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Sometimes it’s hard to believe she was once that nervous, babbling freshman whose dorm I accidentally wound up in. That the sweet Grace Ivers I fell for is this fearless woman in front of me,
I don’t need to win some stupid bet. I’m already the luckiest man in the bar.
If I’m being honest, these days I view Grace’s dad as a father figure. He’s a decent guy, if you overlook the fact that he prefers football to hockey. But nobody’s perfect. “Tim. My man. I’m not going to let my kinda dad pay money to get an oil change when I can do it for free,” I inform him. “I grew up working in our garage. I can change oil with my eyes closed.”
Grace and I have had numerous conversations about what’ll happen when we get married—when, not if, because come on now.
Tim chuckles. “See, if you played football, the season would be done in February, and you’d be able to make the trip…” “One of these days, sir, I’m going to strap you to a chair and force you to watch hockey games on a loop until you have no choice but to love it.”
The package is about two by two feet, and when Tim gives it to me, I notice it doesn’t have much heft. I narrow my eyes. “What if it’s a bomb?” “Then it will explode and we’ll die, and the atoms of which we are composed will find new uses elsewhere in the universe.” “And Merry Christmas to us all!”
“Fine, then just open it now,” I tell her. “We don’t even know who it’s from, so technically it might not be an official Christmas present. Fifty percent of me thinks it’s a bomb, but don’t worry, gorgeous, your father assured me our atoms will be repurposed after we explode.” Grace sighs. “I don’t understand you sometimes.”
For real. Does he have a death wish or something? I mean, I know Garrett does, because clearly he wants me to murder him next time I see him. I love Garrett Graham like a brother. He’s my closest friend. He’s a teammate. He’s fucking awesome. But to do this to us on Christmas?
Granted, I did abuse my spare key privileges a few months ago to sneak Alexander into Garrett and his girlfriend’s house for Hannah’s birthday. But still.
I imagine Grace all snug and warm beneath our flannel bedsheets. It’s freezing in New England right now, so she’s probably sleeping in her plaid pants and that long-sleeved shirt with the words SQUIRREL POWER! on it. Neither of us knows what it means, because the shirt has a pineapple on it. She won’t be wearing any socks, though. She sleeps barefoot no matter the temperature, and her feet are always like little blocks of ice. When we’re curled up in bed, she presses them against my calf because she’s evil. I rub my tired eyes. Fuck. I miss her. I type, I miss you.
Heartless, Johnny. Heartless.” He falls backward with laughter, leaning on his elbows. “Yeah, sorry. But I’m already planning on marrying someone else.” “Oh really?” “Really.” He smirks. “It’s you, by the way.”
I hit a button on the screen. “Siri, send text to Best Buds Forever chat.” “Best Buds Forever?” Grace howls. “That’s the name of your group chat?” “Yeah, got a problem with that?”
“But what if you slip again? I don’t want to run you over. I like you.”
I’ve kept an emergency kit in every vehicle I’ve ever driven, and this one is no different. I grew up in New England—I know the drill.
Man, that was such a good night. When I mistakenly knocked on that door, I never in a million years thought I’d fall in love with the girl behind it. Or that we’d be sharing an apartment, a bed. Building a life together.
You drive me crazy.” My voice breaks slightly. “You make me feel safe.”
“The offer to eat me after I die still stands,” I tell him. “That’s how much I love you.” He sighs.
“There’s nobody else I’d rather freeze to death with than you.”
“I think they’re here,” he says. I fly into a sitting position. “It’s about time! They’re like eighteen hours late.” “Two,” he corrects, grinning at me. “In blizzard years, that’s eighteen.” “Drama queen.”
“Last night.” I offer a wry grin. “I was just thinking how much fun it was.” “Fun? We almost died.” “We didn’t almost die.” I spot a sign for our bed-and-breakfast up ahead and flick the turn signal. “We had an adventure.”
