Page 93 of Claimed By the Team


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"Maybe they were trying to impress someone," Jessica says pointedly, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes.

I blush, sure she's just reading into things. "Yeah, right."

"Just wait until playoffs," Luke says with a wistful sigh. "This looks like it'll be their best season yet."

Playoffs. I can't help but wonder if I'll still be around, still be part of this world. It's too soon to think that far ahead, too soon to imagine myself as a fixture in the lives of these men. And yet...

"Ms. Goodwin?" A staff member approaches our box. "If you and your guests would like to come with me, I can take you down to meet the team."

Jessica squeals, actually squeals, and Luke looks like he might pass out. I smooth down my sweater, suddenly nervous. It's one thing to see Darren and the others in private settings. It's another to meet them in their professional environment, surrounded by teammates and staff and media.

"Lead the way," I say, hoping my voice sounds more confident than I feel.

We follow the staff member through a maze of corridors, down to a restricted area where security checks our credentials before waving us through. The sounds of celebration grow louder, music blaring, voices shouting, and the occasional whoop of victory, until we're ushered into a room adjacent to the locker room.

"The team will be out shortly," our guide informs us. "Please help yourselves to refreshments while you wait."

The "refreshments" turn out to be an impressive spread of catered food and drinks that would put most wedding receptions to shame. Jessica immediately gravitates toward a chocolate fountain, while Luke paces nervously, straightening his Grizzlies jersey every few seconds.

"Relax," I tell him, though my own stomach is doing somersaults. "They're just people."

"Just people," he repeats incredulously. "Just people who are the best hockey players in the league. Just people who couldcrush me with one hand. Just people who are apparently all dating my sister-in-law."

"They're not all—" I start to protest, but the door swings open, cutting me off.

Jax enters first, freshly showered but still flushed from the game. His gray eyes scan the room, landing on our small group with a warm smile. "You made it," he says, crossing to us with that confidence that seems to follow him everywhere. "What did you think of the game?"

Before any of us can answer, the rest of the pack files in and their faces light up when they see me in a way I can't deny.

"Lexie," Darren says, my name like a prayer on his lips as he crosses the room. He hesitates just before reaching me, clearly unsure about appropriate greetings in front of my family. I solve the dilemma by stepping forward and hugging him, breathing in the clean scent of soap and that underlying woodsmoke that's all him.

"You were amazing out there," I tell him as we separate. "Congratulations on the win."

His smile is blinding. "You liked it? The game, I mean?"

"Loved it," I assure him. "I still don't understand half of what was happening, but Luke's play-by-play helped."

"We can work on that," Darren promises, then seems to remember we're not alone. He smiles at Luke and Jessica. "Good to see you guys again."

Luke, who's been standing frozen like a deer in headlights, manages a jerky nod. "Big fan," he croaks. "Huge fan. Of all of you. The team. Hockey. Everything."

Jessica rolls her eyes fondly. "You'll have to excuse my husband. He's having a minor panic attack from excitement."

"Trust me, I know the feeling. Recently, in fact," Jax says graciously, extending his hand to Luke. "Thanks for coming tonight. Always good to meet fans."

Luke shakes Jax's hand with the reverence of someone being granted an audience with royalty, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Jessica has no such restraint, snorting audibly before turning her attention to the chocolate fountain.

"Great sweater," Aidan says, gesturing to my modified Grizzlies gear. "I don't think I've seen that design before."

"Yeah, it looks amazing," Darren says, giving me an appreciative once over. "I've never seen our merch look this good."

"Oh. I uh, made it," I say, suddenly flustered. What if they think that's cheesy? Or pathetic?

"You made this?" Zayn asks, arching an eyebrow. He steps closer, examining the stitching with a critical eye. "From scratch?"

"Not entirely," I admit, feeling a flush creep up my neck at the attention. "I bought a standard sweater from the team store and modified it. Better fabric for the logo, took in the sides to fit a woman's body better, added some details."

"It's way better than our official merch," Aidan declares, looking genuinely impressed. "You should see the women's section in the team store. It's all pink and sparkly."