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But I know I’m safe.
I’ve got Riggs and my pups.
While the future is unknown, nothing can touch the happiness these four give me.
CHAPTER 29
Riggs
As Clara said, we play great in Michigan for some reason, and by the grace of the hockey gods, game seven is in Griffins’ territory.
We’re up by three.
My offense is on fire, fucking finally, and of course, my golden goose Cruz is at the top of his game. He hasn’t let anything in, his eyes are sharp, and he is determined. While it’s great for me now, I know I’ll be losing him soon. It sucks, but I want the NHL for him. I want the best for all my players, even if it means they’ll leave me. That’s another reason I want this Cup so badly. I want to end this season with a bang since I know I’ll be losing a lot of my players.
I did my job; I got them ready for the NHL, and I couldn’t be prouder.
Now, I want the Cup for them.
Yet my heart is pounding in my chest, and I can hardly take a deep breath, no matter how hard I try. I feel I’m watching the clock at every turn. Begging time to go quicker so that this game can be over and we can go home.
I need to go home.
I need Clara in my arms.
I miss her. Desperately. And I hate that she’s feeling insecure. I want to make those feelings disappear. I don’t want my girl feeling anything but confident when it comes to me. To us. I never thought I could love anyone the way I love her, but damn it, I do. She’s got me wrapped around her finger, and I have no intentions of freeing myself.
I’m hers.
And knowing I’m hers is a feeling I never thought I’d crave in my life.
I check the clock again, and when I look back at the ice, the Griffins are pulling their goalie. I’m not worried, though. This game is ours. I’m bouncing on the balls of my feet as I check the time again.
Fifty-three seconds.
I watch as my boys battle, and Alex continues to be the ninja he is. I feel Willy’s hand clutch my shoulder, and I look up at the clock.
Twenty-one seconds.
My boys stand, all of us vibrating and smacking one another in excitement. I don’t look at the clock anymore. Instead, I look at each of my boys, the pride I have for them burning deep inside me. This group of guys has always been special, and I can’t wait to bring home the Cup with them. When the horn sounds and our fans who made the trip start to cheer, I close my eyes.
We did it.
We’re four wins away from the cup.
As gloves fly and the boys all attack Alex, no matter how excited or proud of them I am, there is only one place I want to be.
With Clara.
Clara is great at a lot of things, but singing is not one of them.
She reminds me of the damn seagull fromTheLittle Mermaid, yet she sings like she thinks she’s Adele. It’s another thing about her that I love so much.
She’s unapologetically herself.
As I push the door open, I’m thankful she’s awake, even though it’s close to two a.m. She looks up from where she stands by the counter, pouring a glass of wine, and the most stunning grin comes over her face. I’m breathless at the sight of her, which is nothing new. She’s wearing one of my old LA Kings shirts, with bare feet and her hair up in a high bun.
She’s perfect.
