My vision blurs with wetness, but I’m not going to lose it now. Not yet; there’s too much game ahead of us.
The first period is over before I know it, and the Hawkeyes are up by one. Seeing Scottie out on the ice in person put a whole new perspective on it… on a life here, with him. Being a hockey player's wife and what that would entail.
Then, out of nowhere, the announcer’s voice booms through the arena, and my face is on the Jumbotron.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special recognition tonight. Please welcome the newest member of the Pacific Northwest Ballet Company, and the wife of Hawkeyes winger Scottie Easton—Katerina Easton.”
My heart lurches at hearing someone else say my married name, and at the surprise of the announcer calling out my spot on the PNB. I wasn’t expecting that. Scottie must have asked the announcer to do it.
Scottie skates past the bench, spots me instantly, and points. A clean, deliberate point. Like the entire arena should know exactly who he’s proud of. Someone behind me taps my shoulder and tells me to stand and wave. It feels crazy to do it here, where I’m not a star, but I do it, and the crowd erupts, and then I realize what Vivi meant by the vibration of applause being felt by your ancestors. I can’t hold back my smile, and then I take a seat.
Then he disappears down the tunnel, leaving me with a heart slamming so hard I’m convinced everyone can hear it.
I’m in love with him.
I know it now. No… I’ve known about it for a while now.
I’ve known it in pieces—quiet moments, soft touches—but Scottie publicly claiming me in front of twenty thousand people… It’s the first time it feels more real than ever before.
After the end of the game and the media, I wait with the other wives and girlfriends until he emerges, exiting the locker room dressed out of his media suit into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and smiling with a win on his face.
He sees me, and his whole face softens.
“KitKat.” He pulls me into his chest and holds me like he’s been waiting all day.
“Are you ready to celebrate?” he murmurs against my hair and then kisses the side of my temple.
“More than ready.”
The rest of the night is a blur of celebration. The Hawkeyes win, my win… it can’t get any better than this, and I know it.
“Bro, your wife made the Jumbotron,” Hunter adds with a grin. “She’s officially more famous than you.”
“She already was,” Luka smirks.
I elbow him, and he smirks like the protective big brother he pretends not to be.
Scottie curls his arm around my waist, not possessively, but steadily. Like he’s keeping me close without even thinking about it.
And I love it more than I should.
Drinks come out, and someone hands Scottie a beer he doesn’t even drink before he sets it aside to grab my hand instead.
“Come with me,” he says, pulling me behind him through the crowd of people. He stops at one of the pool tables.
“This is it,” Scottie says, tapping the edge. “The exact table where I made the best losing bet of my life.”
“The best losing bet?”
He turns to me, his hands landing on my hips as he faces me. He lowers his head to my ear, and I instinctively wrap my arms around his neck to welcome him closer. His voice is low enough that only I hear.
“That bet gave me you.”
My breath catches, and then he pulls back, just long enough for our eyes to catch, and then he stares down at my lips, wetting his. I send up a small prayer that he kisses me… right now.
His mouth finds mine like I hoped it would. His kisses me once, twice, then deeper. He kisses me like we’re alone, like there are no eyes, no noise, no universe but this. His hands slide up the sides of my torso, leaving goosebumps everywhere he touches, until his hands cradle my jaw, tilting my mouth exactly how hewants me, kissing me like he’s been waiting since the second he saw me on the jumbotron.
The bar goes feral behind us. Cheers and whistles… someone banging a glass on the table, but all I feel is him.
