Isn't It Bromantic (Bromance Book Club #4) - Lyssa Kay Adams Page 0,96

Elena.”

Rudolph shook her hand. “Finally, I meet the mysterious Elena.” He backed up and waved for them to come in. “Please, come in. Get settled. If you need anything at all, let one of the waiters know.”

Elena’s eyes widened as they walked into the luxurious suite. A full bar was along the right wall, where a bartender filled drinks for the dozen or so guests who were already there. A mouthwatering buffet was set up along the opposite wall, but Vlad had eaten before they left the house because he could never guarantee at events like this that even food labeled gluten-free hadn’t been cross-contaminated.

Vlad bent toward Elena’s ear. “You want something to drink?”

“I can get it,” she said. “You should sit.”

“I sit all day.”

She lifted an eyebrow at him, and that fiery little expression got him hot and bothered again. God, this was going to be a long night.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Just water. Thanks.” He dropped a kiss on her lips, drawing a surprised look from more than one person in the room. He understood now why she worried about people asking questions. This was the first time most people had ever seen her, and they were not shy about hiding their curiosity.

Vlad crutched slowly toward the set of VIP seats just beyond the glass wall overlooking the ice. He balanced his crutches along the railing. Below, his team skated and warmed up without him. Loud music pulsated from the speakers, and the jumbotron that hung from the ceiling played videos and commercials to distract fans before the game. He’d dreamed his entire life of being here. The Stanley Cup. Thousands of fans screaming and cheering. And he wasn’t down there.

“Hey.” Elena jolted him out of his brief pity party. She carried a glass of wine for herself and a bottle of water for him. He twisted off the top and downed half the bottle in a long gulp.

“People are looking at you,” she said.

He followed her gaze to the stands below, and yes, several fans were turned around in their seats with excited grins. Vlad lifted his hand in a polite wave, and the fans acted as if they’d just been blessed by the ghost of Gordie Howe.

“You should sign autographs for the kids,” Elena said.

“I didn’t bring a Sharpie.”

“I’m on it,” Elena said. She set her wine in the cup holder of one of the seats before jogging back up the steps. A moment later, she returned with a marker and a member of the team’s PR staff. She started giving orders, and the staffer had no choice but to obey. “Let’s invite some of the families with young children to come up here to meet Vlad.” She pointed at one family with four children who’d been staring since the minute Vlad appeared. “Just one family at a time.”

The staffer nodded and opened the gate that separated the VIP seating from the rest of the stands. They watched as the young man quietly tapped the father on the shoulder, spoke and pointed behind them, and then as the family all gasped at the same time.

A moment later, they all jogged up the stairs to the railing. “Oh my gosh, this is so exciting,” said the woman whom he assumed was the mother.

“Would your kids like an autograph?” Elena asked.

After signing his name to two souvenir pucks, a T-shirt, and a game program, he offered to take a picture with the family. Elena stepped away to get out of the photo, but Vlad tugged her back in.

And that’s how it went for the next twenty minutes. The PR guy brought up families with children for signatures and selfies, and it was exactly the distraction Vlad needed from the fact that he wasn’t down on the ice with his team. Somehow, Elena had known what he needed. Just like she’d known his favorite meals would heal his soul and that he had needed a hug when the guys suggested a party to watch the game.

Elena looped her arm through his and leaned into him. “You okay?”

“I wouldn’t be without you.”

“There you go again. So romantic.”

“Elena?”

She looked up at him. “Hmm?”

“I need to tell you something.”

Her lips parted. “What is it?”

“I love you.”

She sucked in her bottom lip as her eyes shone with a wet sheen. Around them, the noise of the crowd and the music faded. It was just them, suspended in a collision of past and present.

After a torturously long moment, Elena raised her hand to