“You know my mom. She loves weddings.” He grins at me. “She’s already asked if my groomsmen will be all hockey players.”
“Maybe tell her to give us six months?” I laugh. “I think we deserve that before we consider ring shopping.”
His face falls. “That long? I was thinking three.”
“Are we seriously negotiating how soon we’re getting engaged?”
“Listen, Heart-Jammies, if you think I’m waiting around after this long—especially now that I’ve seen you in your tiny pajamas—you seriously overestimate my patience.”
I laugh so hard, I snort. “Okay, but don’t tell your family. They can’t keep a secret to save their lives. Or the hockey team—they’re even worse!”
“It’ll be our little secret.” He kisses my forehead, then the tip of my nose. “But you know what would make me really happy?”
“What?”
“If you said yes right now.”
I prop myself up on my elbows. “Brendan Marco, you don’t even have a ring!”
“I can arrange that by tomorrow.” He gives me a cocky smirk.
“After twelve years of waiting, I expect the whole proposal. I want to be surprised!”
He lifts an eyebrow. “You do? I thought you didn’t like surprises?”
“Usually, I don’t.” I grin. “But this is one I can get behind. So you’d better make it good,Coach.”
THIRTY-SIX
Epilogue
BRENDAN
Two Months Later
I hate waiting.
So when Scarlett negotiated us down to three months of dating before an engagement, she might as well have said three years. Because after waiting this long, every day has felt like eternity.
For the past two months, we’ve barely seen each other between my playoff schedule and her new partnership with the Marco women. I’d catch glimpses of her in the stands wearing a Crushers jersey, or she’d text me good luck before the game, but it wasn’t enough.
By the time we reach the Calder Cup Finals, it hardly seems possible we’re the same team that almost didn’t make the playoffs. But I always knew what this team was capable of.
Tonight, we prove it.
Thanks to a last-second shot by MacPherson in overtime, the entire arena erupts. Helmets fly. Sticks litter the ice. All the players pile on top of Brax.
After Scarlett, it’s the best moment of my life.
As we approach the locker room for the post-game speech,Coach Jenkins pulls me aside. “Marco, I want you to address the team tonight.”
“You want me to give the speech?” I glance past him to where Jakowski’s standing, arms crossed.
“No question.” Jenkins lays a hand on my shoulder. “You’ve earned your place on this coaching staff.” The look he gives me tells me he means it. This time, it has nothing to do with my uncle.
When I walk through the door, the locker room is in complete pandemonium—music blaring, guys dancing, towels flying.
As Brax sees me take Coach Jenkins’ spot in the middle of the room, he starts to chant, “Speech! Speech! Speech!” until the entire room is beating on lockers and yelling at the top of their lungs.