“What is it?” It’s that same tone she uses when she suspects I’m up to no good. I flash her a faint smile before turning back to the pastor. “So. Just out of curiosity…” My grin widens. “Do you do weddings?”
“Allie. I don’t even know where to start.” “Clearly,” comes Garrett’s dry voice. “By the way, the answer is no. Go ahead and close that box.”
I’m still kneeling in front of Garrett, former college roommate and best friend for life,
“Allie, you’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me,” I begin, keeping my gaze trained on Garrett. “Ain’t that the truth,” Logan remarks. I swivel my head toward him. “No commentary, asshole. You guys are supposed to be offering feedback.”
just sigh. These two idiots, along with our friend Tucker, whose wedding I’m in town for, are closer to me than my own brother. Which says a lot, because my brother, Nick, and I are pretty damn close. But they’re right. Without Allie, I don’t know what my life would look like right now.
Also, if she’s dying, I’m dying right along with her. I can’t live without her.”
What’s wild to me is the fact that G and Logan are teammates again. They played in college together for four years, then went their separate ways for two, only for Logan to wind up playing in Boston—on the same line as Garrett. Talk about serendipity. I think. I always use that word incorrectly.
“As the only one here who’s successfully written poetry for a woman, I think I’m best equipped to evaluate a proposal,” Logan is saying, jarring me from my thoughts. Garrett rolls his eyes. “Okay there, Shakespeare.”
Good point. And not only does Tucker have a kid, but she’s turning three soon. The thought of my little niece Jamie melts my heart. Tuck and I might not be related by blood, but he’s family, and I love his daughter to pieces.
Tucker’s smile is downright lethal. “Do you, Di Laurentis? Because if you upset Sabrina tomorrow by asking Allie to marry you, I will be there. I will always be there. At every corner, ruining every important moment of your life until the day you die. And then, when you’re on your deathbed, I’ll commit suicide right before you go, just to steal your thunder. What do you think, man? How does that future sound?” Garrett gives me a smug look. “Told you so.”
“How did you do this?” he demands as his amazed gaze sweeps over our former teammates from Briar. Considering we played with dozens of guys over the years, it’s astounding we managed to get thirty of them to come to Boston. There’s Jake Bergeron, aka Birdie, our team captain before Garrett. Nate Rhodes, team captain after Garrett. Hunter Davenport, the current captain. There’s Simms, the goalie who won us three Frozen Four championships. Jesse Wilkes, Kelvin, Brodowski, Pierre. Our other goalie Corsen. Traynor, Niko, Danny. Colin Fitzgerald, who’s been dating my sister for the last few years.
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“Holy fuck. This is TD Garden.” “Yup.” Garrett’s answering grin is smug, and not entirely unwarranted. This is an incredible feat. “Look at the lockers,” I urge Tuck. He follows my gaze, eyes widening when he notices the lockers are filled with equipment. Most guys are sharing a locker, but Tucker has his own, and every single one has a custom jersey hanging inside, with our names on the back. That was Summer’s doing. She designed the jerseys and got them done up.
“And now, no more wedding talk,” I say firmly. “Tonight is about the boys hitting the ice again.” “Seriously? We’re going to play?” Tucker’s entire face lights up. “Here?”
Without delay, everyone marches to their lockers and clothes start hitting the floor. It’s chaotic and awesome, and I’m proud of myself for coming up with such a brilliant idea, which has been months in the planning. Garrett and Logan got us the rink, but I personally flew two-thirds of these guys out to Boston and put them up at a hotel.
Now I’m surrounded by old friends, teammates I skated with for four years, and I can’t imagine a better night.
Still, it’s very hard to dislike Sabrina once you get to know her. She’s a ride-or-die type of friend, loyal to the core, and funnier than her aloof exterior suggests.
Our group today is comprised of me, Hannah and Grace; Dean’s sister Summer; Hope and Carin, Sabrina’s best friends from Briar; and Samantha and Kelsey, two friends from Harvard Law.
