Page 106 of The Love Dare
“Out loud!” Nina’s voice ricochets through the silence.
Winnie snorts and rolls her eyes. Part of her was hoping Ty somehow broke free of production, but no such luck.
She doesn’t care though.
Her heart is too light, too full of excitement to bother with anything else.
“Dear Winnie,” she starts again. “I’m all out of quotes and I’m writing this at forty thousand feet, so bear with me. Even in first class, the tray table is freaking minuscule. And yes, I did pay for the upgrade. You can make fun of me for that later. Maybe I am getting a bit too used to having money, but fuck it. I earned it. And this is as good a use as any. Actually, I can’t think of a better use of my money than this surprise for you. And you will be surprised. Hopefully in a good way, but you might be a little pissed too. That’s okay. You’re pretty cute when you’re pissed. Anyway, enough of me being a rambling asshole. Back to the point. This is why I’ve been stealing from Shakespeare. Words aren’t really my thing. So I’ll keep it simple. I love you. Always have. Always will. And I’m ready for the whole world to know it. If you are too, grab the bouquet and head to the locker room for step two. Ty.”
She glances back to the vase, noticing for the first time that the stems are wrapped in a silk ribbon, held together by a row of pearl pins with a golden locket hanging near the top—her mother’s. She doesn’t need to open it to know what’s inside. She’s seen it a thousand times before. All she needs to do is close her eyes to envision the photograph of her parents on theirwedding day and the words engraved in the metal.Te voi iubi pentru totdeauna. I will love you forever.
Winnie pulls the bouquet free, a sudden knot forming at the back of her throat as her stomach dips. Her thoughts whirl. The peanut gallery, she can’t help but notice, has gone utterly silent. A bright light flickers to life, illuminating the entrance to the locker rooms. She swallows and makes her way down the hallway, pausing for just an instant, trying not to get ahead of herself, as the door swings open.
Her gaze goes right to his old locker.
A white silk robe hangs in the place where a jersey used to be, another white envelope taped to the hanger.
She rips it open.
“Dear Winnie,” she reads. “I can’t even begin to tell you the number of times I spent sitting on this bench, thinking about you when I should have been focused on hockey. You probably have no idea how distracting you were, sitting up in the stands every practice, doing your homework, reading a book, working on a sketch, never once bothering to look down at me on the ice doing anything and everything I could to catch your attention. Did you ever wonder why I favored my right side? Because you always sat on the left, and I let the defense slam me into the boards about a thousand times just so I could catch a brief look at your surprised eyes. The thought of you in my jersey and nothing else has powered more fantasies than you can imagine, but Sam assures me, they won’t be anything compared to when I see you wearing this. I have to admit, I’m definitely looking forward to it. But if you hate it, blame her. Not me. Ty. PS: To the film crew. Avert your fucking eyes or I will gouge them out later.”
When Winnie glances up, the cameras behind her are down and the men’s backs are turned. She rolls her eyes and reaches for the robe, fully aware of what she’ll find underneath. Sam’s been trying to convince her of the sex-appeal-boosting powersof lingerie for as long as they’ve been friends, but Winnie has never bothered to test out the theory. She’s always been a lights-off sort of girl, and her cotton panties worked just fine for that. But maybe her roommate was right, Winnie can’t help but think, as she secures the sheer white corset top and matching thong before slipping a lace garter up her thigh.
She feels hot.
A little thrill works its way up her chest at the thought of Ty seeing her later, hunger in his eyes as his gaze roves every inch of her.
Yeah. Sam definitely might be onto something.
Winnie slips into the robe and secures the tie, hiding the lingerie from view before gently coughing to let the camera guys know it’s okay to turn around. As soon as they do, the door at the other end of the locker room opens and another light turns on. Winnie follows the path, surprised to find hair and makeup waiting. Another white envelope rests in the director’s chair set up in the center of the room.
“Dear Winnie,” she reads aloud. “I want it to be clear, this was not my idea. I don’t think you need any hair or makeup. You’re perfect the way you are. But when I said that, Sam practically kneed me in the balls over the phone. I guess after fourteen hours of travel, you might want to freshen up, but believe me, you don’t need to. You probably don’t even remember this, but there was a night in college when you stayed over late helping me study and we fell asleep on my bed. When I woke up, I looked down, and there you were, snuggled on my chest, wearing my hoodie, with those big tortoiseshell glasses and your hair pulled into a messy bun. I don’t think I moved for half an hour because I was so terrified to wake you up. I just stayed there, stock still, staring at you like some creepy stalker honestly, but I couldn’t stop. You were so beautiful. I wanted to memorize every one of your freckles. I wanted to stay there, withyour hand over my heart and your body curled against me for the rest of my fucking life. But then my stupid alarm went off, and I had to pretend like it was nothing, a simple accident. I was so afraid you’d see the truth in my eyes, or, shit, feel it up against your thigh, I jumped out of bed like I was on fire. So anyway, I guess what I’m trying to say is, I want you to look the way you want to look, not for me or for anyone else, but for yourself, because every version of you is my favorite. Ty.”
