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A member of the arena staff opens the door and calls my name. I hold up one finger, telling them to wait a minute.
Eva glances toward the main entrance. “I should find out if anyone is selling a ticket.”
“Eva.” I turn and look at her. “You don’t need to buy a ticket. I have a seat for you.”
She stops. “You do?”
I adjust the strap of my bag, suddenly far more embarrassed by this than I was by the apology box.
“It’s in the family section.”
“Oh.” She lets out a quiet, surprised breath. “When did you arrange that?”
“After the first game you came to.”
Her eyes search mine. “You’ve had a seat waiting for me all this time?”
“I didn’t know if you’d use it.” I curl my fingers around hers. “I just wanted there to be a place for you if you did.”
“You didn’t know I’d come tonight.”
“No.” I hold her gaze, letting her see everything I’ve spent too long trying to hide. “But I’ve been hoping you would.”
Eva slips her hand into mine. “Come on, Alternate Captain. You’re going to be late.”
We head inside hand in hand, and somewhere between the parking lot and the doors, the knot I’ve been holding on to finally unravels.
Inside, my jersey is waiting in the locker room, the A stitched over my heart. The letter I’ve wanted––the proof I needed that my team trusts me to lead.
And Eva will be in the stands.
Not because Lucy brought her.
Not because I asked.
Because she chose to come back. To show up. To love me.
For years, I thought that letter would be the thing that finally made me feel chosen.
Tonight, I get to wear it knowing I already am.
CHAPTER 32
EVA
The morning after another Dominion win, Liam’s backyard smells like a few of my most favourite things: coffee, woodsmoke, and bacon.
The lawn is littered with several professional hockey players regretting how late they stayed awake, but who are also currently running on recovery day fumes.
Owen wears sunglasses even though the patio is shaded, while Tripp holds the same cup of coffee with both hands he’s had since I arrived, staring at the squirrel box, waiting for Thomas to come out I guess. Ty is sitting beside Vivian with his legs stretched beneath the table, looking as though he may never stand again.
Liam, however, is moving around his backyard with the bright-eyed energy of a man who has recently acquired a girlfriend and a dangerous belief that as a homeowner, even he can host events.
When he said brunch, I expected bagels. However, Liam has exceeded said expectations. He has hired a caterer.
A large black smoker is parked in his driveway, and a woman named Dakota is busy arranging trays of brisket, eggs, biscuits, and breakfast potatoes along a table near the back fence. She arrived in boots and a denim jacket, introduced herself, then handed me a piece of burnt end before I had the chance to explain I wasn’t the person in charge.
I liked her immediately.
