Page 128 of Trade Deadline

Ernie comes running back, this time with a tree branch, and rubs it against my leg. I lean down to stroke the top of his head. “You can’t bring that inside, buddy; leave it out here, and we’ll ask Ethan if you can take it back to his place.”

Ethan Parkes, top man and a brilliant captain, has offered to give me and Alex some uninterrupted alone time and take Ernie home with him tonight.

We walk down the hall to where I’m meeting Ethan, who’s helping me execute my plan, and Ernie makes sure to say hello to every person we pass.

When we reach the door to the locker room, I spot him standing near the start of the tunnel, a trolley full of carpet next to him.

“Hey!” I give Ernie a nod to let him know that he can go see Ethan.

My teammate reaches down and ruffles Ernie’s fur, crooning to him in that high-pitched baby voice I’d never have expected Ethan to be capable of.

“Are you all ready?” He asks.

I knew I wanted to propose to Alex at the rink where I first met him, but I was driving myself crazy over how to make it special. I wanted it to be memorable. Like when you see it in the movies and everyone cries when the story is being retold.

I wanted that.

I wanted people to cry because I’m such a fucking romantic.

But I just didn’t know how, so as always, I went to Ethan for help, because it turns out Mister Grumpy and Broody is actually a big softie.

“I think so.” I rub the back of my neck. “I’m fucking nervous, man.”

Ethan chuckles. “That’s normal. Did you bring the candles?”

I nod.

“The jersey?”

I nod again, removing my backpack and unzipping it, taking out the mini jersey I had custom made and handing it over to Ethan. He pulls it out of the bag to examine it, then gives a nod of approval.

“It looks good.”

“Do you think he’ll like it?”

Ethan laughs. “Yes, he’s going to love it. Now let's get to work because we have an hour before he shows up.”

I follow him through the tunnel and onto the bench. We begin rolling out the red carpet we use for special pre-game events, starting from the bench all the way to the penalty box where I sat that first night. Ernie is busy zooming around the rink, chasing a puck Ethan threw for him.

We line the edge of the red carpet with battery-operated tea light candles.

I debated using real candles but then thought against it—knowing Ernie, he’d kick them over and cause a fire.

There’s been a few times we’ve wondered whether we’ve adopted Elliot in dog form because Ernie and Elliot are like two peas in a pod.

“Blaine, your flowers are here!”

I lift my head, and Zach’s holding the bouquet of twelve long-stem roses that I ordered—one for every month I’ve known Alex.

“Did you tip them?” I ask when I get to the bench and take them from Zach.

He nods. “Yeah, I did.”

I go to grab my wallet from my back pocket, but Zach waves me off. “You can pay me back in donuts.” He grins.

Ernie runs over, slipping and sliding on the ice, then jumps up to bite the end of the bouquet.

“Quit it!” I hold them up out of his reach.

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