I let the coordinator know to introduce her, and a moment later, I stand on the bench, waiting.
“And for the first time on the Vancouver Storm bench,” the announcer calls, and the arena goes quiet,“Jordan Hathaway!”
Jordan appears, and noise explodes in the arena from the fans. The Storm players tap their sticks on the ice to show their support. On the jumbotron hanging from the roof, her face appears.
She gives me a small smile, glancing around. Behind us, fans take pictures of her. “I didn’t expect this.”
“You’re not just mine, Jordan.” I tilt my chin to the arena. “You’re theirs.”
CHAPTER 91
JORDAN
“More strawberries?”I ask Hazel as the group of us gets coffee down the street from the arena and Hazel grabs a container of strawberries from the cafe’s display case.
Game seven in the Stanley Cup finals is tonight, and if we win, the Cup is ours.
Excitement flutters in my stomach, up my throat. Finally, we’re here.
“Dude.” Hazel points at her ever-expanding bump. “This baby loves them. I can’t get enough. I eat three bowls a day.”
“Your hair looks great, though,” Georgia says with a grin, and Hazel gives it an exaggerated toss over her shoulder as the rest of us laugh.
“Are we getting this for here or to go?” Darcy asks at the counter.
“I have time.” I have a meeting with my dad in an hour. He probably just wants to talk about the game tonight. Tate’s with Bea all morning, and I told him I’d handle the meeting so they could spend more time together.
We finish ordering and I put it on the business card—internal development meeting,I say when they protest. Hazel and I find a free table while Georgia, Darcy, and Pippa wait for the drinks at the counter.
“Are you nervous about being a mom?” I blurt out when we sit down, and Hazel blinks at me.
I think of Bea, so young and impressionable and sweet and innocent.“Aren’t you worried that you’ll mess the kid up more?” She gives me a shocked look, and I shake my head. “Sorry, that came out all wrong.”
She laughs. “It’s okay. I know what you mean. Yes, I’m nervous. It’s a lot of responsibility. My parents aren’t perfect, though. Far from it. They try, though, and they love me, and that’s what matters.”
Something clicks inside me, that locking-into-place feeling I get when I’m with Tate or Bea. I can try. I can love Bea with my whole heart.
“And I have Rory,” she says simply. “We’re in this together.”
Her words settle everything inside me. I have Tate. Holly and Jeff, too, from the way they treated me at her birthday dinner, like I was already part of the family.
The rest of the group has just sat down at the booth when my phone starts buzzing.
“Sorry,” I tell them, pulling it out. “I’ll put it on silent.”
My phone has been inundated with notifications, though. A handful of missed calls, from unknown numbers and the Storm’s head of PR. Around the booth, everyone’s phones start pinging and chiming.
A bad feeling trickles through my stomach, cold and clammy.
“Oh, no,” Darcy murmurs, eyes on her phone, just as I open the link the PR person texted me, along with a request to call her immediately.
It’s a sports site known for gossip.Storm head coach Tate Ward having affair with owner Ross Sheridan’s daughter,the headline says.
Included is a photo of Tate and me on the ferry to the summer house, when we thought no one was looking. The moment he tookmy hand. He’s gazing down at me and I’m smiling up at him and our feelings for each other are undeniable.
I can’t breathe. My stomach drops through the floor and numbness begins to wash over me.
So this is why he keeps her around,one commenter writes.
