Page 136 of Cold Feet
"Lana?" he said, a question in his voice.
I stepped back to the microphone. My hands were trembling, but my voice was clear.
"Cam and I did date in college. Briefly. Intensely. It didn't work out for reasons that seemed insurmountable at the time."
I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of my next words.
"Over the years, I helped create an image of Cam that wasn't the full picture, and when it started to hurt him, I felt responsible. The truth is, Cam Murphy isn't the wild playboy myself and the media have portrayed him to be. He's loyal, thoughtful, obsessed with weird socks, and..."
I paused, my eyes locked with his.
"And... and I love him. I smiled, feeling lighter than I had in days. "If I'm being honest... I never completely got over Cam. And as hockey fans all across America already know... Cam Murphy is pretty hard to resist."
The room erupted. Camera flashes exploded like strobe lights. Reporters shot to their feet, shouting questions. But in that chaos, it felt like Cam and I were in our own bubble, the noise fading to a distant hum.
His smile – that devastating, heart-stopping smile – spread slowly across his face. He reached for my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine. When I smiled back at him, he brought my hand to his lips and kissed it softly, right where the sapphire ring caught the light.
"Cam, Cam," a reporter fromSports Insideryelled. "What about the ring? How does that fit in?"
Cam grinned, exuding his trademark charm. "The ring? Just between us? I'm still working up the courage to ask."
The room roared again, questions coming from every direction.
Coach Sully looked at me, nodded, and stepped up to the microphone, his authoritative presence immediately calming the crowd.
"I have a statement to make as well," he said, his voice cutting through the clamor. "This morning, we confirmed that Blake Churchin, an assistant coach who has been with the organization for three months, was responsible for leaking confidential team documents to the press. Blake has admitted that he did this in a misguided attempt to sabotage Cam Murphy's reputation with other teams, hoping it would kill potential trade deals and keep Cam with the Slashers."
Shocked murmurs swept through the room.
"Blake's employment with the Slashers has been terminated, effective immediately." Coach Sully's eyes found mine, and his stern expression softened slightly. "Lana Decker is as valuable a member of this team as any player or coach. Her integrity, professionalism, and dedication to this organization have never been in question."
He paused, his voice taking on the intensity he usually reserved for locker room speeches. "In hockey, when someone takes a cheap shot at one of our own, we respond as a team. We protect our own. I think the Boston Bruins can confirm that's true."
A ripple of laughter went through the room at the reference to Saturday's brawl.
To my surprise, my father stood up next. Frank Decker in his signature navy blazer and Slashers tie, the very picture of hockey royalty. The room immediately quieted – when Frank Decker spoke, people listened.
"My daughter Lana Decker has been part of the hockey world her entire life," he said, his deep voice carrying easily without a microphone. "She understands the game, the players, and the business better than most. I've watched her carve out her own place in this sport through her hard work and dedication."
He turned slightly to face Cam and me.
"Cameron spoke to my wife and myself last week after spending the weekend at our beach house with our extended family and asked for our blessing, which we wholeheartedly gave. He told us that while their relationship may have started unconventionally, his feelings for Lana were genuine and always had been. He wanted us to know his intentions were...serious."
I gasped, turning to Cam with wide eyes. He'd asked my parents for their blessing? Last week? Before the scandal even broke?
He shrugged, a sheepish smile playing at his lips. My heart was so full I thought it might burst. Cam respectfully nodded to my father, who acknowledged it with a nod of his own.
My mother dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, and even Zayne looked suspiciously misty.
Speaking of my brother, Zayne stood up next and made his way to the front of the room, shocking everyone, including me. The assembled media shifted forward in their seats – Zayne rarely spoke publicly outside of mandatory press appearances.
Who were these people impersonating my family?
"The first day I met Cam Murphy at BU," Zayne began, his voice gruff, "I told him I'd bury him in the equipment shed if he evenlookedat my sister. This has been my standard first-day-of-hockey-practice speech since I was in the third grade."
A laugh rippled through the audience.
"But I've never seen my sister or my teammate happier than when they're together," he continued. "Cam's been like a brother to me for years, and I'd be honored to call him my brother-in-law."
