Page 146 of Breakaway Hearts

I shove up my sleeve, revealing the bracelet Callie made for me all those years ago wrapped around my wrist. I’ve got a green hair tie I stole from her last week on my other wrist, and she laughs when she sees it.

“That’s where that went!” she says.

I chuckle. “I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed it.”

“Nope.” The warmth in her eyes is just about enough to melt me right where I stand. “Not at all.”

“Good,” I tell her, leaning closer to the glass. “Because I like having these little pieces of you with me while I skate. It makes me feel like I could do fuckinganything.”

Callie flushes red, and my stomach does a little flip. Thank god for my groin guard because I’m positive otherwise, I’d be sporting a very obvious hard-on to the world. The flush she has on her face is the same as when she’s about to come, and when my eyes darken and a smirk spreads across my face, she flushes deeper. Fuck, I can’t wait to make her come again and again later.

I gesture to the rest of my team as they head off the ice, then tell Callie and my sister, “I’d better go take care of all the post-game stuff. See you soon.”

In the locker room, everyone is all smiles. Slapping each other on the back, making jokes, and poking at Theo’s already bruising face. Even Grant, whose ice-hard features rarely crack, has a pleased expression tonight—as well he should, since he made some amazing saves tonight. The guy can be hard on himself, but I’m glad he can recognize when he did well too. He’s one of the best goalies in the league.

After showers and a short post-game meeting with Dunaway and the assistant coaches, the locker room starts to clear out, and I’m anxious to leave as well. I want to have an amazing night with Callie and Violet, go out on the town, get some drinks, and celebrate the W.

But as I’m heading toward the family and friends lounge, a familiar face stops me. My agent is walking down the hall with a man I don’t recognize, and he lifts a hand when he sees me.

Shit.I try to keep my expression neutral, but I’m pretty sure I visibly grimace. After the way things went down with that endorsement deal and me blowing off the meeting with them so I could be with Callie, I’ve been sort of waiting for Sam to drop me as a client.

But when he sees the look on my face, he chuckles.

“Hey, ease up,” Sam says with a laugh. “No need to look so upset. I’m here with good news.”

“Oh?” I say slowly, scratching my jaw as we meet in the middle of the hallway. “What’s up?”

Sam gestures to the man beside him, a smartly-dressed guy with pepper gray hair and a severe face. “This is Mr. Dalton Smith. He’s from the Fresh Fast Food franchise we’ve been working with towards an endorsement deal.”

“Oh,” I repeat, my gaze bouncing between the two of them. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Smith.”

“Please,” he says in a gravelly voice. “Call me Dalton.”

“So, um, what can I do for you?”

I clear my throat, feeling a little awkward about being face to face with the man I basically stood up for a very important meeting—not that I regret it. I don’t care if Sam brought Dalton here just so he could tell me to my face what a fuck-up I am, nothing could make me take back my choice to be with Callie that day.

She needed me, so I was there. Plain and simple.

And that’s the way it’ll always be.

“Like many people, my colleagues and I at FFF saw your post-game interview a few weeks back,” Dalton says, and I blink. That’s definitely not where I thought this conversation was going to go.

“Yeah.” I clear my throat, running a hand through my slightly damp hair. “Well, I just wanted to set the record straight about a few things. I know it went against my media training, but it felt important.”

He nods. “I understand that. We also understand you were going through difficult circumstances when we were supposed to finalize the deal initially, and after seeing how vulnerable you’re willing to be, public opinion polls for you are skyrocketing. It’s impressive to see that side of someone. We like it, and we know that hockey fans love it. So, if you’re still willing and able, we’d like to extend a deal to you with FFF as outlined in the initial contract, along with a few more commercials and possibly some radio ads. What do you say?”

I try to keep my jaw from dropping, but I’m pretty positive I look like I just forgot how to breathe. When I glance at Sam, he smiles and gives me a subtle nod.

I extend my hand wordlessly, and Dalton takes it and gives it a quick, firm shake.

“We look forward to working with you,” he says.

“Likewise,” I stammer, still reeling a bit.

“Great.” Sam gives me a thumbs up and a broad grin. “I got Dalton a ticket to the game tonight. Figured he could watch you kick some ass on the ice, then deliver the news in person. We’ll schedule another meeting soon to get the ball rolling on everything.”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

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