“Did you have to get married?”
Lindy. Lindy. Did you marry him to get him traded?”
Questions fly at me from every direction, and the security at the VIP gate ushers me through. Shit. It’s never been like that before. I show the guard my ticket and lanyard. Max thinks he’s the only one capable of making a call. But there was no way I was going to my first game, watching my husband play for my team, without pulling a few strings.
I’m escorted through the cavernous halls and brought to the Revolution’s bench, where Brynlee stands with Mason, the head physical therapist. Her face lights up when she sees me, and I rush over to hug her.
“I’m so excited you made it.” She points next to herself. “You know Mason, right?”
“Yes, we’ve met.” I smile at Mason and offer him my hand.
“Nice to see you, Miss Kingston.”
“Actually, it’s Hayes now,” I correct him with such a giddy smile, I can’t hold it back when I look at Bryn.
Her eyes widen, and she turns to Mason. “Do you mind if I . . .” She points to me.
“Go ahead. We’re fine. Just don’t go far.”
She takes my hand and moves down to the other end of the bench behind the sin bin. “Umm . . . okay, Mrs. Hayes. I think you need to spill the deets. Does this mean everything went well last night? I mean, I read the Kronicles this morning, and the pictures they had of you two last night looked hot. Like seriously hot. But when I didn’t hear from you all day, I wasn’t sure.”
I look out onto the ice and immediately find Easton stretching. “Oh yeah. Things went really well. It was amazing, Bryn.”
“Amazing enough to introduce yourself as Mrs. Hayes? Does that mean you’re done asking for an annulment?”
“I remembered everything, Bryn. Everything. So yeah, no more talk of annulments.”
She links her arm through mine and looks out over the ice at the team. “So you guys are good?”
“Yeah.” I smile, thinking about last night. “I think so. We kinda went about it backward. But I think it’s going to work for us.”
“Okay. Then you need to deal with the family when you get back to Kroydon Hills.”
“Come on, can’t you let me just enjoy tonight? I’ve already dealt with Max. Let that be enough for one day,” I beg, not in the mood for another lecture.
“Lindy . . . Easton hit Jace in the locker room. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I had to make sure Jace didn’t have a cracked jaw. And I totally heard Coach Fitz give Jace and Easton hell. It was bad.”
Just then my brother skates over to us and bangs against the boards. “Hey, sis.”
“Jace Joseph Kingston. You dick. Why’s your jaw bruised?” I demand, and the fucker skates away from me backward with a shrug, like he can’t hear me. “I’m gonna kill him.”
The music changes, and the guys start to skate over toward the bench.
Brynlee squeezes my hand. “I’ve got to get back. You need help finding your seat?”
“Nope. I’m good. See you at home when you get back.”
“K.”
I take a step back as Easton smacks the glass between us.
I kiss my hand and line it up with his. “Kick ass, baby.”
EASTON
“Dude, your wife is a fucking smoke show, Hayes.” One of the younger guys on the team taps my stick as we skate out into a line for the national anthem, his eyes locked on Lindy, and I can’t even be annoyed. She’s fucking gorgeous, standing behind the goal, her eyes locked on me.
“Watch it, asshole.” Jace glares when he stops next to me. “That’s my little sister.”
“Shit. Sorry, Cap.”
Jace ignores him and turns my way. “She’s wearing your jersey.”
“Yeah, she is.” I don’t even care if it pisses him off.
“She’s worn my jersey since the day I was drafted,” he grumbles. But something about it doesn’t sound as pissed now as it did earlier.
I glance over to him as the singer moves to center ice. “Husband trumps brother.”
“Not even sorry about that, are you?” he taunts.
“Not even a little fucking bit,” I bite back just before the anthem starts, and we all stop talking. Time to win a game.
There’s an electricity in the locker room after our win that’s ratcheted up a notch by the fact it was a shutout against a team that’s been killing it all season. Reporters are looking to get soundbites they can take back, and I’m not in the mood to talk just yet. I’m new to this team and don’t need any egos getting bruised if they try to make the win all about the shutout. But even taking extra time in the showers doesn’t do the trick this time. As soon as I walk over to my locker, one of the reporters I recognize stops me.