Page 104 of Crush
I sure hope so.
***
The Brawlers' celebration left the ice surface littered with abandoned sticks and gloves and helmets. The athletes took turns with the Cup, each player skating a lap around the rink with the trophy held high above his head.
When the last player had taken his turn, the team gathered at center ice for a team photo. The Boston crowd sent their team off with an ovation, and the athletes gleefully skated off the ice, taking the party to the locker room.
The twins were still wiping their eyes when one of the Brawlers' team reps—a young man in a suit with plenty of room to grow into—found us at our seats.
“Mrs. Ellis and kids, right?” he asked.
“Oh, no,” I chuckled. “I'm the nanny, not Mrs. Ellis.”
“Not yet,anyway,” Chloe joked, loud enough that only I could hear it.
“Oops. My mistake,” the young man said. “But if you'll come with me, the team will be accepting guests soon.”
The team rep escorted the kids and I to a VIP waiting room, where we milled around with the other Brawler family members. Ella and Paige were there, both brimming with huge smiles, and they went around the room handing out hugs to all the other Brawler 'WAGs'—wives and girlfriends.
Down the hall, the locker room door was locked, as the boys were having a team-only celebration. We could all hear the wild party underway: hoots and hollers, shouts of euphoria, howlslike a pack of coyotes,wooooo!
And then, finally, the locker room doors were thrown open.
We rushed with the other VIPs to see our champions.
The kids and I raced down the hall and ran into the locker room. The players were still dressed in their game gear, and they were soaking wet—not with sweat, but alcohol. The sweet smell of champagne and yeasty scent of beer hung in the air. One of the Brawlers emerged with a bottle of champagne, which he shook furiously before popping the cork, aiming the spray at his buddies and showering them with champagne.
Elsewhere, a Brawler poured champagne into the Cup, and the players took turns drinking from the trophy's chalice.
We found Shea sitting peacefully at his stall. While his teammates went crazy, the captain leaned back, content to soak in the moment, a sweet and humbled smile on his face. He lit up when he saw the kids. Chloe and the boys jumped into his arms and he held them tight.
“You did it, Dad!” the twins cheered.
“We sure did, guys.”
“Congrats, Dad!” Chloe said.
“Thanks, sweetheart.”
And then, the athlete set his eyes on me.
Shea stood and reached for my hand. I gave it to him, not knowing what to expect. He pulled me forward—surprised, I stumbled into his arms. Shea caught me, bent me over, and planted his mouth right onto mine.
In front of everyone.
The team, the wives, the kids,everyone.
And not a single person missed it. The Brawlers let their approval known with a manly roar—
“Get it, Boomer!”
“Aaaaaaw, yeah!”
—while the WAGs cheered and clapped with delight.
With Shea's lips pressed firmly into mine, I shot a worried glance at the kids. The twins looked just as stunned and confused as I did. Chloe, on the other hand, watched us with a smug grin.
I put a hand on Shea's chest and pushed him back. “Shea! Everyone's watching!”
