He stared at her for a long beat, amusement briefly eclipsing the nerves. “Wow. If that’s your idea of a pep talk, it needs work.”
She laughed, and it was such a joyful sound that Bennett couldn’t help but smile back. Sandro’s parents were here too, but Bennett had lost them in the crowded lobby.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier,” Mom said, straightening the lapels of his leather jacket, “but you look very handsome.”
Bennett grunted. “Thanks. David had his stylist dress me. I think he was worried I’d show up in ripped jeans and a T-shirt.”
“Would you have?”
“I mean, probably.”
Mom sighed theatrically. “You have no class. That’s my fault.”
Bennett’s jaw dropped. “Jeez. Someone’s feeling sassy today.”
“Who’s feeling sassy?” Sandro asked, appearing at Bennett’s side.
“There you are.” Mom kissed his cheek. “I was wondering where my son’s better half went.”
Sandro preened. “I knew you liked me best. And I was just in the restroom. Where’d you get the champagne?”
“Over there at the bar.” She pointed behind him. “Get some for Bennett too. He says he needs a dozen.”
Sandro’s expression softened, and he squeezed Bennett’s wrist. “You’ve got this. And hey.” He nodded over Bennett’s shoulder. “I think someone wants to talk to you.”
Bennett turned, and standing behind him was a woman wearing a lanyard identifying her as a reporter for a local news station.
“Rosa South.” She held out a hand with a smile. “And this is my camera operator, Lauren. Do you have a few minutes?”
“Of course.”
As he spoke with Rosa, Bennett kept his mom and Sandro in sight. Watching them laugh together filled something in him that he couldn’t describe. There was a sense of rightness to having them in the same room again that he hadn’t realized he’d missed until Sandro had accompanied him for a visit to his mom’s in Washington state a couple of months ago.
Things with Sandro were good. Really good. They’d both spent the summer splitting their time between LA and Burlington—and, in Sandro’s case, Tobermory. There’d been a week here and there where they’d been in different states—or different countries—but they’d had work to keep them busy.
Fifteen years ago, they’d been young twenty-somethings ready to take on the world. Except it turned out that Bennett hadn’t been ready to take on the world—or, at least, not the world he’d thought he’d wanted—and he’d pushed away the best person in his life.
Now? He was so ready to take on the world, and with his favorite person at his side, life would never be boring.
Last month, he’d given up his apartment in Los Angeles and officially moved in with Sandro. His work forced him to travel, just like Sandro’s, but when he wasn’t filming, he’d be in Burlington unless David needed him in LA.
Speaking of David, he ushered everyone into the auditorium. Feeling a little faint, Bennett sat between his mom and Sandro. His hands were sweaty. Hell, everywhere was sweaty, but if he removed his jacket, everyone would be able to smell his flop sweat.
“Hey,” Sandro said in his ear as the lights dimmed. He ran a hand along Bennett’s thigh. “Don’t worry. It’s an amazing series. We all told you so, remember?”
Select members of the Trailblazers’ organization, including most of the players, had already seen an early preview of all six episodes. And sure, everyone had told him it was good, but it wasn’t like they were going to tell him it sucked to his face.
Ramsey might have, but even he’d admitted that showcasing the players’ vulnerabilities and weaknesses, their pain and fears and tears, made the series stronger.
Bennett had nearly wept at that pronouncement.
And Sandro’s monologue to Eli about his rookie season, and Eli’s frustrations about how to survive under the pressure? They had made it into the first episode because the wellness initiative was a theme that tied the entire series together.
The audience quieted, eager for what was to come. The first episode began, Trailblazing the Way Forward appearing in block letters before an animated hockey stick sent them whirling off screen with a slapshot. Then, the opening scene, a montage of shots—a player tying his skates, a slow-motion clip of players walking down the chute, cheering fans, a player taping their stick—and over it, Bellamy Jordan’s voice.
“I wasn’t one of those kids who was constantly told he was a hockey phenom. Then scouts started coming around, and my coaches told me I had a real shot at being a pro hockey player.”
The video panned over Bellamy from behind, catching his last name on his jersey, then changed to a three-second highlight of Bellamy’s goals from last season.
