FOOTSTEPS ECHO off the concrete walls and floor as my teammates follow me through the tunnel toward the ice. Before hitting the crowded arena, I turn around and look everyone in the group in the eye. It’s a humbling moment. Every one of these guys is here to support me.
“You don’t have to do this—”
War holds up a hand. “We all know. We’re awesome. Everyone wants to get matching penises to celebrate, and you love us. Now turn around, Saint. Let’s go show Boston what it means to show up.”
“Yeah!” Hall hollers. “To matching penises!”
Dropping his head with a chuckle, Aiden holds up his hand. “To brotherhood.”
“To doing the right thing.” McGreevey takes a step closer. “To protecting our girls. To consent!”
The sheer number of cheers to that sentiment, along with the volume, rattles me. This isn’t just about me. It’s not about my suspension. We’re doing this because of what Coach did to Sara. Every one of these guys was disgusted when they learned how he used his position of power. How he lied. Threatened her career. Manipulated her. How he stole her ability to make her own decision by deceiving her.
I swallow thickly, heart lodged in my throat. “I’ve never been prouder to be a Bolt than I am right now.”
War claps my shoulder and pushes me forward. So I go, and I lead my teammates into the arena. Every one of us is dressed in a game-day suit. The cavernous space is cold and chaotic. The fans go crazy when we emerge, but the cheers quickly turn to gasps and frustrated shouts about our lack of gear. Without a doubt, every eye follows us as we approach the bench.
The game starts in an hour. The guys should be geared up and on the ice by now. The coaches are clustered together, each studying their iPads. Not one of them notices us, so I clear my throat to get their attention.
When heads pop up in response, I fill my lungs with a deep breath of cold air and let it out again, steeling my resolve. “So long as Sebastian Lukov is the coach of this team, we won’t be on the ice.”
The men in front of us blink, and Sara pops up behind them. She’s wearing a confused expression and my Bolts jersey. “What are you doing?” she mouths.
“None of us will be suiting up until you remove Brooks’s suspension,” War demands from beside me.
Aiden steps up to my other side and grasps my shoulder. “I’ll never play for you again.”
I suck in a harsh breath at his words, and damn if tears don’t prick the backs of my eyes.
My brother is the best center in the league. Hands down, there is no competition. Yet he’s willing to put what will likely be a hall-of-fame career on the line for me.
Sara has tears in her eyes when she puts a hand on Coach’s shoulder. He still hasn’t looked up. His head is bowed over his iPad, and he’s got a Bolts hat pulled low, probably to hide the nasty bruises I left all over his face.
But then he looks up, and instead of the ice blue irises I’m expecting, I’m met with a pair of brown eyes I’d know anywhere. Surprise hits me like a shot of electricity when the man beneath the bill smirks.
“That so?”
Gavin is literally the last person I expect to be standing before me wearing a smile.
And in a hat…
This man lives in expensive suits, and his hair is always perfectly styled. He owns the team, for fucks sake. What is he doing down here on the bench?
“Gavin?” Aiden’s voice goes up an octave, like he’s been kicked in the balls.
“What are you doing here?” I can’t help the terse tone. After the way he talked to me the other day, it’s hard not to be angry with him.
Gavin smiles at Sara. “Turns out your girlfriend is a great communicator. It’s amazing what can happen when two people talk rather than yell. She and I bumped into one another, and when she politely asked me to hear her out, I obliged. Then she laid out all the facts. From there, I fired the asshole you all refuse to play for.”
“This is a bit anticlimactic,” Hall grumbles.
“Does this mean we should get dressed?” one of the second-string guys asks from the back of the crowd behind me.
Gavin stands and folds his arms across his chest. “You think?”
“Wait.” Aiden narrows his eyes at Gavin. “Who’s our coach?”
Our big brother merely grins. “You’re looking at him. Now go put on your uniforms before I make you all drop and give me a hundred.”
The guys clear out pretty quickly, but War and Aiden stay by my side.
Heart pounding, I take a step closer to my brother. “You’re not messing with me, right?”
Gavin presses his lips together in a firm line. “I wish you had come to me when you discovered what Seb had done.” He looks back at Sara. “I wish one of you had come to me.” He tucks his iPad under one arm and adjusts the brim of his hat. “That bullshit has no place here, and so I did what any good boss would do.”
“Wait, what about Aunt Zo? I thought she—”
My brother holds up his hand. “I went to see her after I left Beckett’s last night. She’s not happy, obviously, but she loves you. It will take her time to get past what happened, but in the end, she wants you to be happy, and she knows your girl is a big part of that. She told me to tell you she loves you and that Sara’s job is safe. She also turned over her interest in the team to me. After I promised her that I’d fire Seb.” He smiles at that last remark.
“I’ll go see her after the game. Try talking to her again.”
Gavin shakes his head. “She’s on her way to Paris. She’s going to spend some time with Sienna until things die down here.”
It feels wrong to feel so relieved when her entire life fell apart, but I do.
“She knows you were trying to protect her, Brooks. She gets it. But she’s gotta nurse her wounds. Her decades-long marriage is over. It’s a lot to move past.”
Beside him, Sara is crying, her cheeks streaked with tears.
When I realize, I lunge for her and pull her into my arms. “Why are you crying, crazy girl?”
“The guys were willing to sit out of the game? That was—” She shakes her head. “Brooks, look at what they did for you. I’m just emotional, is all.”
With the pads of my thumbs, I swipe at her tears. It doesn’t do any good. They keep flowing as she heaves in shaky breaths.
“They did it for you, Sara.” I bend at the knees and catch her eye. “They didn’t suit up for you. They did it in solidarity along with me, but we did it all for you. You’re a part of this team, crazy girl. Without you, none of us would have played.”
“First Beckett, then you. Do none of you believe in talking things out?” Gavin grumbles. “God, do I have to do everything?”
Sara laughs through her tears and turns in my arms, finding Aiden and War. “Thank you guys so much.”
“Can I have a hug?” Aiden holds his arms out and ambles closer. “I’m a hugger.”
War stays back, fist pressed to his mouth, laughing at my little brother.
“Oh, you’re not getting out of this.” I grab War by the lapels and pull him in. Then the four of us hug it out.
“Get in here, Gavin. We need a celebratory hug,” Aiden croons. “And then I need to come up with a song. I didn’t think we were playing, so I don’t have one prepared. What are your feelings on Ariana Grande? You seem like an Ariana Grande type of coach.”
Gavin frowns and takes a step back. “What kind of nonsense is he spewing?”
I laugh. “See what happens when you insist on talking?”
Sara peers up at me, still locked in our four-way hug. Her eyes are rimmed red, but they’re bright. I release the guys and loop my arms around her, soaking in the warmth of her body and the peace that washes over me when I know I’ve got my girl—my crazy girl, my best friend, the center of my universe—wrapped up tight in my protective hold.
“I love you,” I whisper.
Beside us, Aiden starts to sing.
Sara closes her eyes and laughs into my chest. “I love you too, Brookie.”
