One Pucking Destiny (Crane Hockey #4)

Chapter 26

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SIX

ARI

I slide the navy blue jersey over my head and stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. The white number 11 across my chest looks good as if I was always meant to wear it. And, if I’m to believe Bash, I was. The fact is, I do believe him. I trust that man with my life, and I’m finally ready to trust him with my heart.

The things he said to me yesterday were the gut punch I needed. Pushing my stubborn pride to the side, I can admit that he was right about all of it. It comes as no surprise that Bash knows me better than I know myself.

Yesterday evening was spent in a pool of self-made misery trying to put a finger on when my life spiraled so far off course. In an effort to excel in my profession and reach my goals, I somehow became a stunted version of myself in all other aspects of my life.

I suppose I felt safe constantly pushing Bash away because I knew he’d always come back. And I hoped that I’d eventually be ready when he did. Yet fear is a scary thing. It had me locked up so tight I almost lost him forever.

The rational part of my brain realizes that Bash’s words should’ve been common knowledge. Logically, I’m smart enough to understand it all. However, the self-preservation skills ingrained in me from birth were fierce. I was raised to protect myself at all costs, and I did so even when it was detrimental to my happiness.

Watching Bash walk away yesterday broke something within my soul. Maybe he would’ve come back, as he’s always done—the lovestruck masochist who will forever fight for me. Or perhaps he was done fighting. Either way, I couldn’t risk losing him. As it turns out, of all the fear I’ve harbored over the years, the greatest of all was the fear of losing him.

How could I ever take that chance?

Bash is the love of my life. He’s a beacon of goodness. He’s beautiful, sweet, loyal, and funny. He’s perfect and loves me. I can no longer take that for granted. Because he’s right—no one could ever love me the way he does .

I shoot my mom a text, letting her know I’ll be at our seats in a few minutes. It’s game seven of the Stanley Cup finals against Vancouver in our home arena. My mom was due to give birth over a week ago, yet she insists on being here for her husband, and I get it. There is something special about these Crane men.

The arena is packed with rowdy fans. There’s a palpable buzz in the air as chants and songs sound inside the dome. While I’ve never been a sports girl, I get it now. Being here among the fans brings unmatched excitement. The love surrounding me, for both the players and this game, feels like a giant hug of happiness. The joy it brings is addicting. It only takes truly experiencing it to understand it, and now I do.

I weave through a sea of blue jerseys, trying to get to the tunnel leading to the locker rooms. The security guard’s back is turned away from me as he deals with another fan, and I sneak by. I’m sure there’s a better way to get access, but I’m not familiar with the building. I have a single driving force, getting to Bash. He needs to know where I stand before the game starts, and I have to tell him in person.

I run into Penny in the tunnel leading to the locker rooms. “I need to talk to Bash.”

She looks me up and down, her brows knit in confusion. “They’re kind of busy.”

“I know. It will only take a second, but it’s really important. I need to speak to him before the game,” I plead.

“Let me check and see if he can step away. Wait here.” She takes off through the double doors, and I wait, rocking back and forth on my feet.

Seconds later, Bash pushes through the door. He immediately notices my jersey, and the most beautiful smile forms on his face.

I run toward him and throw my arms around him, crashing my lips to his. “I choose you. I choose you,” I promise between kisses.

“For real?” He moves his head back, holding my stare.

“For real.” I cradle his face in my hands. “Forever.”

I giggle as Bash peppers kisses all over my face. “I love you so much.” The pure happiness in his voice sends a bolt of love right through me.

“I love you, too. Now go win that Cup.” I give him a final kiss.

“Fuck yeah.” He grins, supplying my ass with a quick smack. “This is the best day ever.”

He walks backward toward the locker room doors, and I blow him a kiss.

“Hey, Ari,” he calls out. “You look damn fine in that jersey.”

I do a little curtsy. “Thanks! I think eleven’s my number. ”

“It sure is.”

I mouth, “I love you,” one more time as Bash gives me a final backward glance, and the smile on his face quiets every fragment of doubt still clinging to my soul until all that’s left is love.

The third and final round of the Cup finals is about to begin, and I’m so excited I can barely sit still.

“You get it now?” Iris teases from my side.

