Chapters (108)
- Dedication
- 1. Declan
- Declan
- 2. Hannah
- Hannah
- 3. Hannah
- Hannah
- 4. Hannah
- Hannah
- 5. Declan
- Declan
- 6. Hannah
- Hannah
- 7. Declan
- Declan
- 8. Declan
- Declan
- 9. Hannah
- Hannah
- 10. Declan
- Declan
- 11. Hannah
- Hannah
- 12. Declan
- Declan
- 13. Hannah
- Hannah
- 14. Declan
- Declan
- 15. Hannah
- Hannah
- 16. Hannah
- Hannah
- 17. Declan
- Declan
- 18. Hannah
- Hannah
- 19. Hannah
- Hannah
- 20. Hannah
- Hannah
- 21. Declan
- Declan
- 22. Hannah
- Hannah
- 23. Declan
- Declan
- 24. Hannah
- Hannah
- 25. Declan
- Declan
- 26. Hannah
- Hannah
- 27. Declan
- Declan
- 28. Hannah
- Hannah
- 29. Declan
- Declan
- 30. Hannah
- Hannah
- 31. Declan
- Declan
- 32. Hannah
- Hannah
- 33. Hannah
- Hannah
- 34. Declan
- Declan
- 35. Hannah
- Hannah
- 36. Declan
- Declan
- 37. Hannah
- Hannah
- 38. Declan
- Declan
- 39. Hannah
- Hannah
- 40. Declan
- Declan
- 41. Hannah
- Hannah
- 42. Declan
- Declan
- 43. Hannah
- Hannah
- 44. Declan
- Declan
- 45. Hannah
- Hannah
- 46. Hannah
- Hannah
- 47. Declan
- Declan
- 48. Hannah
- Hannah
- 49. Declan
- Declan
- 50. Hannah
- Hannah
- 51. Declan
- Declan
- Epilogue
- Hannah
- Epilogue Two
- Grant
- Books by Nikki Lawson
I remember a bunch of news reports coming out a while back about this guy named Kaplan who used to play for the Prowlers. Apparently, he and Theo really hated each other, but from what I remember, Kaplan got tossed out of the NHL. I know better than to pry, though.
“Let’s just say we keep them in their place,” Reese says, and the conversation pauses when the waitress returns to take our order. Noah tells her to bring us a round of whatever is new on tap, and when she’s gone, Theo eyes me.
“So you’re from Canada, eh?”
“Such an original joke,” I fire back as the waitress returns and hands me a large, ice-cold pint of draft beer. Theo smirks as he takes his beer.
“Couldn’t help myself.”
I take a sip of the beer. “Yeah, I’m from Canada. Grew up in Québec and moved to the United States with my parents when I was young.”
“Interesting. How long have you been in the US now?” Noah asks.
I shrug. “I’ve been here since I was ten. You can do the math.”
“So that means you’ve been here for, what, five years?” Theo jokes, and this time I laugh with the rest of them. I’m definitely younger than most of the guys on the team, but I’m not that young.
“I guess that makes you old enough to be my dad, right?” I fire back, and Noah barks out a laugh as Theo smirks.
“I think we’re gonna get along just fine,” he says and raises his beer to me. I clink my glass against his and take another sip, feeling good about bonding with the team like this. I didn’t really know what to expect coming in as a rookie on an established, super successful team like this, but so far everyone’s been great.
“So are your parents still in the US?” Noah asks, keeping the conversation on track.
“My mom is, yeah. But I don’t have a clue what my dad is doing. He split not long after we moved here, and I haven’t heard from the piece of shit since.”
I say it matter-of-factly, no self-pity in my voice. What happened, happened. I’ve made my peace with it.
“Damn. I’m sorry to hear that, man.”
I sip my beer. “Thanks, but it’s whatever.”
Noah flashes me a half-smile. “Your mom must be proud of you for making it to the NHL.”
“Oh, yeah, she’s fucking ecstatic. All I’ve ever wanted is to make her proud. She raised me on her own, worked two jobs to make sure I had gear and could play. This contract isn’t just my dream—it’s hers too.”
“That’s awesome, man,” Theo says with genuine warmth. “Nothing better than being able to give back to the people who helped you get here.”