Page 247 of Risking the Pucking Defense

“Did you?”

She shrugs. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

“Fuck, Hails. I love you,” I say, gripping her hand and pulling it across the center console so I can kiss the back of it.

She doesn’t say it back; she’s not ready. But she doesn’t need to. I see it in her eyes every time she looks at me, in everything she does. Like right now, facing her fear just so she could get to me.

I will never forget what she did for me tonight.

Only a few minutes later, she pulls up in her underground garage and we both climb out.

I leave my stuff in the trunk to deal with tomorrow. Instead, I grab her hand and drag her to the elevator, desperate to discover if what she said about her panties is true. The second we’re inside, I back her up, and as soon as the doors are closed, I hike her thigh up and discover the truth.

EPILOGUE

HAILEE

Inever expected to find myself in the middle of my own media storm. But that’s exactly where I ended up in the days that followed my very public reaction to Hayden’s injury.

I wouldn’t change it for anything.

Of course, the majority of the commentary was negative. But that’s exactly what I expected. I’ve worked in this industry long enough to know how these things work, and I wasn’t disappointed. There were comments about me not being good enough, too old, too uptight, and a million and one other things. I won’t lie, despite telling myself that none of the comments matter, and to let them roll off my back, each one did sting a little.

Thankfully, the worst of it only lasted a couple of days before focus mostly turned elsewhere. That’s one thing you can guarantee in the world of professional sports: there will always be a new story that will take the spotlight from the previous one.

I could have gotten more involved professionally and had a lot of it removed, but with there being a very, very fine line between my private life and my professional life, I decided to let it all run its course. With the help of my manager, we put up an official statement across the Vipers socials, which included a quote from Anthony giving his approval and wishing us well, which thankfully helped to squash the calls for me to be fired.

Every day since then, things have gotten quieter and life has returned to normal. Well, as normal as life ever can be when you live in our world.

Hayden’s injury has been healing more every day. His stitches have been removed, and it’s beginning to look better. He’ll probably be left with a small scar, but I highly doubt it’ll be his last. He has a long future in the league ahead of him, and there will no doubt be countless injuries. We just have to pray that none of them are more serious than the one he suffered in San Diego.

Despite his concerns about his performance that night, he’s been named in the starting lineup ever since—something that he’s incredibly happy about, but he’s not taking it for granted. There have been increasing rumors of a trade happening recently, and every time it’s mentioned, his anxiety spikes. I’m confident that he’s not going anywhere, and I think secretly, he is too. For him, it’s more about who will come in, and if their presence will mean he’s shifted back down to the second line. All he can do is keep playing the best he can and trust that Coach knows what he’s doing. From what I can see, Hayden and Rett make an incredible partnership, and they’re only getting stronger with every game they play. We just hope that is enough.

“You haven’t changed pages in about twenty minutes,” Hayden points out, glancing from me to the book in my hands.

“Uh…I got a little lost in my thoughts,” I confess, dropping the paperback to my lap.

Hayden chuckles. “I thought you were desperate to know if they find her,” he teases, talking about the kidnapped girl in the series we’re reading. Predictably, he’s well ahead of me, but he’s doing a good job of keeping spoilers to himself.

“I do. My mind just wandered.”

He lowers his own book—the next one in the series—and turns his full focus on me. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just thinking about the last few weeks.”

“Not regretting it, I hope.”

I smile at him. “Never.” The media coverage of our relationship aside, everything has been perfect. We’ve spent as much time together as possible, which is challenging when we’re both so busy. And when he’s been on the road, I’ve hung out with Bea, Freya, and Casey. We’ve watched games together, been out for brunch, and been on shopping trips—mostly for baby Donnelly. They’re all things I never really got to do growing up, but I’m loving getting a do-over with the most incredible group of women.

“How’s your knee?” I ask, glancing down at the ice pack he has on it.

“It’ll be fine. I’ve got another session with Darcy in the morning. There isn’t a chance I’m missing tomorrow night’s game,” he says, smiling proudly at me.

Excitement flutters in my stomach.

I’ve officially got tomorrow night off work, and I’m attending my first Vipers game as a fan. No, not just a fan. As a WAG. I’m going to stand with Casey, Sutton, Freya, and Bea while proudly wearing my man’s jersey and scream bloody murder for him every time he steps out on the ice. I can’t freaking wait.

“You’d better be. I’d hate to have to switch my jersey last minute and support someone else,” I tease.