But it’s Jamie who captures everyone’s attention. The toddler has Tucker’s dark red hair and Sabrina’s big chocolate-brown eyes. She’s the perfect combination of the two of them, and I have no doubt she’ll be just as gorgeous. This morning she’s wearing a purple dress with a tutu skirt, her hair arranged in two pigtails.
“Oh my goodness, is that a tiara?” I say, admiring the sparkling silver crown atop her auburn head. “Ya! Daddy got it for me!” Proudly, Jamie shows the tiara off to the entire group, as we all ooh and aah accordingly.
“I’m not taking the chance she accidentally ingests something else. Not after last year’s coffee debacle. She was so wired, Tuck almost took her to the ER.”
I just nod along. I learned a long time ago that Summer Heyward-Di Laurentis is capable of having entire conversations all by herself.
“Auntie Carin’s cookie fell on the floor and I picked it up and ate it!” Jamie announces proudly, and I almost choke on my laughter. Sabrina sighs. “All right. Let’s get you cleaned up, little one.”
Sabrina’s blushing and Tucker’s beaming, and I deeply envy him in that moment. I squeeze Allie’s hand, and when she squeezes back and slants her head toward me with a smile, my heart clenches tight. How did I get this lucky?
Finally, Coach Jensen clears his throat. “Well,” he says, his shuttered eyes sweeping over the group. “As you know, I don’t have any sons. And after coaching all you boys for so many years, I’ve come to realize I’m glad I don’t.” Mike Hollis hoots loudly. I muffle my laughter against my palm. Coach glares at us. “With that said,” he continues, “out of all the players I’ve coached, John, you’re the one who’s given me the least amount of grief. So thanks for that. Congratulations on everything. The lawyer wife. The cute rug rat. I’m proud of you, kid.”
“You guys got married?” I exclaim as we burst into the bathroom. Fortunately, it’s empty. “No,” Grace says. I narrow my eyes at her. “Yes,” Grace says. “Oh my God. How? When?” Her light-brown eyes focus everywhere else but on me. She pretends to admire the stack of linen towels next to one of the ornate sinks. “When?” I repeat. “Over New Year’s,” she confesses.
“How much did you hear?” Grace sighs. Hannah offers a wry smile. “All of it.” She places her cupped hands beneath the automatic faucet and fills them with water. She proceeds to rinse out her mouth before her eyes find ours in the mirror again. “You okay?” I fret. She slowly shakes her head. “I’m starting to think no.” A knot forms in my stomach. “What’s wrong?” “I might need a…um…pregnancy test.” Silence crashes over us. It lasts about a second before my loud gasp reverberates in the air.
This wedding reception is chock full of HUGE NEWS, and I’m not allowed to tell anyone about it until further notice? Not even Dean? This is my worst nightmare.
Joe Hayes leans on his cane as he watches me enter. His face displays only mild hostility, which is better than usual. Allie’s dad and I didn’t hit it off the moment we met, but I like to think that over the years I’ve grown on him. Although the one time I voiced that thought, Joe had nodded and said, “Like a fungus.” He’s a real delight.
“Dean. Don’t bullshit a bullshitter. You’re a nice kid. But you’re not a drop-off-groceries-for-no-reason kind of guy. Which means you’ve got an ulterior motive.” He eyes the two paper bags I’m holding. “Any corned beef in there?” “’Course.” I’ve been here enough times to know what he likes from the deli down the street. “Come on, I’ll fix us some sandwiches while I reveal my ulterior motive.”
Just like that, his expression becomes more pained than usual. “Aw man, no. Is that it? Today’s the day?” I frown. “What day?” He scrubs one hand over his eyes, the other over his dark beard. “You’re gonna ask for my blessing. Aw hell. Just get it over with and ask, then. You really need to drag out the torture and make both of us uncomfortable? I’d rather be waterboarded. Goddamn it. We both know I’m going to say yes, okay? So do it already.” I gape at him for a second. Then a wave of laughter spills out. “With all due respect, sir? You’re the fucking worst. I had a whole speech prepared.”
