Wasted Time (The Steel City #1)

64. Penny

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

penny

“I’ll get it!” I scream, barrelling through the kitchen and past Declan to get to the front door of his condo. Well, our condo. Kind of. I came back months ago and never really left. It’s been good, jumping right into this. No part of me wants to run. None of it feels fast.

My socked feet slam against the hardwood floor. Declan watches me sprint past the island, a glass of water held to his mouth, brow cocked like I’m insane. He hadn’t even moved to answer it, but I’m still racing to beat him to the door.

There’s a couple of faces out there that I have been dying to see.

I swing the door open and scream.

Avery screams, too, throwing her arms around me with that serial killer grip that I have missed more than anything. I smell coffee, and for once, it’s the least exciting thing in the doorway. I just care about holding her and being able to see those eye crinkles in real life again—the way they’re supposed to be seen .

“I missed you,” she breathes into my ear, genuine relief in her voice.

“I missed you, too,” I admit, feeling that wave of emotion that comes after not seeing Ave for a long while. I pull back, pressing a kiss to her head, before kissing twice more and reluctantly letting her go.

There’s a long list of people in this doorway that I must hug, as much as I’d like to stay wrapped up in Avery’s short little arms for the next hour. That’s what happens when your boyfriend makes it to a final. Instead of going home to visit, your friends come to see you.

All at once.

The whole crew.

I have been counting down the days until this moment.

I hug them one by one, like little ducklings in a line. Wyatt is last, a warm crooked smile reaching those dark eyes.

I beam up at him, my chest flooding with light at the sight of him, here and whole. I breathe a bit easier seeing him in the flesh. It’s been torture being so far from him. I reach up to place my hands on his cheeks, ignoring that burn of emotion behind my eyes.

If there is one reason that I feel guilty about rarely going home, it’s because I left him . It is because I am not there to make sure that he’s okay each and every day, to gauge all of that in person. It is because I’m not available to love him when he needs me to.

“Hey, Wy.” I smile.

He rolls his eyes.

“Don’t get sappy,” he warns, pulling me to his chest.

Always the best hugs.

“How are you?” I ask, refusing to let him go. I snuggle in closer, burying my face in his jade-green sweatshirt.

“I’ll be better when you let me walk through that door to see the happily ever after you finally let me have.”

I shoot him a look, gently swatting his chest. I’ll pretend to be offended, but we both know that I’m not. He was right all along, really. How can I be angry with him? He led me here. He guided me home.

When I got back to Canada, I told the whole crew that Declan and I were officially together, even though they had all pretty much pieced that together by then. Avery and Seth were thrilled, but Wyatt? Wyatt cried . He was so damn happy that his best friends were happy. He cuddled up with me on the couch and said that he was going to miss me but told me point-blank that I needed to get my ass to Pittsburgh.

He was giving me permission that he didn’t think I needed but knew that I’d want. I couldn’t leave without knowing he’d be okay. I am his emergency contact. I should be there for him if an emergency arises.

But he told me to go. In fact, he begged me to. So, I did.

“How far away is the hotel?” I ask, ushering him through the doorway.

Until the game is over, they’ll be staying at a hotel to give Declan the space he needs to keep his head in the game. If it goes to game seven, we’re going to have to figure out our next moves. The second the final is over, though; they’re hauling their stuff here for a few days. Win or lose.

They have tickets for the next two games, but it could be a win on Monday.

My god, he could win on Monday.

“Five minutes or so.”

It is going to be a win. I feel sick thinking of the other option. Declan will put on a brave face if he loses, but it will kill him. He’s going to hold that cup over his head one day. Multiple times, probably. I’d just love it if the first time was Monday.

When Wyatt and I step inside the penthouse, EJ is vibrating with excitement and holding Declan hostage in his arms. Declan’s eyes meet mine over his shoulder, softening when they find me. His gaze slides up to the man beside me, and that look twinges with a bit of unspoken pain.

My chest aches at that look.

Dec hasn’t seen Wyatt in person for months.

Declan untangles himself from EJ, and I unwind my arms from Wyatt just in time for Declan to smack into him. Wyatt stumbles back a bit, letting out an airy laugh, but when I hear soft, muted words seeping from their embrace—the energy changes.

