42. Sydney

CHAPTER 42

SYDNEY

I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror critically. It's my first day at the new addiction counseling center and I want to make a good impression, so I've dressed up more than I usually do, and my reflection in the mirror looks more like Selena than myself.

I tuck a stray lock of chestnut hair behind my ear and sigh.

"You're going to crush this, Syd," Selena says from her perch on my bed. She's still in her pajamas, sipping coffee and scrolling through her phone. "You look hot and professional. They're going to love you."

I shoot her a grateful smile. "Love you," I say, grateful that at least all the drama lately has had the side effect of bringing us closer together.

"Love you more. Now go kick some addiction ass!" She smacks my butt playfully as I roll my eyes, grab my purse and head out.

The L ride to the center is a blur. I'm too keyed up to read the novel I optimistically stuffed in my bag. I put in my earbuds instead, cranking up my "Badass Bitch" playlist and trying to psych myself up.

You're overqualified for this , I remind myself. You'll be great, you were a get for this role.

I'm feeling cautiously optimistic as I walk up to the converted warehouse that houses the center. But as soon as I step inside, my stomach plummets.

Every TV in the sunny, open concept space is tuned to sports news. And there, larger than life on the biggest screen, is a freeze frame of DJ's grinning face as he shoots the game-winning goal...

I gulp, feeling dizzy.

Of course. The Blizzards' unexpected road to the championship is the biggest story in Chicago right now.

There's no escaping it, or them.

Get it together, Nelson , I order myself sternly. DJ and Tyler are just guys. Impossibly hot, charming, amazing guys who you maybe could have loved...

"No," I say out loud, earning a puzzled look from the receptionist. I kick myself, pasting on a bright smile. "Hi there! I'm Dr. Sydney Nelson, the new addiction counselor? I'm here for orientation."

The rest of the day passes in a haze of HR paperwork, facility tours, and meeting new colleagues. Everyone is warm and welcoming, passionate about the work in a way that energizes me. I can see myself really thriving here.

But every time I pass a TV or overhear a conversation in the break room, there's an unwanted jolt of recognition.

"Did you see that pass from Johnston to Armstrong in the second period? Brilliant!"

"Simmonds absolutely stood on his head in the net last night, eh? I think the kid's finally hitting his stride…"

Each casual comment knocks the breath from my lungs. It's impossible to escape the reminders of DJ's wicked eyes and Tyler's bashful smile. The phantom feeling of their lips on my skin, their hands in my hair...

Will I ever be able to escape them?!

I roll over in bed, blinking against the sunlight streaming through the blinds. Ugh .

Today is the day. The championship game.

Despite my best efforts to avoid anything hockey related, the fact that it's happening tonight is inescapable, seeping into my consciousness like spilled coffee on a white shirt.

My fingers itch to grab my phone, to call DJ and Tyler and check in on them. See how they're holding up under the immense pressure. Make sure their heads are in a good place before the big game. But I resist the urge, shoving my hands under my pillow instead.

It's my day off and I fully intend to spend it in blissful, hockey-free isolation. A pint of indulgent ice cream, a dumb reality show marathon, and my cozy couch are calling my name. The perfect distraction from Stanley Cup madness.

A loud rap on my bedroom door jolts me out of my reverie. Selena pokes her head in, a wide grin splitting her face.

"Rise and shine, sis! We've got plans today." She has a sneaky look in her eye that makes me throw a pillow at her.

I groan and burrow deeper under the covers. "Selena, no. I'm not leaving this apartment. It's trash TV and ice cream day, remember?"

"Nuh-uh, no way." She marches over and rips the blanket off me. "It's a beautiful day and we are not wasting it! Shopping and sisterly bonding await!"

I scowl at her, mourning the loss of my cozy cocoon. "Can't we bond with some housewives? And mint chocolate chip?" I give her my best puppy dog eyes.

"Not a chance." She grabs my arm and hauls me upright with surprising strength. "You've been moping around for long enough. Time for some retail therapy and vitamin D! Doctor's orders."

I grumble but let her pull me to my feet, anyway. Resistance is futile and all that.

