The Romance Line (Love and Hockey Book 2)

Everly

My pulse is thundering. My blood is rushing fast. And I feel on top of the world even though I don’t have an answer to my work fate.

But that’s okay. I have other answers. Ones that will carry me through. I have friends I love, a man who’s my soulmate, and a life well worth living.

On the ice, the Sea Dogs are warming up as I walk through the tunnel, heading straight for the players’ bench. Some players are stretching on the ice. Others are taking easy shots on the net.

When I reach the bench, I shout at the goalie. “Hey, handsome! Get over here and kiss me!”

Max flies over, ripping off his helmet and meeting me right by the boards. He drops his gloves, holds my face, and kisses me in front of the early crowd, just like he wanted to do.

It’s a soft, slow kiss that melts me. It’s a kiss that says I love you, I need you, I care so much about you . It’s a kiss that says I’m going home with you every night .

When he lets go, his teammates are whistling. Wesley shouts, “Get a room.”

Asher barks out, “Finally! It’s about damn time.”

Miles catcalls with, “Will you stop being a dickhead now?”

I laugh, and Max hauls me in for a hug. “So what happened? How did it go?”

I shrug, but I’m strangely happy. Because I didn’t back down. Because I stood my ground. Because I took care of myself. “I told them everything about how I’m good at my job, told them to watch the piece, then walked out.”

“You walked out?”

“Yes, they can come and get me if they want to keep me. If not, I’ll get another job. And until then, I have a pole studio to keep me busy.”

He smiles and kisses me one more time. “You do,” he says, but then breaks our embrace and nods. “But I think there’s someone here for you.”

I let go and turn around. Zaire’s heading from the tunnel to the players’ bench too. When she reaches me, she says, “You got the promotion.” She points from Max to me. “And you two better keep this up. I want to know you meant every word of what you said.” Then to me, she adds, “And we’ll take care of your suggestion—about that rule.”

“Great,” I say. “Then I accept.”

“I’ll put the paperwork together.” She turns around and walks up through the stands.

I snap my gaze back to Max. “I got it,” I whisper, awed I’ve pulled it off.

“Of course you did. You are badass and beautiful,” he says, then he scoops me up and lifts me over the gate and onto the ice where he dips me and kisses me good and long, making my breath catch and my heart race with happiness.

When he lets go, he looks down at the ice and the lines marking it. “I guess this is the romance line now.”

I like the sound of that.

But I also have work to do and Max has a game to play. I leave and head to the press box. As I near it though, I stop, take a moment, then remove my jacket. I’m wearing a sleeveless blouse. The scars on my upper arm are on display for the world to see.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

Let them.

I walk inside, and say, “Any questions?”

A few days later, two people I adore have new jobs. First is Kyla. I hired her as the full-time manager of Upside Down and the head teacher, giving her a raise too. I don’t have time to run the studio, and besides, it’s been her dream to run one. It’s a gift to make someone’s dreams come true, so I feel pretty lucky to do that for someone who’s done so much for me.

The other person is Jenna, since there was an immediate opening at the Sea Dogs for the manager of promotions. She got the job, so I take her out for a celebratory lunch.

“You are a rock star,” I say after we order.

“Speaking of rock stars…” she begins .

I tilt my head in curiosity. “Yes?”

“My girlfriend is a big Lyra fan, so she dragged me to a concert recently.”

My eye twitches. My jaw tightens. “How was it?”

She holds up a hand. “Enlightening. My friend won VIP tickets and we maybe, possibly saw Lyra leaving the show with one of her backup dancers.”

My jaw drops. “You did?”

She nods impishly. “And I maybe, possibly got some pics. And I maybe, possibly dropped some hints about her extracurricular affairs to a gossip blog.”

“Jenna!”

She bobs a shoulder. “Well, she deserves what’s coming to her.”

Two days later, what comes the rock star’s way is front-page news on the celebrity sites—Lyra Raine is cheating on Fletcher Bane. America’s sweetheart isn’t so sweet after all.

I sigh happily. I can’t think of a better way for the truth to come out than a story that doesn’t once mention Max.