“I love you so much,” I tell him, pressing my lips to his.
“I love you too, two-time Stanley Cup champion.” He grins, and I let out a wet laugh.
“Oh, say that again, Lieutenant.”
He kisses me again, then takes my chin in his hand like he always does. “I love you, Elliot Olsen. Two-time Stanley Cup champion and the love of my life.”
I might have won the greatest trophy in the worldtwice, but this man right here? He’s the most perfect prize of all.
Epilogue
TWO YEARS LATER – AUGUST
Elliot
The dock is warm beneath my bare feet, the wooden slats heated by the afternoon sun. Throwing my arm back, I launch the ball down the sandy beach. Boomer and Moose chase after it, their tongues lolling out the side of their mouths as they run. Waffles trails behind, running as fast as her legs will take her. She can’t keep up with the boys, only having three legs, but she tries.
Boomer jumps in the air and catches the ball, and then Moose is chasing after him as they run back to me. Waffles hasn’t even made it halfway before she’s turning around and running back.
“You get ’em, Waffles!” I call out, clapping my hands for encouragement. “Show them who’s boss.”
We got Waffles about eighteen months ago when Hunter responded to a fire and found her with an injured leg. He took her to the vet, only to find out she was a stray, and her injured leg needed to be amputated. The thought of her being overlooked in the rescue center broke my heart, so I begged Hunter tolet us keep her. She’s a three-year-old chocolate Labrador and the sweetest girl ever. The name Waffles came about when she stole the waffles from Walt’s plate one morning when he wasn’t looking. It’s cute, just like her.
Moose is the latest addition, and we believe him to be around nine months old. Hunter found him too. He’d been abandoned in a box on the side of the road along with three of his siblings. I wanted to keep all of them, but Hunter said six dogs would be too many.
I think he’s wrong, but then he kissed me, and I kinda forgot my argument.
I keep telling him he’s like the dog whisperer for all the dogs who need a loving home. It’s a good thing we moved out of my apartment and into a house with a spacious yard when we did because we wouldn’t have been able to cope otherwise.
We moved into our house in Wicker Park after the season ended two years ago. Hunter was right about having a dog in my apartment, because in the five months after we got Boomer, having to take him up and down in the elevator every time he needed to go out proved to be annoying, especially if he needed to go in the middle of the night. We tried putting a patch of grass and some plants on the balcony, but Boomer wasn’t having any of it. He took one sniff at it and gave me a look as if to say, “This isn’t real grass!”
It was, but clearly, the boy has high standards.
One person who wasn’t happy about our move, though, was Blaine. It turned out that even after we turned thirty, we still had this inseparable bond and a need to be near each other. He eventually stopped beating himself over my late ADHD diagnosis, but in a way, it brought us closer. He started reading up on it and got a better understanding. We talk more openly now. My fear of being replaced has vanished, but I also think having Hunter helped with that.
Plus, he and Alex get on really well, and Hunter attends games with him whenever he isn’t working.
Then, three months after we moved in, the house next door to ours went on the market. Blaine bought it without even speaking to Alex. Luckily, Alex wasn’t mad about it, so now we’re living near each other again, and we have a gate connecting our backyards. Something the dogs love because it means playdates every day.
We bought this lake house in Kelowna, British Columbia, after we were knocked out of the playoffs last year. We spoke about maybe buying a second property for summer vacations and post-retirement but couldn’t decide on where. We looked at houses in Vermont, Washington, Saskatchewan, and Nova Scotia, then came across a listing for this house on the Okanagan Lake. Hunter took one look at the photos and fell in love instantly, so we arranged a viewing and made an offer the same day. It has five bedrooms, and it even has an elevator for when Walt comes to stay.
And the best thing is? There are river otters in my backyard.
I mean, they might be wild and technically live on the lake, but I still class them as my pets. I get to sit on the deck and watch them forage and bounce through the hedges. My dream has been fulfilled.
But our hopes of becoming Stanley Cup champions three years running came crashing down during the conference finals. It wasn’t helped by the multitude of injuries we were playing through. Me included. I sprained my groin again during the second round, but I continued to play up until the very end. My body was constantly covered in bruises from the sprain and various hits I was taking, but also from the regular anti-inflammatory injections I was having to take in order to play through the pain.
Hunter wasn’t happy one bit, but he gritted his teeth and supported me. Even so much as holding the ice packs on my body while I fell asleep on top of him.
But next season will be another chance, and I have a feeling it’s going to be our year.
I turn my head as Moose lets out a loud woof and spot Hunter making his way down the path. He shields his eyes from the sun with his hand and looks fucktastic in board shorts and a worn T-shirt.
The moment Waffles notices him, she forgets all about chasing the boys and makes a beeline for him, leaning against his legs as he rubs her chest. She adores Hunter. I’m pretty sure she hero-worships him.
Not that I can blame her. I worship Hunter too.
Boomer drops the slobber-covered ball at my bare feet, and I shudder at the wet feel.
