Groans rippled through the room. Schedule changes were never fun, especially mid-trip.
“I know, I know, but it also means we get an extra day in Edmonton before that game, so consider it a wash.” Coach glanced at his clipboard. “Room assignments are staying the same for the rest of the trip. Grab your stuff and be in the lobby by 6 p.m.”
The meeting broke up, guys scattering to pack and prepare for another flight. I was halfway to the elevator when Erik fell into step beside me.
“Hey, Cap. Got a minute?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
Erik glanced around, checking that no one was within earshot, then lowered his voice. “I have news, big news. I was going to wait until we were back in Tampa, but I can’t keep it in anymore. If I don’t tell somebody, I’m going to explode.”
“I’m not fuckin’ cleaning that up, so you’d better tell me.”
He grunted a nervous chuckle. Something had the big guy worked up. He looked different, lighter, like a weight had been lifted that he hadn’t even realized he was carrying.
“What kind of news?”
His face split into a grin—a real one, not the controlled half smile he usually deployed. “I asked Linnea to marry me.”
I stopped walking. “What?”
“Saturday night, after the game. I video-called her from the hotel room and . . . just did it. I know it’s not classy or romantic, proposing over FaceTime, but I couldn’t wait. I’d been carrying the ring for weeks, planning to do it when we got home, but then we won in overtime and I was so happy, and she was so happy, and it felt right.”
“Erik . . .” I was struggling to process. “What did she say?”
His grin widened untilmycheeks hurt. “She said yes.”
“Holy shit.” I pulled him into a hug right there in the hotel hallway. “Congrats, man. That’s incredible.”
“Thanks, Cap.” His voice was rough against my shoulder. “I still can’t believe it. Every time I think about it, I get this stupid smile on my face that I can’t control.”
I pulled back, and sure enough, the smile was still there—huge and unguarded and un-Erik-like.
“When are you telling the team?”
“Tonight, I think. On the plane, maybe. Or at dinner in Calgary.” He shook his head. “I haven’t figured out the logistics yet. I needed to tell someone first.”
“I’m honored to be your someone.”
“You’re my captain and my friend.” Erik’s expression turned serious for a moment. “You know, a year ago, I never would have done this, proposed, I mean. I kept telling myself I wasn’t ready, that the timing was wrong, that I needed to focus on hockey.”
“What changed?”
“I stopped lying to myself.” He shrugged, like it was simple. “I realized I was scared, and the fear was making me miss out on something real. Once I admitted that . . . everything got easier.”
The words landed somewhere uncomfortable in my chest.
I stopped lying to myself.
Fear was making me miss out on something real.
“Anyway,” Erik said, his grin returning, “Thanks for letting me get that out without spraying Viking everywhere. I should go pack. See you in the lobby at six?”
“Yeah. Congrats again, Erik. Really. This is awesome.”
He clapped me on the shoulder and disappeared down the hallway, leaving me standing alone with the echo of his words.
Erik told the team at dinner that night, after we’d landed in Calgary and settled into yet another hotel. The restaurant erupted.
