“Yeah.” Emmy’s smile softens. She plays with the wedding ring on her finger and puts her hand on her stomach. “He has.”
“Can I get you anything? A drink? Another pillow that needs to be fluffed?” I catch a glimpse of Hannah standing across the living room socializing with Piper, Liam’s wife and the Stars’ color commentator. I avert my eyes back to the redhead on the couch. “Something else?”
“I’m fine, thanks.” She cranes her neck, finding the source of my lapse in attention, but doesn’t call me out. “Maverick spent all morning wondering if you were going to stop by. He owes me fifty bucks.”
“Betting on me? Not sure how I feel about that.”
“More like believing in you.”
“Thanks, Hartwell. You sure you don’t need anything?”
“I promise I’m good. Thanks for coming, Coach.”
Liam acknowledges me with a grunt I return with a nod. Ethan forces me to take a photo with him for social media. He uploads it, and within three minutes, it already has thousands of likes. Hudson brings me by to say hello to Madeline, his girlfriend. Lucy, her daughter, looks at the friendship braceletson my wrist, and when I give her one to keep, she signsthank youwith a giggle.
“She loves bracelets,” Hudson tells me. “Doubt we’re ever going to get her to take it off.”
“So does my daughter. She makes me a new one every game. I keep most of them in my office, but I always wear a few so she knows I appreciate them.”
“Dinner is ready,” Maverick announces, and Lexi gives my arm a pat as she slips past with a stack of plates. “Ladies and kids first, then the heathens can be let loose. Easy E. What the hell are you doing? Get to the back of the line.”
“God dammit,” Ethan mutters, pouting. “I’m hungry.”
“You’re going to be fine. G-Money. Can’t you put your notebook away for two seconds? I swear you’re attached to that thing.”
“Sorry, Cap.” Grant grins and tucks a small black leather notebook in his back pocket along with his phone. “Important things require my attention.”
“Coach.” Riley slides up next to me. “Guess what?”
“What’s up, Mitchell?” I ask.
“Marcus called,” he says, mentioning his agent. “The Comets’ coaching staff is proud of my progression at practice. They’re eyeing a game in December for me to make my AHL debut.”
“Holy shit.” I grab him by the shirt and pull him into a hug. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”
“Me too.” He laughs and takes off his glasses, wiping his eyes. “Don’t say anything to the guys. It’s not a sure thing yet, and I don’t want them to know until I’m positive it’s going to happen.”
“My lips are sealed. I promise.”
“Thanks.” He waves at Lexi, color invading his cheeks. “Glad you’re here today.”
“Me too,” I say, meaning it.
Everything around me is chaotic and loud. I let the guys grab food first, hanging back and waiting my turn. After I fill my plate, I scan the long table in the center of the living room, looking for a place to sit.
There aren’t many empty spots, but I see an open chair next to Hannah. Her body is turned, deep in conversation with Ryan Fitzpatrick’s wife, and I make my way over to her.
“Need anything, Coach?” Maverick asks, and I shake my head.
“No. Everything looks delicious.”
“It was a group effort.”
He grins, focusing his attention on Emmy. I remember the days I’d find him stumbling into the hotel lobby at away games with two girls under his arms, but now he’s looking at his wife like there’s no one else in the room.
I guess when someone’s the center of your universe, everyone else ceases to exist.
“Grant cried when he saw you,” Hannah says when I squeeze myself into the chair next to her. My knees barely fit under the table, and I accidentally bump her leg. “Like, actual tears.”