Wyatt’s eyes slide shut. He wraps his arms around Declan’s back, gripping the fabric of his crewneck sweatshirt.

I don’t know if we’ll ever be healed from what happened that night, but we can try. We try every day.

Deciding to give them a moment on their own, I join the rest of the crew in the living room.

Tiffany and Lauren are looking around, never having been here before. Pride radiates from Lauren, talking about how excited she is to brag to her brothers about all of this.

Tiffany looks bewildered, but her lips pull back into a stunned smile.

Avery and Seth are already sprawled on the couch like they live here.

“Dec’s schedule is pretty hectic the next few days, but we can go out and have some fun while he’s working.”

I’m slowly getting to know Pittsburgh, and me and this city are starting to love each other. I mean, how could we not? We share the same heart.

It’s six-foot-two, has charming eyes and gorgeous, irresistible dimples.

EJ lifts his thumb into the air, flopping down onto the loveseat.

“I cannot believe he’s in a final,” Seth huffs, shaking his head.

I smile, leaning against the wall and crossing my arms in front of myself.

“I have annoyed my students all week by talking about my friend, Declan Lowes,” Lauren says. She snorts. “They get so mad when I call him that. They all demand that I call him Lowesy.”

“Where are his parents staying?” EJ asks.

They flew in a couple of days ago. Like all the people in this room, pride drips from them every single time they talk about Declan. His mom can barely talk to either of us without getting emotional. It’s tangible, but it’s stressful. I couldn’t imagine the pressure.

Declan pretends it’s fine, but it’s eating at him. It’s heavy on his shoulders. He’s been quiet. Focused. It’s how he operates, tightening up his mental strength while working on his physical game. For his most important stretch of games of his career thus far? That focus is intense.

He’s been in the league for a bit now, and he has yet to win the cup. That alone is crazy, all things considered, because he’s Declan Lowes.

He and I have barely even talked over the last week or so, but I get it. I understand him. He needs to self-meditate to prepare, to alleviate the pressure he feels. He needs a lot of solitude to be in the right mindset to perform at his best. He’s so strict on it that he’s even been sleeping in the guest room.

It kills me, but the payoff will be worth it.

“They’re closer to the arena. ”

They wanted to be close to the rink rather than the condo. They know Declan’s pregame behaviour and what he needs better than anyone. They’ve been dealing with it since he was a kid.

“They’ll be at dinner tonight.” Declan’s voice emerges from right behind my ear. He leans downward, wrapping his arms around my middle, and rests his chin on my shoulder.

I slide my hands over his, turning my head to look at him. He smiles so sweetly that it sends my heart right to my throat.

I love this man. Have I mentioned that?

“Hi,” he mumbles with a smile, eyes darting to my lips. Dimples in full effect.

“Hi,” I answer, pursing my lips in a request. He presses his mouth to mine, giving me a gentle squeeze.

“Fuck, this should be weird, shouldn’t it? It’s like watching my sister kiss my brother.”

Our gazes snap to EJ, who is looking at us with both warmth and mild disgust.

“It’s cute,” Avery corrects, with an edge to her tone. “Our friends are in love.”

“With each other,” EJ clarifies, gesturing to us like anyone would be confused about who he’s talking about. “Weird.”

“Shut up, Eej.” Wyatt sighs, coming from the kitchen to stand next to us.

“D,” Seth says. Declan, who is still wrapped around me, glances his way. He nods for him to come to the couch. “Come here for a second.”

Declan presses a kiss to my hair and untangles himself from me.

It’s a sight that warms the coldest parts of me. The love of my life, walking through our home toward all our closest friends, spread out on his enormous sofa like they belong here.

It feels more like home than it ever has.

Declan drops down onto the ottoman, resting his elbows on his knees. He holds out his hands between his legs as if to say, ‘ What do you want?’

I smile at the faux impatience.

“Ten bucks he cries,” Wyatt mumbles beside me, bumping me with his hip.

“That’s a losing bet,” I say out of the corner of my mouth. “No deal.”

Seth grins at his best friend, reaching down to rummage in the bag by his feet. He digs inside and pulls out a perfectly wrapped present. Gold wrapping, black bow, the number 33 written across the paper in perfect, block lettering.

