Page 143 of Bleacher Report
"What’s his name?" I ask, scratching the pup’s chin.
"Sproutacus the Second. But we can call him Sprout. What do you think of him?" he asks, reaching over to scratch his chin.
I grin. "I’m just glad he’s not another glitter dildo.”
He steps closer and rests his forehead against mine, his arms wrapping around Sprout and me. “As long as I’m around, you won’t be needing any more silicone cocks. I promise, Passenger Princess.”
And then I kiss him again, puck drops forgotten, the roar of the fans long forgotten.
The girls were right—New Year’s Eve at the stadium is crazy.
But I wouldn’t want this life any other way.
Epilogue
HUNTER
"Sold!"
I say, slamming the gavel against the podium, and the crowd erupts in laughter and applause. Luka shoots a mock glare at the woman in the back of the ballroom who just won him for a dog-walking date. He gives a dramatic bow, and the table full of Hawkeyes players howls like lunatics.
This is my first year MCing the Hawkeyes' annual Date with a Player charity auction, and I’ve been doing it while trying not to draw attention to the ring box in my pocket.
My hands have never sweated this much.
I grip the edge of the podium and force myself to breathe.
One more paddle raise. One more cheesy joke. Then I get to change my entire life.
"All right, folks," I say into the mic, my voice steady even if my pulse isn't. "Before we wrap up the live auctions and head to the ice for the goalie shootouts—I have one more thing to say."
The ballroom quiets.
I scan the crowd until I find her.
Peyton.
Wearing a different dress that she pulled from Abby’s closet for this event, but it looks just as good as the blue gown she wore to this same event one year ago, when I asked her to bet on me.
The second-best decision I’ve ever made in my entire life. And today, I’ll make the first best decision.
"Last year," I begin, voice tightening slightly, "I was just another player on the Hawkeyes who was willing to stand up here with the rest of the guys and bring in funds for an amazing cause. JP and Cammy talked me into signing up for one of the Date a Player spots, and I was happy to do my part. They needed a warm body with a decent smile… They weren’t picky,” I say, glancing around as most everyone gives a lighthearted chuckle, and then my eyes land back on her again. “I was expecting a date with a stranger, candle-lit dinner, maybe drinks, and definitely small talk. But what I got instead is something I wasn’t prepared to find.”
I see Peyton adjust her stance. From standing freely, leaned up against the open bar, stirring her drink, to standing straighter, her eyes glued to me.
I swallow and keep going.
"What I didn't expect was to fall in love with the woman who bid on me." I pause. "What I didn’t expect was her changing my life."
Now, it's dead silent.
Peyton’s eyes widen, lips parting slightly.
I step down from the stage, and I pass by Penelope and Slade’s table, hearing Penelope whisper, not all that quietly, “Oh my God, he’s going to propose!”
But Peyton’s not close enough to hear her, and it wouldn’t matter anyway. The moment I step down those steps, her eyes look like a deer in headlights. She already knows.
"Peyton Collins," I say, crossing the floor toward her, my heart pounding in my chest like I'm back on the ice in overtime. "You mocked me that night. You rolled your eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. But you still raised your hand. You still gave me a shot."
