Page 242 of Cross Check

“What?” He glances down at the clothes he’s wearing. Emmy’s face is plastered on the front, and Murphy is wearing a matching top. “When have I ever wanted to blend in, Grant?”

“Fair point.” I give Murph’s hand a light squeeze, grinning when she giggles and reaches for me. I take her from Maverick’s arms and hold her against my hip. “Thanks for letting me crash your watch party.”

“Thanks for joining. I come to most of Emmy’s games on my own unless her dad is in town, and it’ll be nice to have company.”

“You’ve been coming alone? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Conflict of interest, I guess? I’m in a different headspace than some of the young guys who are obsessed with winning. They think even clapping for another team is treason.” He gestures for me to follow him, and we head for an entrance on the side of the building. “Didn’t want you all to think it was a requirement of being my friend.”

“We’re brothers, and Emmy is part of our group. We would’ve joined you.” I elbow him. “You better invite us to join you next season.”

“I’ll put your name on the suite too. Happy?”

“Very.”

We weave through the concourse and make it to the VIP elevator without being mobbed by fans. Groups of people notice us and whip out their cell phones to take a photo, but Maverick ignores them besides a polite wave.

“Is it hard being married to someone in the league?” I ask.

“Coordinating our schedules is tough,” Maverick says. He takes Murphy from me when she gets fussy, bouncing her up and down until she gives him a big grin. “Then there are the other questions. Who’s the priority? Who gets up in the night when Murphy is sick and running a fever? How do you navigate the work-life balance when both of you have the same job? There’s a lot of compromise.”

“I have a lot of respect for you, Mav.”

“Why?”

“Retiring early so Emmy can have her moment? Uplifting her every chance you get? Being a proud girl dad? I don’t know. I hope I’m like you one day.”

He waits until we’re alone in the elevator to ask, “What’s with the sudden questions about my relationship? Are you seeing someone in the league?”

I shove my hands in my pockets and rock back on my heels. It would be easy to lie—I’ve been doing it for so long up to this point—but I don’t fucking want to. Not about this, and not to him.

“It’s not a player,” I say. “But they are in the league.”

“Shoot.” He steps closer. “Is it that woman ref? An equipment manager? Wait. What about our social media coordinator? I’ve seen you talking to her a few times.”

“She doesn’t work for the team.”

“I love a riddle.”

The doors open, and we step onto the VIP level. We make a left and head down the carpeted hall until we get to a suite with a big wooden door. Maverick pushes it open and sets Murphy down, letting her move around the space.

“This is nice.” I touch the leather seats and marble counters. “Way fancier than the suites at our arena.”

“Right? The Sea Crabs have an unreal budget.”

I walk to the ledge that overlooks the ice, and I perk up when the Baltimore coaching staff makes their way to the bench. Amelia is at the front of the line, looking entirely in her element despite the high-stakes environment.

The puck drops, and the game begins. The Sea Crabs have urgency in their movements from the get-go, and I can feel the tension in the air. Maverick and I watch each pass and add our commentary about Baltimore’s strengths in between plays.

“Emmy is fantastic,” I say, and he nods.

“She shines in controlled entries. Her ability to keep possession of the puck through the offensive zone is special.” He leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “My only regret is that no one took a chance on her sooner.”

The excitement wanes after the first period. When the teams come back from intermission, I’m distracted by how Amelia sinks into her spot behind the bench. Loose shoulders, murmured conversations with her coaching staff. Praise to the players who perform well and a hand on the shoulder for the ones who misread an opportunity.

She’s not just good at her job; she’s fucking incredible.

The Sea Crabs score first with two minutes left in the second period. The building erupts, and both Maverick and I jump to our feet to cheer. They hold off a strong offensive push from Boston and take the lead into the final intermission. The players head off the ice, but Amelia hangs back.