Page 107 of Three Pucking Wedding Dates

The arena begins to settle as the post-game interviews start, and I can’t tear my eyes away from the screen. Reid steps in front of the cameras, his face flushed with victory, sweat still beading on his brow. He looks even more confident than usual, if that’s possible.

“Reid Archer, congratulations on an incredible game-winning goal,” the interviewer says, her voice steady despite the excitement. “What was going through your mind during those final moments?”

Reid grins and runs a hand through his tousled hair. “You know, it all happened so fast,” he begins, pausing for a moment before continuing. “But there was one thing that kept me going, one driving force behind every move I made on the ice tonight.”

I lean forward in my seat, curiosity piqued. What could have motivated him so strongly?

“Her name is Oakley Price,” Reid announces boldly, and my heart skips a beat. “She’s my best friend, my rock, and the most amazing woman I’ve ever known. Her support means the world to me, and everything I did out there tonight was for her.”

“Wow, that’s quite the declaration!” the interviewer exclaims, clearly taken aback by Reid’s passionate words. “Oakley certainly seems like an important person in your life.”

“You have no idea,” Reid replies, his green eyes filled with sincerity. “She’s been through so much lately, and she’s handled it all with such grace and strength. I wanted to show her that her love and friendship could inspire great things—not just for me but for everyone around her.”

My breath catches in my throat, and my cheeks burn with a mix of surprise and awe. My eyes brim with tears again, this time born of gratitude and affection. As the camera zooms in on Reid’s determined expression, I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder to call him my friend.

“Did he just…?” I whisper, almost too stunned to form words.

“Looks like it,” comes a voice from behind me. I turn to see one of the other spectators in the suite, her eyes wide with excitement. “That was pretty incredible, huh?”

Incredible doesn’t even begin to describe it. A whirlwind of emotions sweeps through me—joy, fear, and exhilaration all swirling together in a dizzying rush. I feel as if I’m standing on the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to take flight or hold back out of self-preservation.

“Oakley!” someone shouts, snapping me out of my reverie. “Did you hear what he said?”

“Y-yeah,” I stammer, still struggling to process Reid’s declaration. “I can’t believe it.”

“Neither can we!” another person chimes in, grinning broadly. “You must be over the moon!”

“Definitely,” I reply, my voice barely audible above the pounding of my heart.

The arena erupts into cheers and applause, echoing like a thunderous wave through the vast space. Everywhere I look, people are clapping, hugging, and high-fiving each other, their faces alight with admiration and awe. The energy is contagious, and I can’t help but join in, clapping my hands and cheering until my throat is raw.

“Reid! Reid! Reid!” the crowd chants, their voices united in support of the man who has captured our hearts—both on and off the ice.

“Seems like everyone is as excited as you are,” the first spectator says, nudging me playfully. “Looks like you two have quite the fan club.”

“Guess so,” I admit with a nervous laugh.

59

REID

“Oakley, scoot over.”

I slide into the car with a grin still plastered on my face from the adrenaline rush of my game-winning shot. My fingers tingle with the memory of the puck hitting the net as the buzzer sounded.

“Can you believe this guy?” I ask, looking around at Charlie, Theo, and Gray, who are smirking at me in amusement.

“Reid, you crazy bastard,” Oakley says, her green eyes sparkling with disbelief and joy. “You just had to go and confess your love in front of everyone, didn’t you?”

I can’t help but chuckle at her reaction. In a move that’s quintessentially Oakley, she playfully punches me on the shoulder, shaking her head with a mix of exasperation and delight.

“Someone had to make a grand gesture, right?” I reply, my voice teasing. “Besides, it’s not like we haven’t all seen it coming.”

“Speak for yourself,” she retorts, rolling her eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Oakley,” I say, my tone serious despite the smile that remains plastered on my face, “I meant every word. I really do love you.”

Her green eyes widen slightly, searching mine for any hint of deceit. But there’s only truth there, and she must sense it because her gaze softens. She bites her lip, processing the weight of my admission, and I wait for her response, my heart pounding against my chest.

---