“Such a charmer.”
Chapter One
DECLAN - TEN YEARS LATER
“Fucking champs, baby!”
Knocking shot glasses with Cash, I glug back the tequila shot. I’ve lost track of how many I’ve had tonight. When you win the Stanley Cup, you’re allowed to have as many as you want.
“Couldn’t have done it without you, Paddy!” Cash kisses my temple after he finishes his own. “That last goal in the third was a thing of beauty.”
I smile, thinking about the errant shot that somehow ended up in the back of the net, sealing our victory. On home ice, no less.
The gleaming cup is sitting on top of the bar. Everyone has been crowded around it all night. After each of us drank champagne from it in the locker room, we moved the after-party to a nearby bar that Bex reserved for us.
“Hey, you set me up for it.”
“Nah. All you, kid.”
“Kid? You realize I’m the same age as you, right?”
Cash waves me off. “You just got here. You feel like a kid to me.”
“Well, this kid needs more shots.” I flag down the bartender and order two more.
“Don’t you two think you’ve had enough?” Piper, Cash’s girlfriend sidles up to him and wraps her arms around his waist.
“How many times do we get to celebrate a Stanley Cup, Princess?” Cash asks her.
“Well, considering this is the second time in two years, I’d say the chances are good.”
The bartender drops off the two shots and I hold them up. “All the more reason to take them.”
“One more and then we can go home,” Cash tells her, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “We have to celebrate on our own.”
“And I’m out.” I take the shot and slam the glass on the wooden bar top.
The two of them don’t even notice I’m gone, swept up in their own love bubble. Staggering away from the bar, I know I’m at my limit.
But fuck, who cares? I’ve never won anything before.
Peewee hockey? Always came in second.
Frozen Four? Never even came close in college.
Nashville Knights? I don’t think our coach knew what the term winning meant.
This is the best feeling in the world.
Spotting a blonde head over the rest of the crowd, I head in that direction. I’d recognize that bun anywhere. Even drunk.
“Hey, Froggie.”
“Hey, champ.”
Scooching into the booth that Alice is sitting in, I rest my head on the table. “New nickname?”
She shrugs a shoulder. “For now. Until you lose the title.”
