12. Emile

EMILE

The knot in my stomach tightens with every passing second. The team bus rumbles, ready to depart for the away game, and my gaze keeps flicking to my phone, willing it to buzz with a message from Sara. It's been two agonizing days since she disappeared into the night with that cryptic promise about a ‘coach's daughter solution.'

It's not like she's ghosted me or anything. I got a text from her saying: Give me a couple of days to sort things out. I promise to be there cheering you on this weekend, proudly wearing your number. Trust me, your little mouse.

The suspense is killing me. I've never been good at waiting—on the ice or off—and it feels ten times worse when it's about Sara. I tap my phone against my knee, wondering if I should text her to make sure she's coming or just trust her like she asked.

I force myself to put my phone away, deciding that I need to trust my girl to follow through. Instead, I focus on the game ahead. We're playing the Northern Fury, a team we have a mixed win-loss history with. A week ago, with the way we've played so far this season, I'd have been confident we could win. But with Luc out of action, it's anyone's game.

The mood going into this is tense. Luc's absence is like a gaping wound, throwing off the team's usual rhythm. Add to that the fact that Coach Belanger called in sick to training yesterday, and the team is on edge. Normally there's a sense of camaraderie, a buzzing energy on the bus as we head to games. Today, it's replaced with an uneasy silence and anxious glances. We need to pull it together.

I pull my Nighthawks cap down over my eyes, leaning back in my seat as I try to drown out the tension around me. But when my phone buzzes with a notification, I jump to action, nearly dropping it in my haste to get at it. I let out a sigh when it turns out to just be a notification from Uber Eats trying to tempt me into ordering my next meal.

"Dude, you're gonna wear a hole in that screen with the way you're staring at it." Declan's voice jolts me out of my thoughts. He grins, settling into the seat across from me. "Who are you hoping to hear from? Another secret admirer?"

"Hardly." I shove my phone back into my pocket, forcing a smile. "Just checking the game schedule."

Declan raises an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. "Right. And I'm the Queen of England." He leans closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "So, what's the deal with you and Belanger's daughter? Stopped trying to convince everyone she's just a friend, yet?"

I hesitate. "It's complicated right now."

Declan chuckles. "When is it ever not complicated with women?" He claps me on the shoulder. "Look, whatever's going on, just don't let it mess with your head. We need you focused this weekend, especially with Luc out. You're honorary captain."

I nod, trying to take his advice to heart. But it's hard when my entire future feels so uncertain.

Declan pats my shoulder once more before standing up and moving back to his own seat. I'm about to pull out my phone again when the bus door hisses open, and a familiar figure steps inside. My world tilts.

It's Sara.

She's wearing jeans, the jersey with my number on it, and a Nighthawks baseball cap pulled low over her eyes. She looks around the bus, her gaze meeting mine for a fleeting second before she makes her way down the aisle.

The entire team falls silent, watching her every move. When she reaches my row, she stops, a nervous smile playing on her lips.

"Mind if I sit here?" she asks, gesturing to the empty seat beside me.

I'm so stunned I can barely speak. "Sara? What are you…"

She slides into the seat, her shoulder brushing against mine. "I told you I'd be here cheering you on."

"How are you…how are you on the bus?" I'm sure I sound like an idiot, but I'm too shocked and happy she's here to care.

"I'm coming with you. To the game. And to all the games after that…If that's OK with you, of course."

"That's amazing! But…how? What about Coach?"

Her grin widens. "We had a long talk. And we came to an understanding. He's going to back off, leave us to be together. And I'm going to work for the Nighthawks in the marketing department."

I blink, trying to process her words. "You're going to work for the team? I thought you didn't want that."

"That's what I thought too. But then I went and fell for the team's rookie, and now it turns out that traveling with you guys and managing the team's social media presence is what I think is best for me. And it's actually my dream job when you think about it. I get to do what I love, and I get to be with the man I love. And there aren't any plates for me to break or beignets for me to drop."

My heart lodges in my throat. "Wait. The man you love?"

She blushes, ducking her head. "I know it's fast, and it's crazy, but it's true. I love you, Emile. And it's OK if you're not ready to say it back."

I reach out, cupping her face in my hands. "No. I'm more than ready. I love you too, Sara. So damn much. This last couple of days has been hell without you."

"How are you feeling now?" she asks, her dark eyes shining as she smiles up at me.

"Like I'm in heaven," I murmur, pulling her closer and sealing my words with a kiss, right there on the team bus, in front of all the guys. I can hear them whooping and cheering, but I don't care. All I care about is the feel of Sara's lips on mine, the way she melts into me and everything in the world feels right again.

When we finally break apart, I hold her close, just breathing her in. "Guess you're stuck with me for good now," she says with a nervous laugh as she straightens up her glasses and pulls her hat from her head.

"Stuck?" I shake my head as I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in days. "Sara, being with you is not being stuck. It's like finally finding something I didn't realize was missing. It's like scoring the game-winning goal in overtime. It's…" I search for the right words, but nothing seems enough to express what I feel for her.

She laughs and places her hand flat against my chest. "Emile, it's OK. I get it. You love me. I love you too."

Leaning in, I rest my forehead to hers. "Fuck yeah, I do."