Page 91 of Scoring Zone
I sink down on the bottom step. “Thank you?” I’m not sure how else to respond.
Liska pats my head. “I told you I’d fix it. And we did.” He gestures to Austin.
“What did you do?” Austin jolts in surprise.
“You have friends. I have friends. Friends help friends.” Liska shrugs with a smug smile.
“Friends?” I parrot like an idiot.
“The hardest part of this surprise was making sure no one texted in the friend group chat,” Drake says.
My gaze travels over the men in my parents’ house. I took their loyalty for granted because I’d been oblivious. It was as if I couldn’t accept their friendship at face value; I put limitations on it that were all in my head.
These men are the best friends I’ve ever had. I can count on them to have my back. My eyes sting as I take them in and feel like today, my nickname should be Lucky.
King taps my head. “Low-key, he’s having a moment. Let’s wait for him outside.”
They file out the front door as Austin picks up my bag and holds out his hand. “Come home where you belong, Sunshine. Our friends are waiting.”
“Our friends.” I grin like an idiot and follow him out. After the team spoke up for me, I knew they had my back, but this is on an entirely new level.
In the middle of hockey season, when they have almost no time to spend with the people they love, they chose to get on a plane to come get me. That’s ride-or-die friendship right there, and I’ve never been so grateful.
My life reset is off to a spectacular start.
Chapter 39
Austin
I’m a full-blown addict because I can’t stop touching Gray, or inhaling him, on the drive to the airport. The guys notice but, for once, are keeping their mouths shut.
“There’s one thing you have to promise me,” Gray murmurs.
I sit up straight, removing my nose from the crook of his neck to look at him. “Anything.”
“No matter what happens, with us or the civil suit or coming out, you can’t retire from hockey.” He’s serious.
I scoff, but he silences me with a kiss.
“In terms of hockey, you have way more experience than I do, except in how it feels to lose it. Some mornings I walk into the arena and smell the ice, ready to lace up my skates, and it’s still a shock to remember that playing is in the past. It will sneak up on you when you see a headline about your teammate. The loss will steal your breath with a sharp pain in your gut. Don’t lose hockey because of me. It will tear us apart.” He cups the side of my neck, and my pulse hammers under his hand.
“I won’t be able to live with the guilt. It will ruin us. Promise me.” His eyes bore into mine as if he could extract the promise by sheer will.
“But if I have to choose between you and hockey, I choose you.” There is no choice. Grayson is my future, and hockey is a job. I’ve lived the dream, and although it will be hard to quit, being away from Grayson tears me apart.
“I will never make you choose. Even if we’re separated by distance, we’ll make it work. Any obstacles will be temporary, but your legacy is forever. Don’t cut it short and regret it.”
“I’ll do what’s best for both of us,” I assure him. I won’t lie and make a ridiculous promise.
“No, we’ll talk it out, and you’ll play hockey until it isn’t fun or your body gives out.”
I cover his mouth with my hand. “Do not speak that into existence,” I hiss. I’m not the most superstitious hockey player, but I’m not tempting fate. I won’t want to play if it becomes a job, so I’ll convince him whenever I decide to leave hockey behind.
“I have a demand as well.” I fist my hand in his silky hair so he can’t look away.
“Reeeally?” His mouth quirks up.
“Really. From now on, for the rest of your life, I’m your New Year’s Eve kiss. It’s how we started and a tradition from now on.” My decree turns his big brown eyes glassy.
