“Asshole.” Beau grinned.
Then they began to shove one another playfully before Asher shot off down toward the other end of the ice, with Beau following him, leaving the two of us alone again.
“They’re two overgrown children,” I muttered and then burst out laughing. “He calls me Pink because the night we first messed around, we were going to dye my hair pink.”
Saint hummed. “I thought maybe it was because of Pink Floyd or something, since you’re a guitar player.” He gave me a shy smile. “Asher calls me Alice because I dress like I’m from the grunge era of the 90s.”
“That’s kind of cute. I like it.” I grinned. “Beau asked me to marry him.” I felt my cheeks burn. I hadn’t told too many people.Your eyes look like they might pop from your head. Don’t tell anyone yet, okay? I haven’t said yes or no. I just... I’m just... I love him. Fuck, I love him, but we have a lot to figure out first. He scares easily, and well, I’m terrified he’s going to run again.”
Saint touched my arm gently. “But you moved in with him.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean anything,” I whispered. “And until I know that won’t happen again, I can’t tell Beau yes. I want to. I want to marry him and live happily ever after. I want to be Dean Frost-Whitaker.”
He squeezed my arm. “I understand. And I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
“Saint, right?” Oscar was standing before us. “I’m Oscar Lane. I’m so excited to meet you.” Well, now there was some story here that I needed to know.
Saint giggled. “It’s nice to meet you, Oscar.”
“Lane, back away from my boyfriend!” Asher exclaimed, which caused us both to laugh.
Oscar slipped his mask up over his head, revealing his baby face. He was a young kid at nineteen, drafted right out of high school. “We’ll have to catch up sometime. Nice to see you, too, Dean!” he shouted.
When Asher started toward where he stood, he laughed hysterically and skated away back to stand in the crease.
“That man is huge,” Saint muttered softly. “Like, huge.”
I snorted. “Yeah, he’s like six-foot-eight or something. I thought Jackson was a big guy.” Saint turned to look at me again. “That’s my brother-in-law. He used to play for Boston, but now he’s the coach for the Panthers. I’ll introduce you sometime. You’ll love my brother.”
“I don’t know about that. Maverick doesn’t like Asher very much.” Saint grimaced the second the words tumbled from his mouth. “Sorry, I shouldn’t say that.”
I shrugged. “I mean, no, he doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean Mav won’t like you. And people can change. Mav did. He wasn’t always nice to people, but now he’s married, a dad. You’ll get along just great. You’ll see.”
“Maybe, sure.” Saint turned his attention back to the ice.
But I knew that I was right. Everyone would get along eventually, and we would become great friends.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Beau
The Terriers had a hell of a season. Not enough to get us another Cup, but it was still epic and fun. Plus, I wasn’t mad as we watched my old teammates, Wyatt and Jackson, hoist the Cup when it was the Panthers’ turn. They truly deserved it with the season they’d had. Asher and I grew closer, but not as close as Dean and Saint. They had a friendship that I hadn’t expected, but it was something both of them needed.
I watched my son turn eighteen years old, and get accepted to Boston University. I was so proud of Cole. He was a smart, talented young man who was going places. Even if he was never drafted into the NHL, I would be okay with it. I knew how badly he wanted that, but I would love him no matter what.
And I proposed to Dean again. Properly this time. And he said yes.
I knew Dean was scared that I was going to run again or push him away, but not this time. I learned my lesson. I loved him. I wanted him in my life. I needed him. One afternoon while he was out with Saint at one of his yoga classes, I took Asher with me so I could pick out a ring. He’d say I dragged him, but no one forced the man to find one for Saint at the same time. It worked out perfectly for both of us.
I had planned to wait. I wanted to make it a big, huge extravagant thing, but instead, the moment Dean walked into the apartment, dressed in leggings that clung to his muscledthighs and a tank top covered in sweat, I dropped to one knee, the box with the ring inside held out before me.
“Pink,” I whispered.
“What... Wait, are you serious right now?” He stared at me with wide, green eyes.
I nodded. “Marry me. You know I want to spend forever with you.” I couldn’t even stop the tears that slipped down my cheeks. When he didn’t answer, I got worried he would say no again. Maybe he wasn’t ready. “I mean, only if you want to do the same.”
We loved one another. We had found the cutest house in North Carolina, right on a lake. I couldn’t wait to move there and spend lazy days doing nothing with him now that I had officially retired from the NHL.
