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Especially when my eyes slide to the other side of Ivy to my mom, who stands there next to her in her black jersey with the number ninety-eight in red, smiling and waving at me as she whoops and hollers that her son scored another goal in the NHL.

We win three to one, and in the locker room after the game while we change, West asks, “You going out tonight?”

I nod. “My brother-in-law is coming tonight too.” I hang up my gear in my locker before I head out.

Ivy said they were just going straight to the bar after the game and we should meet them there when we’re ready, so after my media obligations, I head with West and Kellan to the bar.

It feels reminiscent of a night a little over three months ago when Kellan, West, and I went to the same bar and ran into many of the same people.

But tonight, everything's different. Different because I’m married, and my wife is waiting for me.

I find her right away on the crowded dance floor, and even though women are flinging themselves at me and trying to stop my progress, I beeline straight for Ivy.

Dex and Ainsley are dancing with her, and it’s like déjà-fucking-vu as I think back to the night we met. Only this time, instead of her brother warning me off of her, I plant my mouth on hers. Once we come up for air, Dex congratulates me on the game, and we head over to the table. Just as we sit, a server comes over with a bottle of Don Julio 1942 complete with sparklers.

I wasn’t impressed last time, but Ivy is loving every second of it, and somehow it makes me love every second of it, too.

Once the sparklers fade, the server pours us each a shot. Once we all have a glass, we raise them up in a toast.

“To winning the first game of a brand-new season,” I say.

“To winning the rest of them, too,” West adds.

“To staying positive and testing negative!” Kellan says—the same toast he always gives.

“To not getting caught hanging out with you hockey fuckers,” Dex says, and we all laugh as we clink our glasses together and tip them back.

Once I’ve slammed my shot glass back onto the table, and once Ivy has finished sipping hers in a very ladylike manner, I pull her into my arms. She presses a kiss to my lips.

“It was so damn hot seeing you out on the ice,” she murmurs.

“It’s so damn hot seeing you in my jersey,” I say.

“Well, Mr. Maddox, get ready, because it’s all I’ll be in tonight in about an hour.”

“Fuck,” I groan, not wanting to wait an entire hour, and she leads me back out to the dance floor.

I’m not quite sure how this is where I landed. When I was in this same bar two and a half months ago, I was sulking after losing far too early in the playoffs. And then a pretty girl with blonde hair caught my eye, and now, I’m living a completely new life.

It’s not one I ever saw coming when I made that bet with West, but it’s the one that pushed me to break away from the life I was living into this new version. The best version.

And it’s just getting started.

EPILOGUE: Ivy Maddox

The Bradley Legacy

February 18

This might be the best rehearsal dinner I’ve ever been to.

The food is great and all, but the setting is incredible. And the guest list? Perfection.

I’ve already said I think this is the perfect weekend for a family get-together every year. We’ll see if we can make it happen. Cash might have games, but we can adjust by a week or two to accommodate since it works for everyone else. Three pro sports is a lot to manage, I guess.

Cash hands me my second vodka Sprite with extra cherries for the evening. I smile as he leans down and delivers it with a kiss, and he takes the chair next to me. Ainsley is beside me, and Dex is on her other side with two-year-old Jack nestled on his chest, finally asleep after a hard-fought battle with running around like a maniac for the last two hours.

A low fire crackles in the little fire pit table in front of us. Beyond that is the beach, and the sun is just setting down into the water now.