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“Shit,” I hiss.

“And it’ll only get worse the longer you wait.”

59

COOPER

The second I step out onto the ice, my eyes scan the crowd, looking for him.

I never understood why my teammates were always so obsessed with finding their person in the crowd. But I get it now.

My need to know that he’s here is too much to ignore. And the second I find him and our eyes connect, the world starts to make sense again.

I always thought having someone that important to you out there watching would be a distraction. But it’s not. It’s the opposite. Because he’s here, it inspires me to play better. I want to impress him. I want him to be proud of me. And the craziest bit of all—even if I play like shit or get myself ejected for losing my shit, I know he’ll be proud of me.

It’s a fucking surreal feeling, and one I should have felt all my life. But now that I have it, it means more to me than anything else.

Maybe Kodie was right. Maybe it did all happen for a reason. So that I could appreciate experiencing all the things I missed out on before.

I don’t realize I’ve stopped in the middle of the ice, lost in my thoughts, until someone skates up behind me and clamps his hand over my shoulder.

“It’s a good feeling, isn’t it?” a very familiar voice says.

I look over to find Kodie standing there, his eyes on the man in the stands who’s stolen my attention.

“Having someone out there wearing your jersey. Knowing that they’re here, especially for you.”

My eyes immediately drop to Garrett’s shoulders, and my heart slams against my ribs when I see number forty-nine on his shoulders.

Fuck. He’s wearing my jersey.

A manic laugh erupts. “I’m pretty sure he’s here for the whole team. Hardcore fan and all that.”

“Maybe so. But it’s different now. You’re his priority.”

Fuck.

“I’m happy for you, man. He’s a great guy. Sutton loves him, and since he’s been helping at her practices, she’s an even better player, if you can believe that. But if you keep staring at him, there’s a good chance you’ll be trending on X within the next ten minutes.”

“Shit,” I hiss, spinning around to face him.

“Did you mean what you just said?”

“Uh…which bit?”

“The bit about Sutton being better because of Garrett?”

“Hell, yeah. He’s helped her and the team so much.”

Pride for my man races through me.

“Why?”

“We need him up there,” I say, jerking my chin toward where I know our team of analysts sit during a game, monitoring our every move. “He would be such an asset. He just…he doesn’t think he’s worthy of it. His knowledge, man. It’s insane. His models and everything he does purely for fun. It’s wasted.”

“I’ll speak to Coach and Marsh, see what we can get into motion. But I agree; we’d all benefit from his knowledge.”

“Are you two gonna warm up or just stand there having a heart-to-heart?” Linc teases as he whips past us.