The Fake Out (Vancouver Storm, #2)(109)

“I know.” I pull a deep breath in, letting the anxiety drain from me. “Thank you, coach. You don’t know what this means to me.”

“You have my jersey hanging in your home.” He shrugs, eyes twinkling. “I can’t trade a fan.”

He shoots me a good-natured grin and I chuckle.

“It’s not actually up yet. It’s propped on the floor because I haven’t had a chance to hang it.”

“You put me on the floor?” He shakes his head, still smiling. “Deal’s off.”

We share a laugh and I think about his jersey, and his career. “Do you miss playing?”

He stills, looking down before shooting me a tight smile. “Every day, Miller. But developing players, seeing who someone can be before they realize it themselves and then being right? It’s just as rewarding, maybe more. What you did at the League Classic, putting Owens on offense, was very interesting. Got me thinking about a few things.”

Something snags in my thoughts. “Did a team make an offer because of what I did?”

His mouth flattens. “No. The offers came after the rumors started.” He glances at the door. “Call Hazel in, would you?”

When I open Ward’s door, Hazel jumps to her feet. My dad paces beside her, waiting.

“What did he say?” Hazel asks.

“That he’s going to call in a favor to keep me.”

She wraps me in a tight hug, and I relax into her as it hits me that I won’t have to leave her.

“Thank god,” she whispers, and I nod, rubbing her back.

“Miller, Hartley,” Ward calls from his office. “Let’s go.”

Hazel shoots me a confused look and I take her hand, pulling her into the office. Once we’re seated, Ward clears his throat.

“McKinnon has been sent back to the minors.”

Hazel stiffens. That’s why he wasn’t there tonight. I figured he was still benched.

“Because he tried to kiss me?” she asks.

Ward lets out a heavy sigh. “No, but I should have made the call when that happened.” He glances between us. “This doesn’t leave this room, but he was the inside source who started the rumors. There were no offers until the rumors started.”

“Shit,” I murmur.

“Yeah,” he says, unimpressed. “Shit. He wasn’t the right fit for the team from day one but I thought,” he gestures at me, “with the progress you were making, maybe he would, too. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, and I thought a new group of guys he could learn from would push him to change.” He rubs his jaw. “But no. My gut said he wasn’t a good fit but I ignored it.” He shakes his head in regret and frustration. “I’m sorry to both of you.”

“It’s okay.” Hazel’s mouth twists. “It’s behind us.”

He gives her a terse nod, and I wonder how long this is going to weigh on him. Hazel’s hand slips into mine, and we smile at each other.

“It’s late,” Ward says, glancing at our joined hands. “Go home.”

We say goodnight and I pull Hazel out of his office. We walk my dad to his car, and he gives me a quick, uncertain hug before climbing into the driver’s side.

Hazel and I watch as he drives away, and she looks up at me with all the love and affection I’ve been searching for my whole life.

“Rory. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, baby.” My chest beats with pride and elation. “Let’s go home.”

I’m exhausted, she’s exhausted, and I intend to keep her in bed for at least twelve hours straight.

She nods, smiling, leaning on me. “Let’s go home.”





CHAPTER 82





HAZEL





The next morning, weak winter sun filters in through the windows of Rory’s bedroom while we lie in bed. I’m lying on him, listening to his heartbeat as his chest rises and falls with his steady breathing.

“Move in with me,” he murmurs as I trail my fingers up and down his flat stomach. The dragon tattoo on his ribs is mostly healed.

I lift my head and look into his crushing blue eyes, a knot of emotion in my throat. “You think?”

He nods.

“It’s soon.” I bite my lip.

“Is it?” A smile quirks up on his mouth. “It doesn’t feel too soon to me.”

I picture myself living here, waking up beside Rory every day. The images are seamless and filled with joy.

“Yeah.” My brow wrinkles. “I guess you’re right.”

Excitement whistles through me as I let my imagination run wild: hosting dinners with our friends and family, curling up on the couch together, sitting in the hot tub on the patio overlooking the city and telling each other about our day.

My gaze comes to him, and I smile. “Okay.”

“Just like that?” His eyes spark with teasing surprise. “Okay? I don’t even need to convince you?”

“Nope.” I grin wider. “I’m in. I’m all in.”

His eyes warm with affection. “Finally.”

My heart squeezes, and I give him a soft kiss.

“Are you sore from yesterday’s game?” I ask.