“Oh my gosh. Do I ever. This is single-handedly the most stressful and exhilarating day of my life,” I say with a grin.

Beckett’s mom leans over her daughter and puts a hand on my leg. “It’s always that way. It never gets easy or less exciting.” She chuckles.

“Yeah, we’ve been watching Cade and Beckett play since they were ten years old,” Iris adds.

I think of Bash and my future life with him, and my heart smiles. I wonder if we’ll have little kids who are obsessed with hockey. If they’re anything like their father, I’m sure we will.

As if she can read my mind, Iris whispers, “Nice jersey.” She winks.

“Thanks. ”

“So you two going to make it public knowledge any time soon?”

“How did you know?” I ask her.

She giggles. “Because I have eyes.”

Her response causes me to laugh. “Well, my mom hasn’t noticed, so I thought we were pretty sneaky.”

“Elena has a lot going on. If she wasn’t two years pregnant and uncomfortable as hell, she probably would’ve caught on. How late is she again?”

“Ten days.”

“Yikes.”

“I know. I feel bad for her, but I’m glad she gets to be here for the game.” I look at the empty seat to my other side and wonder why she isn’t back yet. The game is about to resume. “Anyway, I’ll tell her tonight. We actually just made it official today.”

“Really? Haven’t you guys been hot and heavy since bye week?”

“Iris!” I cover my mouth, suppressing a laugh. “We actually first met in September. One-night stand on my twenty-second birthday.” I point my finger toward her. “Which I will not be telling my mother. Then we ran into each other again during bye week.”

“Scandalous.” Iris shoots me a wink. “Well, I know all about the magic of bye weeks. That’s where Cade and I first hooked up, too… in Barbados.”

My phone buzzes, and a text from my mom comes through, telling me to meet her in the VIP box. “Uh, my mom wants me to meet her in the VIP box. I’ll see ya.”

I hurry to the VIP box, worried about the sudden location change. I peek inside, but when I don’t see my mom yet, I wait outside the door. She shows up a few seconds later, looking out of breath.

“Mom, are you okay? Are you in labor?”

“Yes,” she answers, and her mouth falls open. “I have been all game, but the contractions are starting to get intense. So I need you to get word to Beckett that I’ll be in the box for the last period. Do not tell him I’m in labor. Just say my feet are swollen, and I’m going to sit up here. He’ll buy that, considering how swollen my feet have been, and this VIP area has the most comfortable cushioned seats.”

She closes her eyes and holds her belly.

“Mom. You need to go to the hospital. I’ll go with you.”

“No! I’m staying. I can make it another twenty minutes.”

I huff out a breath. “That’s with no stops or overtime. You know we’re currently tied with Vancouver, right?”

“I can do this. Labor takes hours and hours. Just please tell Beckett where I am. He’ll worry when he doesn’t see me, and I don’t want it to affect his game. ”

“Okay, then I’m coming back up here and sitting with you, and if a baby’s head pops out between your legs, I’m taking you in.”

“Deal.”

I run back to our seats and let the Feldmores know what’s going on. Iris tells me to go be with my mom, and she’ll let Beckett know we’re in the VIP box. She promises to run with the swollen feet story and leave out the labor part.

Rejoining my mom in the box, she does a double take when she notices Bash’s jersey number across my chest. “Why are you wearing Bash’s jersey?”

I look down at my attire with a look of indifference. “Oh, I didn’t really even think about the number. I forgot all my Cranes clothing in my apartment, so I picked one up in the store downstairs before the game started. I just grabbed the first jersey in my size.”

“Oh, okay.” She seems to buy it.

I intend to tell her about my new relationship, but she has more important things on her mind, like not turning this VIP box into a delivery room. With the nervous glances the other occupants keep throwing her way, I know they’d also appreciate that.

This game has turned into a punching bag for my heart. I’m torn between worrying about my mother, who literally screams into a pillow every couple of minutes, and watching Bash in awe of how he moves across the ice. How did I never realize how insanely sexy hockey players are?

Three minutes left in the game, and we’re still tied, two to two. It’s been a stressful back-and-forth game with both opponents equally matched with talented players.

“If this goes into overtime, I may die,” my mom cries out. My face morphs into one of horror. “It’s a joke, my love.”

I roll my eyes. “Not a funny one, Ma.”

