Page 297 of Cross Check

“Sounds like heaven. Want to grab dinner tonight?”

“Sure. What were you thinking?”

“Leave that to me. Be ready at six. Attire is casual.” I walk to her side of the bed and tilt her chin so I can kiss her. “I love you,” I say, and her soft smile makes the hell we’ve been through worth it.

“I love you too,” she says. “Thank you for being patient with me and not running away when I gave you the chance.”

“You’re going to have to try harder than that to get rid of me, baby.” I smile. “Have a good day, Lia. I’m going to miss you every second I’m gone.”

“Me too. I’m counting down the seconds until you’re home.”

Between the Olympic break and moving through life like a ghost, this is my first practice in a month where I’m excited to be here. I’m practically giddy on my walk to the locker room in our practice facility, and when I touch my name plate above my stall, I realize how close I was to giving up the sport I love for the woman I love.

Walking away would’ve hurt. It would’ve been hard to see my brothers succeed—and fail—without me, but I would’ve found something new to try. I would’ve figured it out, but now I don’t have to. I could put a photo of her in my locker and no one can argue about it, and that’s a damn good feeling.

“Morning, G.” Ethan throws his arm around my shoulders and grins. “Glad to see you in a good mood.”

“Glad to be here, E.” I laugh and give him a sideways hug. “Thanks for sticking with me when I was a depressed asshole.”

“I love you,” he says. “I’m never going to give up on you.”

“Ten minutes until we hit the ice,” Coach barks out, walking through the locker room to his office. “Mitchell is going to separate you all into teams for practice today.”

“Make it single people versus guys in relationships, Mitchy,” Ethan calls out.

“Good suggestion, but not happening, Ethan,” Riley says.

“Because I’d school all their betrothed asses.”

“How are you doing?” Hudson asks, tossing his shirt in his stall. “Still glad the bylaw passed?”

“I haven’t stopped smiling. I thought I was happy before, but now I’m fucking floating, man. I sent James and Henry the biggest fruit baskets I could order to thank them for all of their help,” I say. “I want to do something for y’all too, but I don’t know what to get the whole team.”

“You don’t need to get us anything. We didn’t help you because we wanted you on the roster. We helped you because we love you, Grant. And love doesn’t come with a repayment plan.” He searches through his duffel bag and hands over a brownie wrapped in cellophane. “This is from Madeline. It’s her contribution to celebrating your good news.”

“Shit. This is going to be my reward for the ass-kicking I’m sure Saunders is going to give us this morning. Tell her I say thank you.” I take the brownie and hold it tight to my chest. “Dessert is the way to my heart.”

We all finish dressing and trudge down the tunnel with our gear. There’s shoving and pushing and someone yelling that someone else is pissing them off. It’s chaotic and loud, but it’s also perfect. The constant in my life I’ve missed, and the second my skates hit the ice, I let out a breath. I let my arms go slack at my sides. Every ounce of tension I’ve carried since the Olympics disappears, and I’m home.

“We’re starting with a 3-on-3 drill to warm up, and then we’re transitioning into a 1-2-3 Bumper Game.” Coach blows his whistle, and I grin. Not even the way he barks out orders can bring me down. “Is something amusing, Everett?”

“Happy to be back on home ice. I really took it for granted before.”

He pauses and stares at me. I shift on my skates, afraid I’m going to be sent to do laps for interrupting practice, but Coach tips his head. He offers me the hint of a smile then nods.

“We’re glad you’re back,” he says, then he blows his whistle again. “Line up in the groups Mitchell assigned you to. The last skaters to get organized are headed to the weight room after this for extra bench presses. That means you, Richardson.”

“Three things are certain in life,” Connor says, heading to join Hudson on the left side of the ice. “Death, taxes, and Easy E pissing Coach off by simply existing.”

“He loves me,” Ethan says. “Probably loves me the most, to be honest.”

“Keep dreaming, dude.” I tap a puck over to Connor then line up a practice shot on goal. “Pretty sure I’m his favorite.”

“Because you’re family now,” he challenges, letting out a screech when I chase him across the blue line. “I take it back!”

“Now you have to pay.” I wrap my arms around him and bring us both to the ice, laughing when Ethan grabs a clump of ice shards and shoves them down the back of my jersey. “I’m the alternate captain. You’re supposed to listen to me.”

“Richardson. Everett.” Another whistle blows, and I can’t stop giggling. “You’re two seconds away from joining the fourth line today and giving up your starting positions in favor of the rookies. Get off your asses and get ready to work. Now.”