Second Shot K.O.K (The Brooklyn Bears: Season 1)

24. Suprise

TWENTY-FOUR

SUPRISE

Koa

T he bus is silent as we leave Boston after our first loss, heading to Philly instead of back to Brooklyn for a few hours. Coach D is pissed, but not any more than the rest of us.

Fucking Johnson.

Deacon is back on the ice tomorrow. I heard whisperings they’re bringing Hank back up again, and I really hope it’s true. Dash wanted to text him, and I reminded him that if we were in his situation and we got that text, how would it feel if it was just gossip?

Nalani:

Feeling any better? I hope so. You were on fire out there. Honestly, they need to get rid of him. Even Paul said he’s working for the other team. And nah, not just saying that to make you feel better. You were amazing. Period.

Me:

Not gonna argue that. Kind of getting that sense, too. I’m good. It was brutal. Felt like I was skating through mud out there, but we’ll turn it around.

Nalani:

I could see it in your face onscreen. You looked pissed. But I knew you’d keep pushing through. That’s what you do.

Me:

72 games left in the season. It’s all good. I’m focused on the good. On you and me. On six games from now. This game is my job; you, Nalani, are my everything. Tell me how your day’s been? How are your girls? Has anyone else blown into Noelle’s shop that she’s hired without references or a background check?

Nalani:

Ha! Not today. But …

Nalani:

I told the girls tonight that we needed to plan a spring reception in Hawaii and that it was not optional. They asked if it would be at my family’s resort, so I gave some diluted details.

Me:

Gonna be honest, though … that’s a lot, and I’m sorry I’m not there with you.

Nalani:

I’m honestly shook that it didn’t set me in my feels. It was freeing.

Me:

So glad to hear it.

Nalani:

Message me after you’re checked in to your room and showered.

Me:

You should get some sleep. You have work tomorrow.

Nalani:

You do remember I can work from home all but the one day a week I meet with Bill to go over the contracts, right?

Me:

You do know you told me you prefer to work at the office and having lunch with Claire, right?

Nalani:

MESSAGE ME AFTER YOUR SHOWER!

Me:

WILL DO.

Nalani:

And take your time in the shower … maybe it’ll give you time to think about what I’m not wearing in bed right now …

Me:

Fucking love you.

Nalani:

Love you more.

Me:

Impossible.

This afternoon, as we were in the lobby, waiting to board the bus, Costello walked in with Drew and her legal husband, Cody Warren. Cody is a Lincoln alumni and is now the star quarterback of the New York Knights. With him came two teammates of his, Hudson Hart—also Lincoln alumni—and Beau Boone. Those of us who aren’t from Lincoln was damn near star-struck by seeing the top quarterback, wide receiver, and tight end walking in.

“What’s up, Rivera?” Hudson Hart, who was his roommate before me, gives him a bro hug.

Rivera gives it back. “You here for the game?”

“We’re playing tomorrow, so a few of us flew down early with Warren,” he says then reaches his hand out. “When are you gonna make the switch back to football, man?”

I shake his hand and joke, “I’d be bored playing one game a week.”

“Fuck you, man.” He chuckles then adds, “We’re trying to get Costello to delay the flight to wherever the fuck you’re all heading tomorrow to come watch us.”

“It’s not Costello you have to convince.” Dash reaches out his hand, and they shake. “It’s Coach D. Work the Dylan angle; she can convince her sister, if anyone can.”

He lifts his chin toward Dean. “Gonna head back over there.” He chuckles. “Pay attention to what’s going on; you don’t wanna miss this.”

Dean is talking to Johnson away from the crowd, and when Johnson’s face twists in anger and all pro-ballers step to Dean’s back, I know damn well what’s going on.

Deacon steps beside me and Dash. “Guess the rumors are true.”

“Fuck yes.” Dash bounces up and down on his toes. “Ba-bye, fucking loser.”

A voice clears from the left of us, and we glance over to see Coach D and Hank.

“Moretti, can I see you for a minute?”

My eyes meet Hank’s, and I give him a wink. He shakes his head as he tries to suppress a grin.

I mouth, “ It’s about damn time .”

When they’re out of earshot, Dash asks, “What line are they gonna put him on?”

“Ours, of course.”

An hour later, I’m proven right, and we learn that they didn’t just bench Johnson; they issued him a waiver and sent his ass down. Since he has a two-way contract, his salary went from millions to under two hundred thousand a year. Some of the guys speculate that Costello did it in front of the team to put us all on notice. If they knew him as many of us do, they’d know it was to show us he has our backs. Fucking epic move.

Philly is hands-down the toughest game we’ve played so far this season. They went real fucking hard on Deacon, but he played arguably his best set since I’ve been on the team, and when we switched lines, Hank did the same, each only letting one in. The goal is not the issue this game; it’s that we’re playing against a team that holds the same record as we do, and we’re both starving to be the only.

