Page 78 of Drop the Mitts

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

André

André leanedhis shoulder against the wall of the conference room, chewing absently on the cap of a pen that had long since stopped working. This oral fixation needed to stop. He looked like a douche, but he couldn’t help himself. Chewing gum, mints—anything to keep his tongue busy. He could think of plenty of options for that where Grace was concerned, but those fantasies didn’t help the current situation.

He’d almost driven to her house three times that week, but he couldn’t do it. He’d been the one showing up for weeks. The one telling her exactly how he felt, the one chasing her down. His ego couldn’t take much more, and that was saying something. This wasn’t a game to him anymore, and he wasn’t going to keep bidding if she couldn’t meet him halfway.

He worked to tune back into the meeting, already in full swing. The long rectangular table was packed—Sean, Tyler, Ryan, Brett. Jack Harrison sat near the end with his girlfriend Delia Melise. André had met her before, but he still felt a littlestarstruck every time they came around. Just last week their over-the-boards kiss after the Blizzard’s win over Vegas went viral. He couldn’t stop seeing Jack shoving his tongue down her throat if he’d tried.

Again, tongues. Not helping.

A couple other NHL guys were scattered along the table. On the far end sat Dev Singh, the shutdown defenceman from Toronto. That guy moved like a steamroller on skates and made his living ending dreams in the neutral zone. beside him was Leo Tremblay, the Canadiens’ chirpiest winger and power-play sniper who once scored four goals in a single game while mic’d up. Andre had watched that clip at least eight times. Probably twelve.

Across from them was Weston Price, the baby-faced goalie from Vancouver, already a fan favourite at twenty-three because he played like he’d sold his soul for glove saves and had a habit of chirping from the crease like he was hosting a stand-up set. Since Fleury was winding down, they needed more goalie shenanigans, and he seemed primed to try and fill his skates. André had never seen someone bait a shooter and rob him blind so smoothly.

They were casual, calm, dressed like they were at a Cactus Club happy hour. There was no ego in the room, no bullshit. Just guys here to do some good, and that he respected more than game stats.

Jenna and Country sat closest to the door with Hope in the stroller. Sean sat at the far end, and Grace was beside him, her hair pulled up into a low twist, scribbling notes on a yellow legal pad.

Business as usual.

“Alright.” Micheal from Heads Up Alberta gestured to the checklist on the whiteboard. “Security's been confirmed, merch orders are in, and the final player list is being updated with thelate additions. Thank you again to those of you who took time to be here in person. It means a lot to have those last minute promo photos.”

Jack gave an easy smile. “We’re excited. This is a hell of a cause.”

Delia nodded, crossing one leg over the other. “We’ll hit the CJAY92 interview this afternoon. If there’s anything else we can do before we fly out, let us know.”

Grace straightened in her chair. Her cheeks flushed pink as Delia smiled at her, and André grinned. Grace Fairbanks. If she had a tell, that was it. Hell it was cute to watch her pretending she wasn’t fangirling.

They wrapped the final logistics. André was helping with most things, and Brett would be at the Saddledome early to help coordinate with the staff. Tyler and Ryan would coordinate the player entrance. Country, Jenna, Jack, Delia, and the PR team would run media coordination. Sean would help coordinate post-game tear down.

When the meeting adjourned, everyone filtered out toward the brunch spread laid out near the windows. Muffins. Coffee. The fruit salad that always seemed like a filler but somehow disappeared first.

André poured himself a coffee and turned just in time to see Grace standing at the table, eyeing a cranberry-orange muffin.

He stepped beside her. “You want chocolate. Life’s too short for citrus in baked goods.”

She gave him a side-eye, then grabbed a chocolate muffin and pulled on the wrapper. Heat flashed through him, his throat thickening.

He didn’t let himself say more. Didn’t press. Didn’t flirt the way he wanted to. Didn’t reach for her hand even though it was right there beside his. He couldn’t keep doing this if she didn’t wanthim.Not just a release or a way to let go, as she put it.

Do you love her?

He’d laughed at Country’s question. But he wasn’t laughing anymore.

“Okay. Um. Is that aring?” Jenna’s voice rose through the room. She leaned across the table, blinking dramatically at Delia’s left hand.

Delia paused mid-sip of her latte. “Uh?—”

“She’s pregnant!” Jack blurted, grinning like he’d been holding it in for hours.

Delia groaned and shoved him lightly in the shoulder. “Jack!I told you I wanted to?—”

“You were taking too long,” he said, utterly unrepentant. “The full spread withPeoplecomes out next week. Might as well give our friends the scoop first.”

Delia turned to the room, sighing. “Okay, fine. Yes. We eloped. And yes, I’m pregnant. Nine weeks, so keep it quiet for a bit, will you?”

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