My mind flits unwittingly to DJ and Tyler again as I stumble towards the shower. God, I hope they're ready for tonight. I hope their teammates have their backs and their heads on straight .

I shake my head, dispelling the thoughts.

No. Not going there.

Today is about me.

And apparently, being dragged out into the world against my will by my annoyingly perky twin.

But as I step under the warm spray, I can't help but smile a little. Selena's right—moping around isn't doing me any good. It'll be nice to get outside, be distracted.

Hours later, I shift irritably in my new dress, turning to complain to Selena about going out after a long day of shopping, but my jaw drops when I realize where our rideshare has taken us.

"You—you tricked me!" I gasp, staring at the arena. "Selena, I can't be here right now, you know that!

The Stanley Cup finals—how could she spring this on me?

I'm definitely not mentally prepared to face DJ and Tyler so soon.

"I can't do this," I protest. "Not after my resignation, the way I left things with the guys..."

"Yes you can," Selena insists, bodily pushing me out of the car. "It'll be good for you! Look, Emma and everyone is here for you!"

My mind still reeling, I glance over to see Emma waving excitedly, flanked by my former coworkers decked out in team jerseys. Their joyful smiles make my heart swell.

Maybe I can do this. For them.

"We're going," Selena states, tugging me toward the entrance. "Those boys need to see the confident, sexy Sydney I know is in there." She winks. Well, that explains the shopping spree…

I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. I guess I can't avoid DJ and Tyler forever. And seeing my friends' support…

I feel a flicker of my old fearless self coming back.

"Fine, let's go," I declare, allowing Selena to lead me inside.

The Blizzards hit the ice with explosive energy, skating and passing with lightning speed. I rise to my feet along with the rest of the roaring crowd as the puck drops. Slade snags it and takes off down the rink like a shot, weaving between defenders with fluid grace.

My eyes dart to the bench, searching for DJ's familiar smirk and swagger, but his spot is glaringly empty.

An uneasy feeling twists in my stomach.

For DJ to miss a critical playoff game, something must be seriously wrong. Is his knee acting up again? Did he injure himself worse?

I chew my lip anxiously as my gaze returns to the frenetic action on the ice. The Blizzards are playing like men possessed, forechecking aggressively and peppering the opposing team's goalie with blistering slapshots.

The arena buzzes with energy—the fans can sense that this team is on a mission tonight.

Slade fires a shot that pings off the crossbar. The crowd groans in unison. I'm only half-watching the game, my mind churning with concern for DJ.

I sigh and turn my attention back to the ice, trying to lose myself in the drama of the game, rejoicing every time Tyler gets another amazing block in.

As the second period winds down, the Blizzards are clinging to a precarious 2-1 lead. The intermission buzzer sounds and I slump back in my seat, exhaling deeply.

"You okay, Syd?" Selena asks, her brow furrowed with concern. "You seem distracted."

I force a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just...wondering where DJ is, I guess."

Selena nods knowingly. "I'm sure your boy will make a dramatic entrance any minute now. He always did have a flair for theatrics."

I roll my eyes but can't help the small grin tugging at my lips. She has DJ read. Suddenly, the arena lights dim and a hush falls over the crowd. I sit up straighter, craning my neck to see what's happening.

The Blizzards are skating back out onto the ice, but instead of taking their positions, they start gliding into some kind of...formation? Murmurs of confusion ripple through the stands.

I squint, trying to make out what they're doing.

Then the jumbotron flickers to life and a collective gasp echoes around me. The camera pans out to an aerial view and my jaw drops. The players have arranged their bodies to spell out three letters:

SYD

My name, splashed across the ice in human form. Heat rushes to my cheeks and I bury my flaming face in my hands, unable to process what I'm seeing.

This can't be real.

"Sydney, look!" Selena grabs my arm, yanking my hands away. She points to the jumbotron, where a new message is flashing:

"WE LOVE YOU SYDNEY!"

Tears prick the corners of my eyes. I blink rapidly, hoping the moisture doesn't spill over.

And then I see them. DJ is standing at center ice, a bulky knee brace strapped to his leg, but his megawatt grin firmly in place. He looks directly at me and waves, his eyes crinkling with warmth. Tyler is beside him, waving too, his boyish face split in a huge smile.

