His mouth drops to my ear. “Yes. Really feeling the spirit of giving this Christmas. And I’ve just decided I’m going to be giving it to you all night. Actually, maybe all afternoon . . .” His head snaps up, and he pulls me into his body as he calls out toward the side where everyone is sitting, “Game’s over! Sloane and Summer’s team wins. We’re heading out.”
I bark out a laugh, but he winks and reaches for his helmet, guiding me off the ice.
“Where are we going?”
“Home, Sunny. We’re going home.”
40
Sloane
Violet: Drink?
Sloane: No.
Violet: You need one.
Sloane: I’m too nervous to drink.
Violet: Yeah. You look pale. Need a little color in your cheeks.
Sloane: No one cares about the color in my cheeks tonight, Vi.
Violet: You’ll look better on the news this way.
Sloane: What?
Violet: They have Buddyz Best!
I’m so nervous I feel like I could puke. I’ve got my elbows propped on my knees and my fingers tapping together in an anxious flutter.
“Girl, you give me anxiety just looking at you.” Harvey’s warm hand lands on my back.
“I’ve never been so nervous in my life.”
“Never?” His brow quirks.
I suck my lips in into my mouth and shake my head quickly. “Never.”
“I mean, if tail-babies can’t make you nervous, then I’d have thought a Stanley Cup game would be a piece of cake.”
“Harvey, good lord.” I drop my head into my hands on a laugh. “Is the tail-baby thing ever going to stop being funny to you?”
He shrugs and grins down at the ice. “Probably not.”
I want to pretend the joke isn’t funny, but the truth is I’m so sick with nerves right now I could hurl all over my maroon Grizzlies jersey with Gervais emblazoned across the back.
It’s the same one I bought all those months ago. It feels monumental somehow. Lucky.
And considering it’s almost the final period of play in game six of the Stanley Cup Finals tonight, the Grizzlies are going to need all the luck they can get. It’s their last chance to close the series out and win it all on home ice.
Their season has been nothing short of miraculous. They went on a hot streak just before Christmas and stuck with it. Those points catapulted them far enough into the standings that they made the playoffs.
Barely. But making it is making it.
They’ve fought long and hard. I know they’re tired. Jasper is sore and ready for a break.
It’s been a long, trying year, but it’s also been the best year.
The playoffs.
A second Olympic gold medal in February.
And us.
Us. God, that still sounds so good to me. The “us” part of our life is so damn good. So damn easy. It feels so damn right.
Something about admitting it out loud, about really accepting it, has lifted a weight from Jasper. He’s still quiet and introspective but now he smiles.
Under the cover of dark, we crawl out onto the roof of our little house in Chestnut Springs and talk about life. Fears. Plans. Babies. We talk about everything because we always have.
“What you smiling about, Sloane?” Harvey nudges me, obviously watching me while I zone out and stare at the grizzly bear logo painted at center ice.
“I’m just . . .” I shrug, regarding the buzzing arena. “Happy. Even if they lose tonight. Everything feels . . .”
“You’re both settled. Figured out what counts in life. It’s the people. Not the things. Not the acclaim. The people.”
“Yeah. Speaking of people. My mom still driving you insane?” She’s been living at the house for six months now, and she and Harvey bicker like an old married couple. I really can’t make heads or tails of it.
I’m not sure I want to.
“That woman,” he mutters. “It’s like after years of keeping her opinions to herself, she’s just blurting them all out left, right, and center. It’s an opinion surplus sale in that house. Buy one, get ten.”
I snort a laugh before the row of people heading our way catches my attention. Beau, home safe but still walking gingerly, leads the charge. He’s followed by Rhett and Summer and Violet who made the trip back just to take in this game.
A few seats down Cade has his new baby girl, Emma, strapped to his chest in a carrier. He’s all proud papa, eyes more on that little bundle than on the game. It does weird things to my ovaries watching him.
Willa is her usual playful self, sitting beside Luke trying to show him how to toss popcorn up in the air and catch it with his mouth.
It just keeps hitting them both in the face.
No matter what, seeing everyone here to cheer Jasper on warms my heart. He needs this. Deserves this.
We’re not up in the box. We’ve taken over almost an entire row of the stadium behind home net. Filled it with Eatons. Filled it with family.
Maybe not the family he was born into but the one that wanted him the most. The one that will do anything for him.
A buzzer sounds as Violet shoves a beer out in front of me and takes her seat. “Here. Drink it.”
“I can’t—”
She shimmies the plastic cup, making it dangerously close to spilling over. “You will. It’s Buddyz Best. You love this shit.”
I smirk down at the golden lager. It’s true that I love this beer. But not because it tastes good. It’s because I remember drinking it the night Jasper broke me out of that farce of a wedding. I remember drinking a pitcher of it while Jasper leaned over my back and taught me how to play pool.
The dog on the label makes me smile, and the memories it drums up make it taste fucking delicious.
I take a deep swig, and my nerves settle as I watch my man skate onto the ice from the bench. He glances up in our direction, and Beau waves the giant poster board sign he and Rhett made in his direction.
I watched them make it. Like the children they are, they giggled while sprinkling sparkles over the glue they used to spell out the words.
It reads: Jasper Gervais is my #1 stud!
Jasper tugs his helmet on, probably rolling his eyes from behind the cage.
Rhett yells, “Marry me, Jasper!” right as Summer elbows him in the ribs. It wouldn’t be an Eaton family outing without some type of insane shenanigans from the boys.
But once the timer starts, everyone settles into a tense silence. I should watch the game, but I spend huge stretches of time staring at Jasper in the net.
His incredible focus. The way he carries his body. The speed of his reflexes. He’s not just good at hockey, he’s a generational talent. He gives me chills.
And if I’m being totally honest, it riles me the hell up that he’s so superior. I’m so attracted to that part of him. His passion and tireless commitment to being so good at his sport.
I admire that about him. We connect on that level. When we need to train, there are no hard feelings or whining about time spent apart. We both pursue our passions, and we’re both better at what we do for having the other’s support.
The crowd gets loud as the opposing team burns down the ice toward Jasper’s net. He squares off to face the attackers. Just by standing in the net, he blocks so many of their opportunities to score because of his height advantage.