Winnie clutches the note, fighting back a sting as her heart threatens to overwhelm her. She knows exactly what morning he’s talking about. She was awake the entire time, relishing in the feel of his arm wrapped around her waist and his warm chest beneath her cheek, thinking he was asleep. She was too afraid to open her eyes and ruin the dream, especially when she felt his finger trail ever so softly up her forearm, the move so seemingly purposeful before his alarm cut it short. Ty ran out so fast, she assumed he was freaked out, but then he never mentioned it. The next time they saw each other, it was business as usual, so she just buried it, writing it off as another moment of her imagination running wild.
But it wasn’t.
He felt it.
He remembered.
Winnie lets the professionals do their thing, brushing and painting the travel away, as she clutches the notes in her hands, her pulse a wild, runaway train. When they’re done, she follows the path of lights into the other locker room. A gorgeous white dress is there waiting—A-line silhouette, off-the-shoulders, the corset top decorated with delicate silk, giving way to a dreamy tulle skirt, every bit as romantic as she always imagined.
Her heart thuds as she slowly opens the note, swallowing the thick emotion in her throat as she clears it, attempting to steady her voice before she reads.
“Dear Winnie, by now, you can probably guess what I’m planning, but are you really surprised? I’ve always been competitive. It’s in my blood. You know this. So while you’re the one who started it by stepping out of that limo, kissing me without saying a word, and then daring me not to fall, you had to know I would damn well finish it. I’m too sore a loser to ever risk losing you again. I was in love with you long before this started, and I’ll be in love with you long after it’s finished. I think you stole a piece of my heart that very first day we met, when you stole that puck out from underneath me with a wicked smile on your lips. And you’ve been stealing more and more every day since. I don’t want to spend another moment of my life without you. I don’t want to waste another second wishing you were mine. I just want to be with you, forever. And if you want that too, lace up and meet me at center ice. Ty.”
An assistant comes to help her with the gown, and then another doorway opens, this time leading back out to the arena. A pair of white skates sits beneath a spotlight. There’s no note. She couldn’t read it even if there were. Her fingers tremble so much she can barely tie the laces. Even though it’s quiet, she can feel everyone watching her, waiting to see what she’s going to do. But is there really any doubt? She hopes not. Because there isn’t an ounce of hesitation in her heart.
When Winnie reaches the edge of the rink, another spotlight turns on. Her father is standing there in his formalwear, steady and strong, his expression warm as he holds out his hand. The moment she touches his fingers, twinkling lights burst to life overhead, illuminating the space like a galaxy brought down from the heavens. She has no idea how they pulled it off in such a short amount of time, but the entire arena has been transformed by billowing white curtains, hundreds of candles, and mountains of flowers, all matching the bouquet in her hand, soft pinks and sage greens, her perfect combination.
Her gaze goes immediately to Ty. He’s waiting beneath a floral arch at center ice in a fitted black tux, blond hair windblown from skating, eyes alight with mischief, a half-grin on his lips, just a little bit goading. He trusts her not to run. He wouldn’t be here if he had any doubts. He saw right through everything the producers threw his way. But he’s still not taking chances, the expression on his face practically designed to lure her in, a bit challenging, a bit wicked, the image of a cocky athlete as he stands ready and waiting for this face-off. She can’t help but grin as she takes in the blades on his feet. They fit somehow, as though it wouldn’t be him, it wouldn’t bethemin a church or on a beach or at some field somewhere. The ice is their sacred space, this rink their chapel.
To Ty’s right, Alex is watching with a silly grin on his lips. To the left, Sam cocks her hip with a smirk, a slinky blush bridesmaid’s dress hugging her curves. Farther over, Yetta stands holding another woman’s hands. It takes Winnie a second to recognize Ty’s mom. She looks so happy and healthy she’s almost unrecognizable, and while it probably won’t last, she’s here today. Without having to ask, Winnie knows that means the world to her son. There’s only one other person on the ice, Keith Holson—television show host, constant pain in their asses, and the apparent officiant of their wedding.
Her father squeezes her fingers, drawing her face back to him. They share a look, speaking without words, and suddenly they’re off, speeding across the ice. A foot outside the circle, they cut to a sudden stop as one, showering Ty in a plume of snow.
“I probably deserved that,” he drawls, dusting off his black pants.
