I let her pull me away from Romeo, but not before he catches my hand and squeezes once.
The afternoon dissolves into exactly the kind of chaos Marnie predicted. Brody, naturally, ends up in the boards trying to show off. A group of kids commandeer one corner of the ice for an impromptu game of tag. The team splits into two groups for a scrimmage that’s more comedy than hockey.
I’m standing with the WAGs watching when I notice Mackie has gone very still beside me.
Her eyes are tracking someone on the ice.
I follow her gaze and find Almardon skating with a group of kids. He’s patient with them in a way that’s unexpectedly sweet, showing a little girl how to hold her stick properly, laughing when one of the boys tries to check him and bounces off like a pinball.
“He’s good with kids,” I say casually.
Mackie startles like she forgot I was standing there. “What?”
“Zach. He’s good with kids.”
“Oh. Yeah. I guess.” She’s blushing now.
Goldie appears beside us. “Of course he is. He’s got three of his own back in Vancouver.”
I blink. “Wait, he does?”
“Oh, you haven’t heard the team theory?” Elliot joins us. “Almardon has a secret wife and kids in Vancouver. It’s the only explanation for why he rarely goes out with the guys.”
“That can’t be true,” I say.
“Is it? I’ve never seen him with a girl? He rarely goes to the bar nights? Anything?” Goldie raises her eyebrows.
I look back at Almardon with the kids. He’s patient and gentle, and... actually, now that they mention it, he is really good with them.
“He doesn’t have a secret family,” I say, but I’m not entirely sure anymore.
I glance over to where Romeo is currently arguing with Dex about something that probably doesn’t matter. As if he can feel my eyes on him, he looks over and winks then he’s skating over to me with that smile that still makes my heart skip.
“Want to skate with me?” he asks, offering his hand.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
I take his hand and let him pull me forward. We skate together, his hand warm around mine.
“This is nice,” I say.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I look up at him. “Thank you. For the blades. For tonight. For everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me for everything.”
“I do when you make me this happy.”
He stops skating and pulls me closer, right there in the middle of the ice with his teammates and their families skating around us.
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you too.”
He kisses me and somewhere in the background someone, probably Dex, makes an exaggerated gagging sound. We ignore them.
“Playoffs start in two weeks,” he says when we break apart.
