Page 246 of Pucking Around

“Jake and Ilmari ran a contest,” he goes on. “First fifty people to buy Rays season tickets would get flown out to this game with comped airline tickets, hotel, the works. They’re footing the bill together. Rach, within the first hour, Poppy had to shut the website down.”

“Oh my god.”

“Season ticket sales have doubled,” he adds. “Our next six home games are sold out.”

“Stop,” I whisper, shaking my head. It’s all too good to be true.

But he just smiles. “Our story is out there now. It’s trending all over social media. Poppy had to hire help to deal with the overflow, and I think your dad is ready to kill us, but it’s working,” he adds quickly. “They’re on our side. They love our story. They loveyou.”

I glance over and see my mom trying to pretend she’s not listening with tears in her eyes. Yeah, she’s been helping them. Her media ban was effective, keeping me in the dark. Always protecting me.

“Why do the jerseys say Price?” I whisper, needing Caleb to say it out loud.

His smile softens as he cups my face again, his thumb brushing along my cheek. “That was my idea. You’re always saying that it’s the Price Family against the world, right? We just figured you could use a deeper bench.”

And now I’m ugly crying, pressing my face against his chest, clinging to him.

“Mars is gonna say he can’t legally change his name unless you marry him first,” he says in my ear, his voice getting louder as the music crescendos. “But I googled it, and cohabitation also works, so don’t let him trick you. He just may have to wait five years,” he adds with a shrug.

“Wait—legally,” I cry, pulling back from him.

Caleb nods. “I submitted all the paperwork on Monday. Within the next two to four weeks, it’ll be official. I’ll be Caleb Price.”

I shake my head, heart overflowing, unwilling to believe this is all real. “And Jake and Ilmari?”

Before Caleb can respond, the announcer’s voice comes blaring over the speakers.

“Get on your feet, Rays fans! It’s time to bring out the starting lineup!”

All around us, the Rays fans cheer and stomp.

“At forward, number 19, Josh O’Sullivan!”

The Rays fans go wild as Sully shoots out onto the ice, skating around in a sharp circle.

“At forward, number 20, Ryan Langley! At forward, number 17, Henrik Karlsson!”

Langley and Karlsson come skating out one after the other and the guys start shooting pucks into the empty net.

“And at defense for the Rays, number 3, Cole Morrow! At defense number 42, Jake Price!”

The Rays fans go wild as Jake skates on to the ice with Morrow. Jake looks great in his white away game jersey. The 42’s mark his shoulders and back, but stitched across the top is my name.

“And starting in the goal for the Rays is number 31, Ilmariiiii Priiiiice!”

Even many of the Kings fans go wild cheering for Ilmari. Meanwhile the Rays fans lose their ever-loving minds.

Ilmari steps out onto the ice in his full goalie kit, his mask already pulled down, looking every inch the Bear. But he doesn’t skate to his goal. He doesn’t even look at it. I can feel his eyes on me as he skates straight across the ice. The fans behind us go nuts as he skates right up to the glass and tips his helmet back, his steely blue eyes gazing into my soul. Tugging his blocker off, he presses his hand flat against the glass.

Without hesitation, I reach out and place my hand in the imprint of his. “Oon sun,” I call through the glass.

He smiles and I feel it everywhere. “Vain sun, Rakas.”

As the crowd screams behind us, Jake skates up too, tugging off his glove, a wide smile on his face. He presses his hand against the glass next to Ilmari’s. “Hey, Seattle Girl.” His smile melts me inside. “How mad are you on a scale of one to ten?” he shouts through the glass.

I can’t help but laugh, shaking my head as Caleb leans in to kiss my temple. “Ten,” I call back.

“Yes,” he teases. “Angry make-up sex is the best.”

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