Page 111 of Knotted Laces

I’m crying now but can’t seem to stop.

Not when I’ve never felt more loved, more seen.

Moreme.

“And so,” he says, holding up the ring he extracted. “With all of that being said, my beautiful cupcake, the woman who owns my heart and soul, will you marry me?”

I move to him, tears dripping down my cheeks, love for this man filling me to bursting, and know that I’m the luckiest woman on the planet as I say,

“Only if you throw in the Sex Cave.”

Because I’m me.

But he gets that.

So, his mouth curves.

And his arms band around me.

And he leans close to whisper in my ear,

“Done.”

And it turns out that nobody cares all that much if you show up late to opening night…

Especially when you show off the big ass diamond on your ring finger.

And your brand new hot hockey hunk of a fiancé.

Hudson

I’m fucked I realize as I stare up at the tiny spitfire of a woman.

Who’s lecturing me.

In a lilting voice that I can’t help but get lost in the melody of.

“…and I really need you to take some time to focus on this new system,” she saying, gesturing at an iPad. “I know it’s new and it’s tough to make these changes, but this will make it much easier for us to mobilize your speed and strength.”

She pauses.

And I realize that I’m staring.

That I’m so caught up in the beauty of her, I haven’t processed she’s expecting an answer.

“Got it,” I manage to rasp out.

She nods then rounds the desk and moves to the door of her office, pulling it open so I can see the hallway beyond.

Heroffice.

The new head coach of the Eagles, Diana Connors.

The first female head coach in the league.

And the object of my fantasies since she first showed up at training camp.

“I’ll see you out on the ice,” she says in that quiet, sure,melodicvoice.

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