Page 120 of What If I Hate You
For a second, I can’t speak. I’m too busy memorizing her. Her hair is messy from the wind, her eyes alive in a way I haven’t seen in weeks, shoulders squaring like she’s finally allowed to stand at her full height.
“Blakely…” I step closer, lowering my voice so it’s just for her. “You didn’t just win, babe. You changed the fucking game.”
She lets out a shaky laugh. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Say yes,” I tell her, grinning now because there’s no way in hell I’m letting her talk herself out of this. “Say yes and own that booth like you’ve fucking owned every damn second in the press room.”
“I agree,” Marlee states, watching the both of us with amusement in her eyes. “You should totally say yes so you can officially be part of the Anaheim family and then you and I canbe together forever doing what we love to do. What we’ve wanted to do for most of our lives.”
“Yes!” she exclaims. “Yes, yes yes! All the yes!”
Her smile breaks wide, and before I can think, I’ve got her in my arms, lifting her off the floor. She laughs against my neck, pure joy, and I swear I’ve never been more certain of anything—hockey, life, whatever—that she was meant for this.
And me? I’d do anything to see her keep winning.
I set her down reluctantly, still caught in the high of her victory and the rhythm of her laughter. “You have no idea how proud I am of you,” I say, my heart racing, not just from the thrill of watching her succeed but from this undeniable electric connection sparking back to life between us. “I love you so much.”
She steps back, her eyes sparkling with mischief and delight. “Are you sure you’re okay with it?” There’s a hint of uncertainty in her voice that makes me want to shake my head in disbelief. How could she think for even a second that I’d hold her back?
“Blakely,” I say, moving closer, my voice dropping to a softer tone. “This is your moment. You’ve earned every bit of this opportunity, and if anything, I’ll be the one cheering the loudest from the sidelines.”
“You say that now,” she hesitates, biting her lips the way she does when she’s about to be vulnerable. “But will you still be cheering when I’m commentating on how badly you let a few pucks through your crease? Or how your lateral movement could use some work?”
I let out a hearty laugh.
“Let’s be real, Rivers. I’m gonna let in a couple more than a few,” I say, leaning in closer, letting the teasing tone draw her eyes back to mine. The way she bites her lips is my favorite distraction. It’s the perfect mixture of confidence and vulnerability, and I can’t help but want to close the distance.
She shakes her head, a knowing smirk dancing on her lips. “I appreciate the support, but I can’t promise I won’t go hard on you when the cameras are rolling.” There’s a challenge in her gaze now, a fire that I’ve always found irresistible.
“Good,” I reply, my heart racing. “I want your commentary to be as fierce as your reporting. I want you to keep them on their toes, just like you did with that article. No holding back, remember?”
Her eyes widen slightly, a hint of awe mixed with determination. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
I nod, letting the weight of my sincerity wash over us. “I’ve seen you turn every obstacle into an opportunity, and this is just another chapter. You’re not just a pretty face in the booth. You're a force to be reckoned with. Don’t you ever forget that.”
The air thickens between us, charged with something electric and I can feel the tightening in my chest—and in my shorts—as I lean in and murmur, “Besides, I like you best when you’re all fired up about my performance on the ice. The hallway outside the tunnel likes it…my kitchen likes it…my bed likes it…and my cock, well…” I chuckle against her ear as my words are only meant for her. “My cock can’t wait for that first time you challenge my game play.”
Her laughter bubbles up, sweet and rich, filling the small office like champagne fizz. I can’t help but grin at her, at the way she glows with excitement, though a teasing edge simmers beneath my skin. “Come on, Rivers,” I say, my voice dropping to that low, playful growl I know she loves. “What’s life without a little competitive fire, huh?”
“Oh, you just want to see me take you down a peg, don’t you?” she fires back, her eyebrows raised defiantly. The spark in her eyes ignites something deep within me, and I step even closer, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off her body.
“Always. But I’m betting you’ll find it hard to be objective when I’m wearing that tight little jersey of mine,” I tease, letting my gaze drop to her lips for a heartbeat longer than I should.
She blushes, a pink hue creeping into her cheeks, and I can’t help but feel a swell of triumph. I love that I can catch her off guard, and ignite that spark of uncertainty alongside her confidence. “Oh, I have no doubt I’ll find it hard, all right,” she says with a knowing snicker. “I guess we’ll see how you feel when I’m breaking down your performance live. Can’t let my audience think I’m biased just because you’re my boyfriend.”
“I think you pronounced husband wrong.”
“Okay, maybe I do enjoy the thought of dissecting how you miss a few—wait…” Her grin slips from her face and she cocks her head, her brows pinching together. “What did you say?”
“I said I think you pronounced husband wrong.” I shake my head. “It’s not pronounced boy-friend anymore. Here in Anaheim, we pronounce it hus-band.”
Her lips slowly turn up into a coy smile. “Are you…?”
“You’re damn right I am.” I nod, grinning back at her.
Her eyes widen, full of surprise and something deeper. “You’re really serious?”
I nod again, my heart racing as the air between us thickens with unspoken promises. “I’m not just going to stand by while you take this leap. We’re in this together, Blakely. You deserve every bit of this success, and I want to be right there with you, supporting you. Cheering you on. Loving you unconditionally.”
