Olivier (Chicago Blaze #9) - Brenda Rothert Page 0,56

where Ben is waiting to drive her home, and we say goodnight to her.

Then we take an Uber to Lucky’s, the bar we’re meeting a bunch of Blaze players at. It’s just the two of us for the first half hour, and then players start filtering into the sports bar.

“You’re back,” Victor Lane says, grinning and giving Olivier a backslapping bro hug.

“Boss man!” Anton says, also embracing him. He stands back and looks at him seriously, saying, “No more running towards burning cars or having buildings fall down on you for a while, yeah?”

“That’s the plan,” Olivier says.

We have to push several tables together to seat our whole group. Olivier and I are sitting with Anton and Mia Petrov, Luca and Abby Campbell, Victor and Lindy Lane, Knox and Reese Deveraux, Erik and Allie Zimmerman, Jonah and Rey West, and Kit Carter and his girlfriend, Molly Lynch. Olivier orders shots for the group, and when they come, Anton stands to deliver a toast.

“Welcome back, Olivier,” he says. “We couldn’t ask for a better owner and we’re happy you found your person in Daphne, however dramatic the first meeting was.”

Everyone laughs and I look around at all the faces, each one warm and smiling. The Chicago Blaze organization is very much like a family, one it feels good to be a part of.

“Cheers,” Anton says, and everyone taps their glasses and throws back their shots.

The alcohol burns going down, and I close my eyes and shake my head to clear away the sensation. When I open my eyes again, Olivier is looking at me.

He leans in and says, “I love you, Daph.”

“I love you, too,” I say, kissing him.

“Will you still love me when I’m old and gray?”

I arch my brows. “You mean next year?”

“You’re quite funny, Miss Barrington.”

“I’ll still love you then,” I promise. “Maybe even more, because you’ll make quite the silver fox.”

Groans sound around the table and I look up to see the waitress delivering not just one more round of shots, but two.

“We lost tonight,” Anton reminds the group. “We’re celebrating and drowning our sorrows.”

Shots are passed out again, and this time it’s Olivier who raises his glass first.

“To a team I couldn’t be prouder of,” he says, looking around at his players. “Win or lose.”

We all drink to that.

Epilogue

Olivier

8 months later

Daphne’s freshly showered when she walks into the living room dressed in shorts and a well-worn T-shirt that says “Fuck Gender Roles.” She sits down beside me on the couch and grabs a slice of pepperoni pizza from the box on the coffee table.

“Did I miss the puck drop?” she asks, taking a bite.

“Nope, you’re right on time.”

The light scents of her body wash and shampoo have become my favorite smells. They have a tropical, coconut scent that makes me think of our trip to Fiji last summer. We left the world behind for a week and rented a secluded beach house with Giselle. There’s a canvas picture of the three of us from that trip hanging in the living room, and a smaller one on my desk at work that Daphne put in a frame.

Daphne and Giselle get along better than I could have dreamed they would. Giselle volunteers at Annie’s Kitchen with Daphne and Daphne never misses her band performances.

“So this is…” Daphne furrows her brow as she looks at the TV screen. “Don’t tell me, I know this…it’s Dallas and…Tampa Bay?”

“Yes.”

She smiles, looking pleased. During the offseason, we watched a few classic hockey games and I explained the game to her. Though she’s still learning, she’s got a basic understanding of the rules and positions now.

“This game should be pretty intense,” I tell her.

“Why?”

“Well, gossip travels fast in hockey, and there’s a guy on the Dallas team who has it out for a guy on Tampa Bay’s team because of something that happened off the ice, and this is the first time these two teams have played since it happened.”

Daphne grabs another slice of pizza and sits back, tucking her feet beneath her legs. “So what happened?”

I help myself to another slice of pizza as I explain.

“So Maverick Hagen is a forward for Dallas. He was engaged to a woman, and she cheated on him with Hunter Paul, a forward for Tampa Bay. Maverick and Hunter were good friends, and Maverick came home from a road trip and found Hunter screwing his fiancée on their kitchen island.”

“Oh God, how awful.”

She shakes her head, probably remembering how it felt to find Aiden cheating on