He turns, and the second he sees her, his whole face softens like a storm clearing. That crooked grin hits like a sucker punch.
Rowan’s already skating over, like he sensed her before he even saw her. And for once, all three of us are locked on the exact same thought.
Her.
“Let’s go,” I shout, already pushing off the ice, tearing toward the boards.
We skate like there’s no game, no scoreboard, no clock. Justher.
The cameras are spinning around, trying to keep up. Fans are screaming. Coaches are shouting, probably. We don’t hear any of it.
We reach the glass. She’s still holding the sign, eyes wide, breath visible in the cold air, but she doesn’t flinch.
Not when I kiss her first, fast and reckless and grinning against her mouth.
Not when Bruno leans in, kisses her hand with this quiet intensity like she’s sacred and he’s just remembered how to believe in something.
And not when Rowan cups her face in those big, callused goalie hands and kisses her like he’s anchoring himself to the world.
The jumbotron catches it. Freezes it in crystal clarity for the entire stadium to see. Us, tangled in this messy, impossibly perfect moment.
The crowd loses it again.
Flashing lights. Cell phone screens. Giddy, ear-splitting cheers.
And the announcer, laughing into the mic like even he’s gotten swept up in it, says, “Well, folks… ifthatdoesn’t inspire the team to win, I don’t know what will.”
He’s right. Because I haveneverfelt more inspired.
Not in my life. Not in this game. Not ever.
We’re not just playing for a trophy anymore.
We’re playing for her. For us.
And we’re not gonna let either one slip through our fingers again.
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
Jinx
Okay.
So I’ve just pulled the single most dramatic move of my life in front of a sold-out stadium, three incredibly hot hockey players, and approximately ten thousand strangers with camera phones.
And somehow? I’m not having a panic attack.
I’m… calm. Steady. Electrified, sure, but in a good way. Like someone plugged me directly into a romcom and hit play on the big kiss.
The arena smells like beer, popcorn, and about twenty years of sweat-soaked plastic seating, and I’m standing here in the middle of it all like I belong.
The crowd is losing its mind. People are chanting my name. Like, full-blown stadium chant, “JINX! JINX! JINX!”
A stranger just fist bumped me. Someone else threw a foam finger at my feet like it’s aHunger Gamestribute, and I’ve just volunteered as girlfriend.
And on the jumbotron?
Yep. That’s my face. Grinning like a maniac, probably blotchy from crying, and way too excited to care. I look like I just got proposed to and won a puppy. Which, honestly, tracks.
