Page 33 of Broken Promises

Do I want to claim Willa publicly? Hell yes I do. But I want to do it when she’s really mine.

“Go away, Diego. I’m not talking about this until I’m ready.”

Diego curses under his breath but leaves like I asked.

“Is Bethany going to be a problem?” Ben asks me once the door shuts behind Diego.

“She might try, but I’m married. The owners of the Bruisers are aware of that. So even if her dad tries to complain to them, they know I’m not with her.”

“Let me know when you want that photoshoot. I have a feeling you’re going to need it,” Ben says, getting up and gathering his equipment.

“Can you get a shot of her watching me play tonight?” I ask as I follow him out.

“Where is she sitting?”

“The wrong side again, probably. Maggie is in some season ticket exchange group. So the seats she gets for the two of them are in the home team section.” Neither of the girls liked the tickets Gideon and I could get for them. They weren’t close enough.

“I’ll try, but that’s the side of the ice I’ll be on too. It’ll likely be the back of her head.”

“She’ll be the one in the middle of a bunch of New York fans wearing my jersey.”

Ben laughs. “Hard to miss.”

“See you on the bus,” I call to him. He waves as he heads for the ice to scope out his angles, and I go in the opposite direction to the locker room.

I’ll see her tonight and then in three days, I’ll ask her to be mine.

New York is out for blood. They’re playing like we’re on game seven of the Stanley Cup finals. Not a regular season game in November. A normal season goes well into April. June if you make it all the way. There’s no reason for them to be playing like this so early in the season.

Willa has been screaming at the refs and players both. Even Maggie, who usually watches happily, is angrily shaking her fists. The crowd seems split. We’re on their home ice so the cheers for them should be louder, but even their fans seem confused.

“There’s a target on your back,” Bouchard says to me. We’re in the locker room between the second and third period while they flood the ice.

“I don’t know what the fuck for.”

“Maybe they saw the San Diego game and knew because your wife is here, you’re going to play better,” Gideon says. His blond hair is sticking up in all directions from the sweat and his helmet. He looks almost wild.

“That’s crazy. Like actually crazy. I wasn’t even the one who scored the winning goal for that game. They should be after you,” I point out.

They are after me, for whatever reason. I’ve been thrown into the boards more times tonight than my entire high school career combined. And that was a lot because I liked to instigate back then.

I groan when I lean over to retie my skates. My whole body hurts. My knees want to give up. Part of me wants to let them win so the beating can be over.

“We just need to hold them off. We’re up one nothing. Normally that kind of lead wouldn’t be good enough, but I don’t want you boys hurt and that’s what will happen,” Coach says. He turns to me. “Monroe, I think you need to be pulled.”

I flinch, even though I know it’s not because of how I’m playing. No one wants to hear they’re being benched.

“I want to stay dressed and on the bench in case I need to go back in.”

Coach looks at my knees where a trainer has taped bags of ice to each one. “We have a real chance of taking the cup this year, Declan. But not if you’re out on injury for half the season.”

I sigh and drop my head into my hands. “Yes. Coach,” I mumble between my fingers. It’s not worth fighting him on tonight.

“Text Willa and have her come back and sit with you,” Gideon says once Coach is out of earshot. “You’ll get to spend more time with her,” he says, and winks.

I wish my team good luck as they file out of the locker room. I hit the showers quickly and then text Willa.

I’m benched. Come back to the locker room?

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