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She’s waited so long for this.

Oliver grinned wider as she met his gaze.

I get it, Georgie. I completely get it now.

FORTY-EIGHT

GEORGIE

Leafs fans poured from nearby bars and danced atop bus shelters as the delirium inside the Gardens flooded out into the warm June night. Cars trapped in the crush blasted “We Are the Champions” from their speakers, and Georgie and thousands of newfound friends chanted “GO LEAFS GO” at the top of their lungs.

Voice shredded, her cheeks ached from smiling, especially when Oliver joined in with vigour.

“You are the BEST boyfriend!” Georgie threaded her arm through his, keeping him close as they shuffled around opportunistic t-shirt sellers hawking unofficial merchandise in the middle of the sidewalk. “Taking photos for me, being here in all this, especially when you’re not a fan of crowds.”

“I don’t mind this one. Everyone’s happy and friendly!” Oliver flashed a thumbs-up to a guy hugging a homemade Cup constructed out of aluminum foil and cardboard. “I’m properly into this.”

“For real?”

“Yeah!” Oliver’s smiley gaze boomeranged back. “I was on the edge of my seat in there.”

She laughed. “Eating Twizzlers.”

“Hey, I eat when I’m stressed. I really wanted them to win, and honestly, what’s not to love?” His eyes roved the swarm. “This is a huge historical moment that’ll live on in newspapers and books for generations and we’re actually playing a part in it. Kids will tell their kids, game programs will be handed down, and whenever the win of ’93 is mentioned, WE can put our hands over our hearts and say, ‘I was there! I was IN the arena when we won the Stanley Cup.’”

“Fuck YEAH!” Michael punched the air. “Only sixteen thousand of us can claim that, too!”

Oliver nodded vigorously. “People might belittle the team’s legacy, they might laugh and joke about how it took decades to win again, but that’s what makes this Cup and Leafs fans so special. This championship will never be taken for granted. Only the true believers hung in there, waiting, cheering, never giving up for years. Loyalty and perseverance are admirable qualities that should be celebrated, not mocked.”

“Damn straight, Ollie!” Leesa shook her rattle.

“Obviously, some people will make fun regardless and never understand, but that’s their loss because being part of this”—Oliver’s gaze swept the mayhem on Carlton—“feeling this love and connection? It feels FUCKING AWESOME!”

Georgie squeezed his arm. “Aw, you’re gonna make me cry again!”

Randall slapped Oliver on the back. “Dude, I totally approve, but don’t get too used to this, okay?”

Georgie laughed as they all rounded the back of Citytv’s Live Eye truck parked along the curb. Searching the crush of people, she frowned. “Hey, where’d Kait go?”

Michael pointed skyward. “Look up, WAYYY up!”

Stepping off the top of the truck’s ladder, the fan club president grabbed hold of the Citytv sportscaster’s hand and beamed, joining him in front of the camera.

“They’re interviewing Kait!” Oliver’s jaw dropped as the reporter posed a question and tilted his microphone toward her. She answered calmly, albeit with a face painted a fetching shade of Maple Leaf blue.

“So much for hiding her identity from her grandma’s snobby bridge club,” laughed Leesa. “The news will mention her by name!”

Oliver raised Georgie’s camera, capturing Kaitlin in all her knee-wobbling glory. “God, that’s high.” He visibly gulped. “The truck’s swaying⁠—”

“YO, SALMING! THE KING!” yelled a fan squeezing behind him. “GO LEAFS!”

Ducking a passing flag, Oliver clutched the camera against his chest. “I can’t get over how much Salming is loved here.”

“Damned good advert for Sweden. Much like you.” Georgie’s heart leapt.

“There’s no going back, Ollie. You’re one of us now,” said Leesa. “How’s it feel?”

“Amazing.” Oliver kissed Georgie on the cheek, his warm gaze lingering. “I’ve finally found home.”