Page 60 of What if It's Us

I nod toward Blakely Rivers, our newest member of the Anaheim Press Corps. She’s not the only female in the room as it appears that Minnesota has three, but Blakely is the first female reporter on Anaheim’s team and because of that, I want to make sure she gets to ask her questions first.

It has nothing to do with the fact that I happen to know she’s close with Marlee.

“Ledger, you had the game-winning goal tonight. Walk us through that play—what did you see out there?” Blakely asks, her phone stretched toward me.

Leaning on the podium a bit, I answer her the only way I know how.

“Honestly? Chaos. Their defense shifted wide, left just enough room in the slot. Ollenberg fed me a great pass so I didn’t overthink it. Just saw the opportunity and took my shot.”

“Were you aiming for his five-hole, or was that instinct?”

“Bit of both, I think. I knew their goalie was known to leave small gaps when he resets. I’ve watched enough film to know where he leans.” I shrug. “I was lucky really. The timing just lined up.”

“Last question,” she says, her tone changing. “Any off-ice motivation behind the fire you brought to the game tonight?”

Whoa…fuck.

Her question catches me completely off guard and when my eyes lift to hers I swear to God I see the quickest of winks.

She knows.

She has to know.

She’s doing this on purpose.

What the hell do I say?

I can’t put my feelings for Marlee out there for the whole world to know.

But fuck yeah, she’s motivation.

She was motivation on the plane to not fall asleep so I could watch her as she talked and laughed with other front office staffers.

She was motivation to have a fulfilling work-out this morning. Her smile and laugh kept me going on the treadmill, and knowing she was watching the game tonight from somewhere in the arena was reason enough for me to play my absolute best. I mean I know it’s my job to give it my all on the ice and that’s always my plan, but I’ll admit, if I can impress the girl at the same time?

Win-fucking win.

“Uh…sure. There’s always off-ice motivation. I aim to keep the fans happy. My love and respect for the people of Anaheim is what keeps me playing hard every time.”

Blakely nods, giving me a crooked smirk and I give her one right back. “Thanks Ledger.”

“Thank you,” I tell her before I nod at the next press member and take his questions.

The locker roomis chaos in that gritty, half-sweaty, half-victorious way when I finally make it to the shower. Towels snap, jokes fly, and the air smells like victory and happiness. Everyone's riding the high of the 2–1 win. Even Coach Hicks is smiling like he just won the fucking lottery.

I’m quieter than usual but I’m also smiling to myself and shaking my head when I think about that night I spent dancing with Marlee in my living room chanting to the fertility Gods. I remember she asked if I had experience in this type of ceremony before a game. Seriously, I can’t even look at Barrett Cunningham right now without envisioning him bouncing around a damn campfire with Betty White asking for something like poles and goals.

I towel off and dress back into my suit and then wait just long enough for the others to start filtering out toward the bus in the cold night air. Minnesota in the fall is a sharp contrast in temperature from California. I turn the corner to the gate where our exit is for the bus and feel her before I see her.

Marlee stands a few feet away, her eyes on her screen as she types something into her phone. She’s dressed in a pair of tight blue jeans and an Anaheim Stars long sleeved shirt that’s partly tucked in at the waist. Her matching blue Vans give her a cute and trendy vibe that I can appreciate. Her beautiful chocolate-colored hair that she usually wears in a ponytail or braid is pinned partly up with a clip in the back while the rest hangs down her back in soft ringlets. It’s all I can do to not walk right up to her and run my fingers through it. Hell, it’s all I can do tonot sweep her off her feet and squeeze the shit out of her in a huge hug.

A small part of me was disappointed when she wasn’t standing with the other family members outside the locker room right after the game. But then I remembered that she has a job to do just like me and even if she was there, it’s not like I could have scooped her up and kissed her the way Griffin kisses Layken or Bodhi does with Corrigan.

Nope.

As much as it pains me to have to admit it, I’m just the sperm donor in Marlee’s life. Maybe one day, if I’m super fucking lucky, she’ll see me as more, but for now, I’ll have to be satisfied taking whatever crumbs she throws my way.

Approaching her slowly, she finally looks up from her phone and when she does, her eyes light up and a smile crosses her face.

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