I stare at them, my heart swelling with an emotion I can't name. After everything we've been through...

As quickly as it began, the moment ends. The players disperse, skating to their positions for the third period. I remain frozen, my mind reeling, barely registering Selena's excited chatter beside me.

"Holy shit," Selena keeps repeating beside me. "Holy shit!"

I nod dumbly, stunned into silence. I have no idea what just happened. But I know one thing for sure—I'll never forget this game. Not for the rest of my life.

The rest of the game passes in a blur. I barely register it, too caught up in the way that little display made me feel.

Seen. Special. Appreciated.

And DJ and Tyler were behind the whole thing.

The final buzzer blares and the arena explodes in a cacophony of cheers, whoops and joyful screams.

Glittering confetti rains down from the rafters as the Blizzards pile onto the ice, a mass of sweaty, exuberant bodies. Fans in black and white jerseys pour over the boards, flooding the rink to embrace their triumphant heroes.

It's utter pandemonium on the rink, but I'm focused, on a mission. My eyes dart through the boisterous crowd, seeking out two familiar faces.

I spot DJ's dark hair first. Tyler is right behind him, his goalie mask pushed up on his head, sandy hair tousled. They're fighting their way through the jubilant throng, eyes locked on mine.

My heart pounds against my ribs as I start pushing through the crowd, dodging leaping fans and dejected opponents. We're inexorably drawn towards each other, the pull growing stronger with each step. The din of the arena fades away until there is only the thrum of my pulse in my ears.

As we close the distance, I see the intensity burning in their eyes, the set of their jaws.

And then, in a moment I know will be forever etched in my memory, Tyler drops to his knees before me, right there on the ice. DJ comes up behind him, resting his hands on Tyler's shoulders, his full lips quirked in that signature cocky smirk. Tyler's cheeks are flushed, his blue eyes full of nervous hope and yearning.

"I'd get on my knees too," DJ says, "but…" He glances down wryly at the brace around his leg.

The roar of the arena fades into a dull hum as I stand on the ice, the world shrinking until it's just me, Tyler, and DJ, our faces flushed and breaths coming fast in the chilly air.

DJ catches my gaze, his dark eyes soft and vulnerable in a way I've never seen before.

"I wasn't at the game tonight because Tyler helped me realize I needed to put my own health first for once. Rest up my bum knee before I wreck it for good." He shakes his head ruefully. "Apparently I can't be there for you guys if I'm not there for myself first. Who knew?"

My chest tightens. I want to reach out, to pull him close, but I hold back, still frozen in place.

"I want to be the kind of man who can be real with you, Syd. The kind who's not too proud to lean on you when I need to."

Tyler shuffles closer on the ice. "We want to be there for you too, Sydney. With your job, figuring out what comes next..." I swallow hard at the raw emotion in his voice. "That's what love is. And we...we love you."

The words hang in the air, far more exhilarating and terrifying than anything else that happened on this ice tonight.

"If you'll have us, we want to be with you," DJ adds softly. "However you want this to go."

I look back and forth between DJ and Tyler, my eyes stinging with unshed tears.

Then I launch myself forward, throwing an arm around DJ and hauling Tyler up into our fierce embrace. I end up with my face smashed into DJ's shoulder, Tyler's hair tickling my cheek. I'm shaking.

Shaking, and laughing, and crying all at once.

"You're crazy," I say, my voice muffled. "You planned all of this for me? And I'm guessing Selena was in on it?"

The sheepish looks on their faces is enough to tip me off without them saying a word. And suddenly I realize something with stunning clarity.

"I love you too," I say, the words sounding right for the first time in years. "Both of you. So much."

I didn't know if I would love again after Paul. Certainly not this soon, or in a relationship this unexpected. But the two of them—their devotion, their unwavering support, our chemistry —has a beautiful hold on me.

Their arms tighten around me but it's complete and utter relief that knocks the air from my lungs.

Distantly, I register the crowd screaming their heads off, the team whooping and whistling. But I don't care.

Let them stare. The whole damn world can know.

I'm in love. We're in love. And I'm ready to take a chance on this.

Ready to open myself up again.