His fingers are laced through mine like he's anchoring me to him, which is probably smart because I still feel like I'm floating somewhere outside my body.
One hundred and seven thousand, eight hundred and fifty dollars.
The number keeps bouncing around in my head like a pinball, too big to fully process.
That's not just money.
That's three years of operating costs. That's the new AC unit, the roof repair, the quarantine room expansion, updated medical equipment. That's an actual wage for Zoe if she really does want to become my after-school kennel hand after her work experience is up.
My wildest dreams have now been made real by this incredible man who apparently decided my shelter was worth moving mountains for.
"Make way! Make way for Iron Ridge royalty!" Eli Thompson's booming voice cuts through the noise as he pushes through the crowd with a massive grin and what appears to be champagne. Actual champagne, not beer, which means this is serious business by Ridgeview Tavern standards.
"Eli, you don't have to—" I start, but he's already climbing onto the nearest chair, champagne bottle raised high above his head.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" he roars, and somehow his voice manages to cut through the din. "CAN I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION!"
The tavern gradually quiets to a dull roar, all eyes turning to the legendary Icehawks hero who looks like he's about to deliver a championship speech.
"Tonight, we witnessed something special," Eli continues, his voice carrying the kind of emotion that makes grown hockey players get misty-eyed. "Not just on the ice, though our boys played their hearts out. But something bigger. Something that shows what Iron Ridge is really about."
He gestures toward Ryder and me, and I feel my cheeks burn as hundreds of eyes focus on us.
Please don't make a speech about me. Please don't make this more overwhelming than it already is.
"This young lady," Eli points directly at me, "has been taking care of our community's forgotten animals for years. Asking fornothing, expecting nothing, just doing what needs to be done because it's right."
Oh God.My throat tightens as murmurs of agreement ripple through the crowd.
"And tonight, because of one hell of a hockey player who knows a good woman when he sees one," Eli grins at Ryder, "we raised..."
He pauses for dramatic effect, the entire tavern holding its breath.
"ONE HUNDRED AND NINETEEN THOUSAND, SIX HUNDRED AND TWENTY DOLLARS!"
The explosion of noise that follows is deafening. Cheers, whistles, applause, and enough hollering to wake the dead. The number is mind boggling, and I realize it's somehow grown even higher since the game ended.
My vision goes a little blurry around the edges, and I'm grateful for Ryder's hand keeping me steady because my knees just went weak.
"Mia?" Ryder's voice is soft and concerned near my ear. "You okay, babe?"
I turn to look at him, this gorgeous man who just turned my entire world upside down in the best possible way, and the emotion hits me all at once.
He did this. For me. For the animals. For dreams I never dared voice out loud.
"I can't..." My voice cracks, and I have to stop talking before I completely lose it in front of half the town. "Ryder, I can't believe you did this."
"I can't believe you didn't just tell me off for calling youbabe." His smile is soft and proud and so full of love it makes my chest ache. He wraps a big arm around me and squeezes. "Believe it, beautiful. Every penny."
Around us, the celebration continues.
Logan and Emma have claimed a corner booth, her laptop open as she frantically types what looks like social media updates while he feeds her bites of nachos. A group of fans has cornered Jackson near the dartboard, and he's patiently signing jerseys while nursing a beer.
The entire defensive line seems to be engaged in an increasingly heated debate about whether tonight's win was more about skill or luck.
Then Sophia appears at my elbow with a champagne flute that's bubbling merrily.
"Drink this," she orders. "You look like you're about to pass out."