I know Avery’s talent by heart. That’s an Avery-wrapped gift, all done by hand.

Declan’s eyes drop to it, brow furrowing.

“We’re so fucking proud of you, buddy. You made it to a final . You might win a cup. This is everything we have all dreamed of at one point and you are living it. Do you know how incredible that is?” Seth asks.

I rest my head against the wall, watching his reaction. My heart clenches at the raw emotion that washes over that perfect face.

He stares at the present, nodding slowly, but making no move to unwrap it.

“Do you know how incredible you are?” Avery adds in a tone so soft, it’s almost a whisper.

Declan swallows, trying to wrestle away the emotion that hits him. He lets out a long breath, eyes locked on the ground.

“Meh,” Wyatt says, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “He’s alright.”

Dec chuckles, rolling his eyes.

“We can’t wait to celebrate with you, regardless of the outcome. Mark my words, none of us doubt you for a second, but this is a win no matter what. We want you to know that, and that we’ve been behind you every step of the way since day one. All of us. This fucked up little family we’ve built will be screaming at the top of our lungs, brother,” Seth says.

EJ barks a laugh. “A fucked up little family that apparently can’t stop fucking one another. What’s that saying? The family that fucks each other stays with each other until the bitter end?”

Avery and I shoot him a look.

He grins but lifts his hands in the air in surrender.

Seth slowly reaches over and passes Declan the gift, ignoring EJ’s antics.

Declan clears his throat. He shakes his head like he doesn’t know how to accept words that are so kind, never mind a present that’s attached to them. Their kind of love is usually banter, not words of affirmation.

But this is different. This is another moment where everything might change.

“I don’t need a gift,” he finally says.

“No.” Seth nods. “But you deserve one. It’s nothing special, and it’ll never repay your generosity, but we wanted to do something for you. Just open it.”

I know what this is, though I’ve had to keep it a secret.

I know how much Declan paid for the tickets to have his friends and family here, and oh my god, but he didn’t even bat an eye. It was never a question. If he was making it, they’d all be here to see it. We’d all be here. Never mind the fact that he’s fully prepared to get everyone tickets to game seven across the country if it goes there. He’s even going to pay for their flights.

The thought that went into this gift has just as much worth as those tickets.

It will be priceless to him.

Declan sighs, his discomfort evident. He slowly unwraps the bow and pulls the lid off the box. I can’t see what’s inside, so I study his face instead. His eyes soften, his fingers stilling.

“Guys,” he whispers.

Avery smiles, curling up into Seth’s side. She winds her arms around his and snuggles in close, resting her cheek on his bicep.

Declan pulls out a bottle of champagne first, huffing a laugh. After a second, he turns it around so that I can see it. The label around the bottle is filled with various photographs of Declan’s hockey career. From childhood to the big leagues. From needing a walker on the ice to becoming faster than lightning.

I smile, but I know it’s the other piece that is laying in that box that has him nervous. He reaches in, pulling out the thick book that Avery and I have been working meticulously on. The front page is blank, except for his team’s logo, Declan’s name, and his jersey number.

He opens the first page, and the first letters that he sees are the ones from his parents. He immediately slams the book shut and shakes his head. He lets out a pained laugh, tilting his head back to force away the tears. It’s a lost cause. His eyes are flooded with them.

My throat tightens, but the smile on my face is real.

Seth reaches forward to pat his knee. “There are letters from everyone you’ve ever impacted in there. Your parents, your coaches, your fans. Us. You don’t have to read them now, but they’re in there when you want to.”

“Fuck you guys.” Declan shakes his head again, laughing as he clears his throat. “I was doing well, too. I haven’t cried once.”

I have. More than once.

“We’re proud of you,” Lauren says.

“Enough.” Declan blinks, lowering his head. He runs a hand over his face, adjusting his ball cap. “Thank you, guys. I really can’t do this now. But… thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Seth says with a small smile.

Declan’s eyes dart to mine, still desperately attempting to blink away his emotion.He smiles when he finds me already watching with tears of my own.

“You write me something, Lucky?”

I shrug a shoulder, smothering an innocent smile.

His lips slowly pull upward. Dimples appear just like I spend every waking moment wishing they will.

“See?” EJ says, throwing up a hand. “Weird.”