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I watched him as he stared at the ice, never taking his eyes off Mac. Smiling to myself, I took the entire tray of nachos and held in a laugh when Bash didn’t notice.
I loved how they were finally open with each other, and I wished I had realized in the beginning that they were hiding their feelings. Maybe I could have helped them sooner and saved us some heartache.
But then again, I didn’t think I would actually change a thing. I knew my guys were endgame. That all three of us were meant to be together. Before meeting Mac, I had never thought someone could have two soulmates, but I was one of the lucky ones.
Bash half-stood, his hands raised to his face. “Oh, shit.”
I looked at the ice and saw Mac skate through three players. They were playing the Brawlers from Santa Rosa and the other team was putting up a good fight. Their guys were big. Ours weren’t small by any means, but Mac didn’t tower over them like he towered over a lot of other players.
He wound through two guys trying to box him in and slammed the puck into the net.
I jumped to my feet, cheering my heart out, along with the rest of the fans. Turning to grab Bash, I froze when I saw his pale face. He wasn’t celebrating.
I dropped into my chair and rubbed his back as he hunched forward. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m—It’s nothing. Hockey’s just stressful.”
“That’s part of the fun,” I said, popping the last of the nachos into my mouth.
“I can’t imagine getting out there day after day. They have blades strapped to their feet—”
“They’re called skates.”
“Em,” Bash deadpanned. “I get that—”
“Mac knows what he’s doing, okay?”
Bash licked his lips and sucked down his over-sized soda. “I know. I know. I don’t normally watch, so I’m not used to this.”
He cared. I wasn’t sure if he realized how much, but it was written all over his face as he sat on the edge of his seat, white knuckling his drink as the Evergreens skated to victory.
Bash held his breath until the final buzzer. Once Mac had skated off the ice for the last time that night, he finally relaxed.
“Are you sure you’re good?”
“Too much adrenaline for me.” He smiled sheepishly, and I fought the urge to kiss him.
I didn’t think he’d refuse me, but I didn’t want to mess up a single thing.
“I’m willing to bet someone else is filled with adrenaline after that win,” I said.
Bash’s smile widened, and he grabbed the nacho garbage from me. “Let’s get him home.”
My stomach did somersaults as I imagined a wound-up Bash and a victory-high riding Mac in my bed.
Chapter Thirty-One
Mac
“I can’t wait until we get home,” I moaned.
“It’s like twenty minutes and we can make Bash drive—”
Bash raised his brows and scoffed. “Like hell.”
“Oh, come on. I don’t get a post-win treat?”
Bash stuck out his tongue and groaned. “No. Especially not when you word it like that.”
