My joke makes him half smile. “Oh don’t worry, my therapist is very well compensated.”
A man in therapy? Add this to the things Maddox Gallagher does that aren’t supposed to be sexy but absolutely are. Actually, this might take the top spot on my list, which overtakes him wearing an apron and a backward hat.
“She’s helped me realize that I’m who I am because of what I’ve been through,” he continues. “Yeah, it sucks that I grew up without a dad. One day I hope I can be the dad I never got to have. But at the end of the day, I like the person I am. I hate thinking that I could be another version of myself. Sure, I’m not perfect. There are some things I’ve done I won’t do again, but at the end of the day, I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished and that I’m not a horrible guy.”
“Not horrible in the least.” We share a smile as a tiny blush comes across his cheekbones. “Do you think about that what-if? What your life might be like if he stayed?”
“Not really. Honestly, the one I think about the most is wondering if he’s watching me. If he sees the man I’ve become despite him. Did he see me win my rings? Did he watch my workouts at the draft combine? Does he tell people I’m his son? Or does he even care?”
Maddox is trying to be so strong right now, but I hear the slight crack in his voice.
“I bet he does, and he’s probably kicking himself for giving up the chance to be in your life,” I say. “And if he doesn’t care, or hates to see you successful, then fuck him and keep doing you. To me there’s no better revenge than thriving knowing people hate you for it.”
“The same can be said for you,” he says. “You thriving after your divorce? Your ex having to acknowledge it? Now that’s what I call sweet revenge.”
Fuck this arm rest.
I stand up and take the half step I need in order to situate myself on Maddox’s lap. Before he can ask what I’m doing, my lips are on his, kissing him with all the compassion and pride I can feel after that admission—and how he simultaneously made me realize something that I hadn’t even realized I was doing for myself.
If Maddox cares that we’re having a very PDA moment right now, he doesn’t show it. In fact, his arms are around my waist, holding me tight, as our kiss deepens into one that’s about to become not family friendly. I’m about to run my hands through his curly hair when I hear the tell-tale sound of one of the most iconic Prince songs of all time. And I can’t help but wonder if they’re playing this song because the name of it is exactly what we’re doing right now.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Looks like the Nashville Fury’s Maddox Gallagher is going to start off our Kiss Cam for this evening!”
We pull away and I immediately bury my face into Maddox’s neck. But him? He’s not shying away from it. I catch him out of the corner of his eye waving for all to see, a smile on his face from ear to ear. I turn my eyes a little more, which gives me a view of the Jumbotron directly above the ice. I see the two of us enclosed in a pink glitter heart as the song continues to blast through the arena.
“What do you say, Gabrielle? One more for the fans?”
I slowly pick my embarrassed face up from the hole I was trying to dig into his shoulder. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Make me do things I didn’t think I’d never ever do.”
He puts his hand on the back of my head. “I guess I’m a bad influence.”
Maddox pulls me in for another kiss, which gets a huge round of applause from the fans. When it quiets down, I have a feelingthe camera has panned off us, but that isn’t stopping us. It should. We’re in an arena with seventeen-thousand people. I’m sure there are videos being taken of us that will be all over social media before we leave tonight. But like I told Maddox, the best revenge is thriving. Being happy.
And that’s what I am. For the first time in a very long time, I’m happy. And that’s because of this man right here.
“I think we have a habit of creating public spectacles,” I say as I pull away enough to catch my breath.
“I think there’s worse things we could be known for.”
Maddox gives me one more kiss before I reluctantly move from his lap and go back to sitting in my actual seat. I don’t know what I expected from the game—I’ve watched less than five minutes of hockey in my entire life—but I’m enjoying it. It’s fast paced. A little violent. Blink and you could miss something.
“I don’t know how they do it,” I say as a shot goes flying toward the goalie.
“How do who do what?”
I point to the goalie. “The goalies. The pucks are coming so fast. And they’re wearing so many pads. How do they move their bodies like that?”
My observation makes Maddox smile. “I’m not sure. I never thought about it. But I can ask Finn for you.”
“You know the goalie?”
“Yeah, he’s a good guy. Solid karaoke singer. A little crazy, but from what I’ve heard that’s the standard trait of goalies. It’s why they’re the ones who signed up for getting pucks blasted at them.”
It’s like he could hear us talking about him, because at that moment, Finn makes another crazy save. I don’t know how he did it, but he went from a near split to all but leaping to his opposite side to make a save with his glove.
