Page 66 of Love of the Game
“Bet his agent’s still negotiating, and JR’s playing hardball,” Gavin said.
That got another laugh from Jon, and I studied him.There was something he wasn’t saying. I didn’t think he was keeping anything—oh shit.
Jon wouldn’t tell me he wasn’t re-signed in front of a bunch of people. He’d want to talk about it in private. But—I wasn’t imagining the way he was relaxed, or how his eyes sparkled with excitement. I gave him a gentle squeeze and matched his smile.
“I met MaryAnne Charleston when I was walking around. I knew she was a director here, but…” He waved his hand. “Olympic gold! Mom was so happy when she won. I can’t wait to tell her I’ve met her.”
That might explain the mood. “You talked?”
He shrugged. “Briefly. The Help Wanted poster they had up for coaches caught my eye.”
Oh. Then my brain caught up.Oh.
Maybe I looked too sharply at him, because that grin widened. “You were right,” he said. “You and my father.”
That everything would work out. I stared at him. “Yeah?”
And there was all the sparkle and light I hadn’t seen since he’d broken his shoulder. “Yeah.”
Alfie chuckled. “Wow.” He grabbed Gavin’s arm. “Come on, let’s leave them alone for a couple minutes.”
Gavin’s brow furrowed. “Why?”
“Because,” Alfie said, “they have things to say.” He led Gavin away.
“Oh man,” Jon said. “Alfie’ssmart.”
“Yeah.” I watched his back for a moment, then faced Jon. “JR isn’t re-signing you.”
“No,” he said mildly. “He’s not. I’m retiring.”
“You’re… what?” He was only thirty. I couldn’t imagine retiring at thirty.
The lounge got really quiet. Probably because I’d been very loud.
Then Jon laughed and broke all the tension. He threw his arm around my shoulder. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”
We went to the players’ parking lot. “You can’t retire.”
“Oh, I can,” he said, beaming at me. “Look, I don’t want to play anywhere else. I want to be with you, so I’m not leaving. If I’m not leaving, I’m retiring. Simple.”
“Jon, I can’t ask you to?—”
“Will you marry me?”
My head swam. What even was happening here? “Yes,” I said, since we’d talked about that before. Then I pieced together what he was saying. “Wait. You’d rather marry me than play hockey? But you love hockey!”
“I love you more,” he said simply. “And MaryAnne is looking for coaches.”
“Hold up.” I rubbed my forehead, because my brain hurt from the whirlwind of information and emotions whipping around inside it. Jon loved me more than playing hockey. He wanted to marry me. “Did you just propose?”
He blinked and tilted his head. “I guess I did. I kind of want to be a hockey husband.” His laugh seemed to fill the parking lot.
“And a coach.”
“I think I’d have fun with it, and I’d still get to skate and handle the puck and all that. Maybe I’ll join a rec team or sub in or something, once the shoulder isn’t so cranky.” He shrugged. “My agent said I should talk to you before I made any big decisions, but it’s theright thing, Drake.”
“What about the bar?”
