Page 92 of Punked By the Playmaker
“Two kids and awife? Who are you?”
I chuckled. “I barely recognize myself these days. But I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”
She hauled me in for a hug, which was awkward with her giant belly in the way.
Sniffling, she pulled away. “I’m happy for you.”
“We might not have ended up with each other, but I’d like to think we both got the families we were always meant to have.”
Peeking down at her stomach, she nodded her agreement. “I think you’re right about that.” Smiling, she lifted her gaze. “I forgive you, Levi. I’m sure Dakota will give me an earful about it when she finds out, but I mean it.”
Rocking back on my heels, I asked, “How is Danny—” Bristol shot me a sharp glare, and I quickly corrected, “Dakota, these days?”
Her best friend was among the many people I needed to apologize to. She’d seen me for the walking red flag that I was and had tried to warn Bristol away. Only for me to target her in response. I was so fucking childish—calling her a nickname she hated, teasing her for being a homebody who preferred the company of books to people, and going out of my way to wreck the relationship she developed with my teammate—and I could not be more ashamed. She’d done nothing wrong. She’d only been looking out for her friend.
I hoped someday Maisie would find a friend like that.
Bristol beamed. “Oh, you mean my best friend, the best-selling author and indie bookstore owner? She’s amazing. Two little ones underfoot, one boy and one girl, and another on the way.”
“Damn.” I whistled. “Guess we’re all grown up now.”
“Yeah, I suppose we are.”
“Bristol?” Maddox reappeared on the threshold of the press room. “It’s time.”
Her cheeks pinkened. “I have to go.”
“It was really good to see you, Coop.”
That old nickname got a laugh out of her. “Yeah, you too, Nix.”
Then she was gone.
One apology down, about a million to go.
Chapter 26
Arizona
Thiswas... pandemonium.
When we were being led through the underground tunnels of Surf Arena, I hadn’t known what to expect. I’d never watched a hockey game on TV, let alone attended one in person before.
But as soon as we were spit out rinkside, in an area reserved for the players’ families pre-game, I was instantly overstimulated.
Forget the players whizzing past the glass so fast it made my head spin; the fans in the stands were just as chaotic. They held signs professing their love for certain players, their wolf whistles layering over one another, and the youngest among them beat on the glass, begging to be gifted a piece of equipment. And the loud music being pumped into the arena only served to amp up the almost party-like atmosphere.
I wondered how the hell the teams could focus on the game with all of this going on around them.
Maisie tugged on my hand, demanding my attention. “Are you coming?”
Both she and Austin were out-of-their-minds excited when Levi suggested they come to his final home game. They’d been eager to watch him play in person for a while now, but his schedule made it difficult. The last thing we needed was for Hilda to catch a glimpse of them out late on a school night on national television.
“You two go ahead.” I motioned toward the glass where several younger kids stood on chairs to see over the boards.
They took off running, pressing their faces to the smooth surface in search of the man with the number nine on the back of his jersey.
“Look!” came Maisie’s delighted cry. “There he is!” She waved a hand wildly. “Dad! Over here!”