Two minutes left.

“Come on!” Mom and I cheer in unison.

One minute left.

“Please, sweet baby Jesus. Come on, baby!” my mom screams.

I steeple my hands in front of my face, praying for Bash and his team to win this.

Thirty seconds left.

The Cranes have possession. Cade races down the ice with a Vancouver player by his side. Bash breaks free of his defender and rushes the man on Cade, slowing him down just enough to give Cade an opening. His stick smacks the puck, and it slices in the air toward Beckett, who has a defender blocking him. Beckett turns toward the boards, and faster than I’ve seen anyone skate, he spins around his defender. Shards of ice fly around him as he circles the Vancouver player until he’s between him and the puck.

Beckett stops the moving puck with his stick and, without a moment’s hesitation, slaps the puck toward the Vancouver goal. Halko, the goalie, lunges toward the corner of the net, his gloves missing the puck as it whips by and hits the back of the net.

The buzzer sounds, and the stadium explodes.

I scream in celebration, tears streaming down my face. Bash shoots a quick look up to the box, and my heart rejoices with his. He looks happier than anyone in the world. Mom and I jump up and down, hugging one another as tears fall. The roar of the crowd is so loud the stadium vibrates. The Cranes rush on the ice and fall over one another in a giant huddle of celebration.

I can’t wait to get to Bash and throw my arms around him. I want to kiss him until we both lose our breath. I’ve honestly never felt this much love toward another person, and it physically hurts to be away from him. Now that I’ve allowed the walls to fall and my heart to feel, I’m never going back. I’ll never get enough of this feeling. I’ll chase it for the rest of my life. Thankfully, I won’t have to run far because Bash will be there every time. There’s not a doubt in my mind.

My mom groans loudly .

“Are you okay?” I pull my attention away from the celebration on the ice.

She’s crying hysterically and holding her belly with a huge smile on her face. “Never better!”

The giant silver cup is brought out onto the ice and handed to Beckett. He raises it over his head and roars, skating in a circle, hyping the fans up. He meets the rest of the team in the middle of the ice, and the guys cheer, raising their hands up to touch the Cup.

I watch the sight before me, smiling as more tears fall. At this moment, I see my future. This man, these people, and, the most surprising of all, this sport have crept into my soul, and I never want them to leave.

Mom grabs my arm as she doubles over in pain. “We gotta go. Come on.”

Stealing a final glance toward the ice, I commit the scene and the feeling it brings to memory, then I help my mom out of the building and to her car.

She calls Iris as I race to the hospital.

I swerve into the emergency room circle drive. A hospital employee in scrubs comes out to meet us, and I jump out of the car.

“She’s having a baby like right now.”

In minutes, we’re set up in a room, and Mom’s being told to push. She holds my hand, crying and begging for Beckett .

“You have to start pushing. The baby is ready,” the doctor says.

“No! I can’t. Not without my husband.” She clings to my arms, and looking at me, she sobs, “I need Beckett.”

Tears fall down my cheeks, and at this moment, I truly see how much she loves him, the thought making me cry harder. I’m on emotional overload. My mom has never needed anyone, and she finally feels safe enough to need someone. I’ve never seen her this vulnerable, and I don’t want her to be afraid. I want this birth to be a beautiful experience for her. She didn’t get a positive experience when she had me. She was barely an adult—young, alone, and scared. Everyone who had claimed to love her abandoned her. This is her second chance at love and motherhood. This time, she’s infinitely loved and surrounded by people who would do anything for her. This time, she’s the love of Beckett’s life, and she deserves that.

I think of how long she fought for us. It was just me and her against the world. She’s always been so strong, giving me a beautiful life and sacrificing so much in an attempt to make sure I never felt unloved or unwanted. Now my heart rejoices that she doesn’t have to fight anymore. Neither of us do. We can just be loved.

“I’m here!” Beckett sprints into the room. His hair is still wet with sweat, and it’s clear he changed out of his pads and uniform at record speed. He wears a random pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt as he races toward us. “I’m here, baby.”

“Oh thank God,” Mom cries, releasing my hands.

Beckett wraps an arm around her shoulders and holds her hand as if she’s the most precious person in the world.

Taking a step back, I watch the scene unfold from the corner of the room and cry.