Page 87 of Pucking My Grumpy Accidental Husband
"It's what happens when you impress people by doing the right thing. Your principled stand didn't hurt your value, Dax—it increased it. Teams want leaders with character, and you just proved you've got both in spades."
"Can I have some time to think about this?"
"Of course. But I'll be honest—this offer expires tomorrow at noon. We need to move fast if we're going to make this happen before the trade deadline."
After he hangs up, Tessa and I sit in silence for approximately three seconds before she explodes.
"Holy shit, Dax! They basically just offered you everything you've ever wanted plus official recognition of our relationship!"
"Yeah." I'm still processing, my brain trying to catch up with what just happened. "That's... that's not what I expected."
"This validates everything we chose! They saw us fight for what we believed in and decided they wanted that kind of integrity in their organization." She's practically vibrating with excitement. "This is huge!"
"It is huge." I set my phone down and turn to face her fully. "But it's also complicated."
"How is it complicated? They're literally offering to solve every problem we thought this relationship would cause for your career."
"Because now I have to actually decide what I want more—the childhood dream job in Boston, or building something real here in Chicago with you."
Tessa's excitement dims slightly. "What do you mean?"
"I mean Boston is three thousand miles away from everything we've built here. From the team that had our backs when Harrison tried to destroy us. From your life, your career, your apartment where you organize spice racks and make coffee that doesn't taste like motor oil."
"Dax—"
"And yeah, they're offering job placement assistance, but let's be real—you'd be starting over. New colleagues, new relationships,new everything. After what happened in Seattle, after what we just went through here, are you really ready to uproot your life again for my dream?"
She's quiet for a long moment, chewing on her bottom lip the way she does when she's thinking hard about something.
"What if I am?" she says finally. "What if I want to build something new with you, somewhere that celebrates us instead of tolerating us?"
"And what if you hate it? What if you end up resenting me for dragging you across the country for my career?"
"Or what if it's amazing? What if this is exactly the fresh start we both need?"
I reach for her, pulling her closer until she's curled against my side. She smells like my shampoo and that vanilla candle she burns when she's stressed, and I want to bottle this moment—this feeling of having her here, safe, ours.
"I need to talk to the team," I say finally. "And my family. This affects more than just us."
"I know."
"But whatever we decide, we decide together."
"Together," she agrees, then looks up at me with mischief in those hazel eyes. "Though for the record, if we move to Boston, I'm keeping the good coffee maker."
"Deal. Though I draw the line at alphabetizing the spice rack."
"We'll negotiate."
An hour later, I'm standing in front of the entire team in our makeshift meeting room—which is really just the players' lounge with all the chairs arranged in a circle like we're about to start a fucking therapy session.
"So," Jamie says, because of course he's the one to break the ice, "Russo called back."
"With a better offer," I confirm, still processing the whole thing myself.
Luca Cruz whistles low. "How much better?"
"Twenty percent salary increase. Five-year guarantee. Assistant coaching position locked in for post-retirement." I pause, saving the best for last. "And official relationship recognition. No hiding, no corporate policies."