As I skate to the bench after that last shift, sweat dripping down my face, the roaring crowd blurs into a sea of orange and black. The adrenaline is still pumping, every breath coming in hard and fast as I focus on catching that calm I need.

That’s when I hear it—a cheer that somehow cuts through the noise. It’s almost drowned out by the arena’s roar, but it’s familiar. It’s a sound I’d know anywhere because it’s always louder than the rest for me.

My heart skips, and I glance toward the boards, where the fans are pressed up against the glass. I scan faces automatically, but there’s no way she’s here. She would have told me she was coming. We’d texted just before we hit the ice. She’d gone on and on, apologizing, hating that she missed an away game close enough she could drive. But right there, above the visiting team’s tunnel, I see her.

My breath hitches like I just took a puck to the chest. She’s standing there in one of my jerseys, 29 splayed across her body. It’s all gathered in a knot on the side. She’s not alone, either. Her girls are with her, all decked out in our Bears’ colors.

She turns, and our eyes lock. That conversation from a couple weeks ago plays in my head …

“You didn’t even see me there.” She laughed.

“There was never a time you were in Wailea that I didn’t know you were near.”

“You need to give me a minute.” She held up her fingers, just like she’s doing now, like she’s taking a picture. “You will never stop turning my head, making me want to crawl inside of you and soak up all that warmth, that heat, that ? —”

“ I fucking love you ,” I mouth.

“ I love you ,” she mouths back, smiling, then she points to the ice, makes … bear claws with her hands, and growls?

I laugh because she’s the perfect kind of crazy when I need it the most.

She shakes her head and points to the ice. Then she does it again.

I nod once and dive over the boards, sitting on the bench.

“Coach D says, if we win, we’re going to the Knights game tomorrow,” Dash yells over the roar of the crowd as Stone rails the puck to Giulietti.

“If you lose,” Coach D yells, “you’re under lock and key so we can un-fuck your heads. I’ll call Icehouse and pay them to bar you so there’s no post-game bunny-bashing, And”—she forces a laugh—“and I’m going to send a group message to all the WAGS and tell them if they put out, there will be no complimentary tick—” She throws her hands in the air as Giulietti rails it into the net. “Fuck yes!”

“Think he heard her?” Hank chuckles.

Dash laughs. “Not possible.”

I look over my shoulder, and Nalani places her hand on the glass. Even though she’s way up there, I place mine on it, too. “I guarantee he did.”

Then she does something else. She places her hand on her belly and touches the glass at the same time.

I must look like an idiot, mouth gaping, when she smiles and points to the ice. “ Go !”

“Let’s go, Koa!”

Coach is barking orders, the buzzer is blaring for the next line change, and I need to get my head back in the game. But as I skate out, I can’t help but glance up at her one more time. She’s cheering so loud her voice will probably be gone tomorrow, and her girls are right there with her, hyping her up. She sees it, too, because she points again and makes a W with her hand, telling me, “ Win .”

I put my head down, refocus, and take off for the puck drop. This one’s for her and … our child. Ours. I will skate harder, hit faster, score for them, and win … for all of us.

And win, we do, but when I look for her … she’s gone.

As soon as I’m in the locker room, I search through my shit for my phone, knowing there’s a message, and there is.

Nalani:

Call me after your shower.

I toss off as much equipment as I can then push through the crowd celebrating the W to find a place quiet enough to call her.

“Ku’uipo,” comes out in a voice far more emotional than I expected.

“Hold on, okay? Just a second.” I hear muffled background noise, but due to the noise here, I’m not sure what it is or where she is.

“Koa,” she says breathlessly. “I’m sorry, didn’t even realize I was touching … it.” She whispers, telling me she’s with her girls. “I mean, I might not, but maybe? I?—”

“Shh, quiet your mind.”

“I don’t want to disappoint?—”

“You will never disappoint me, ku’uipo. You just surprised me by showing up at the toughest game we’ve had so far. I’m fucking elated you are here. Tell me where I can find you.”

“I’m going to the hotel. Drew invited us to a football game tomorrow and … yeah, I’m going there.”

“What hotel?” I ask, trying to remain as calm as I can because she needs that from me right now. I need that for her just as much.

“The team hotel?” she says, and then I hear someone answer, yes . “The team hotel.”

I laugh. “So, are you telling me that Coach D is for sure taking us off lockdown and we’re going to the game?”

“Shit, yes, I guess I am. Was I not supposed to?”

I laugh. “I kind of knew. But don’t worry; it’ll be our secret.”

“I miss you,” she says with a smile in her voice.

“When you get to the hotel, I’ll have a room booked.”

“The girls?—”

“You’re not sharing a room with the girls tonight, and I’m not staying with Dash.”

“Got it.”

“Good.”

“You know what else I got?” she says teasingly.

“What?” I ask.

“A test,” she whispers.