Page 32 of Unmanageable

There’s a beautiful beat of silence in the room. You can hear the collective intake of breath, the quiet sniffles from the front rows.

It’s one of those moments where the world outside the tent ceases to exist.

Then, Scottie shakes her head a bit, a small, familiar guard coming back up as she ends her speech with her usual smirk. “And anyway, I hope you stay married because divorce paperwork is expensive. To my sister and my new brother-in-law.”

She lifts her glass. “To Iveline and Callahan.”

The tent absolutely erupts.

Ivy is already on her feet, totally abandoning her napkin as she meets Scottie halfway. They collide in a fierce, tearful hug, burying their faces into each other’s shoulders for a long moment.

When they finally pull apart, Cal steps in, wrapping his arms around both of them, murmuring something private that makes Scottie laugh through her tears.

As she turns and begins the walk back to her seat, her head down, I find myself leaning into the aisle. My hand acts on its own, my fingers grazing the smooth silk of her dress as she passes.

It’s a silent I see you.

She doesn’t stop walking, but her stride falters for a fraction of a second, her fingers brushing back against mine in a fleeting, hidden pressure before she slips past.

The room is still buzzing, a few people wiping their eyes, when the band leader’s voice cuts smoothly through the microphone again. “Ladies and gentlemen, to conclude our toasts for the evening, please welcome the Best Man, Finnian O’Connell.”

My turn.

I stand up, taking a slow breath as the weight of the room shifts to me.

I look over at Cal—my brother in every way that matters—and feel the sudden, heavy gravity of the moment.

“Most of you know Callahan as the guy who took pucks to the face so I didn’t have to,” I say, my voice carrying easily through the speakers.

Right on cue, the Reign guys let out a loud, coordinated whistle, kicking off a ripple of appreciative laughter.

“And as his goalie,” I continue, “I’m grateful. Truly. My dental bill thanks you, Callie.”

Cal grins, throwing his head back, but even from here I can see the thick emotion shining in his eyes.

I let the laughter die down, shifting the microphone to my other hand.

“We’ve known each other since we were kids playing floor hockey in my basement, breaking my mom’s favorite lamps. And the thing about this sport is, we spend a lifetime trying to find a team. You move, you get traded, you sign contracts, and you’re always looking for the next locker room where you fit. It’s a career spent chasing a roster.”

I stop.

The pause stretches, as I find Scottie’s eyes across the space.

The noise of the tent seems to fade into a dull, distant hum.

“But if you’re lucky,” I say. “If you’re really, truly lucky… you find a home instead. A person who is your home base no matter what city you’re playing in. You realize that a team is just where you work, but a home is where you’re known. Truly known.”

I tear my gaze away from her just long enough to look back at the head table. “I’ve watched Callahan change since he met Ivy. I’ve watched him become the man he was always supposed to be. And as his brother, I’m just really, really glad he finally found his home.”

I raise my glass, the warm reception lights catching the liquid inside. I look right back at the girl in the champagne dress who thinks she’s a shark.

“To finding where you belong,” I murmur. “To the happy couple.”

***

I find Scottie standing by a high-top table near the edge of the tent, watching the dance floor with a loose, tired smile. I step up beside her, leaning my hip against the table and setting a fresh glass of white wine down in front of her, along with another bourbon for myself.

“Peace offering,” I say, nudging the wine glass against her hand. “Or a treaty. Whichever one keeps you from firing me.”