I pull them both into my arms, placing a kiss on Kai’s temple.

“You did it, Rowan!” he squeals. “You were amazing out there. The best of the best.”

I run my hand through his unruly hair, looking down at him with so much fucking adoration, I honestly never thought I’d be capable of loving a kid as much as I love this one. “The only people I want to be the best for are you and your mom, little man, and I’ll try every day to make you both proud.”

With that, I slide my hand into my pocket and take out the game-winning puck. Kai’s eyes practically fall out of his sockets, his mouth agape, as he stares at what’s in my hand.

“For my biggest fan and the coolest kid I’ve ever known.”

“Rowan . . .” Kai’s hand trembles as he takes hold of the puck, looking at it as if it’s the most precious jewel in the world. “Are you serious?”

“It’s yours, bud. Maybe later I can take you back to the locker room and get it signed by all the players?”

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