Mister Hockey (Hellions Angels #1)(50)

“I hope so.”

“Did you leak information about Jed’s condition to me or any other member of the press?”

“No.” Her voice was husky so she paused, cleared her throat and tried again. “Sorry, no. I never spoke about it to anyone. That was his business. His health. I’d never betray that trust.”

“Over the last few weeks you’ve developed certain feelings for Westy, is that correct?”

“Yes. Since he joined the Hellions, I always had what you could call a crush. I mean, I have two eyes, and he is gorgeous. Plus, I was attracted to his talent and, most of all, that and his sportsmanship.”

“Then you had an opportunity to meet him?”

“I did. He came and filled in at my library as a special guest. Through a series of . . . unfortunate events, we ended up spending time together. I got to know him as a man. And I realized that he wasn’t a beautiful face. He has a beautiful heart. He is even better than what you see on television. He’s kindhearted. He is funny. And he made me believe that I could be better. That I could reach out for my goals and achieve them.”

“If you had something to say to Jed right now, what would it be?”

“I’d tell him that I am in love with him. With him. Not the image. Not the fame. Not the hockey. With the man he is down to his bones. And that . . . that I’m sorry—so sorry—that I was embarrassed about my fangirling. That I hid the truth from you because it made me scared you would think that I had ulterior motivations. It was a stupid choice that only ended up doing exactly what I was afraid of, making you feel like I was a phony puck bunny concocting a devious plan. Nothing could be further from the truth. I love you and if you are listening, I hope that you believe me. Because it’s my truth.”

When she looked up Neve had tears in her eyes. She reached over and took her hand and gave it a squeeze before saying, “Wow. Powerful stuff. And I’ll let you know that my sister is honest. She says what she means. If she said that she loves you, Jed, that means that you can take that information to the bank and cash it. The question remains now, will you take her at her word? The puck’s in your net, buddy. And that’s it for our special edition. Now it remains to be seen if true love can win the day.”

She clicked off. “Now what?”

Breezy forced a smile that she didn’t feel. It was taking every inch of her willpower not to rock in a corner or chew her nails down to nubs. “Now we wait.”



Jed had flashbacks as he got off the plane from Oakland. Not again. During the short duration of his flight, his phone had apparently blown up like he was Batman on Devil’s Night in Gotham. He sat down in an empty chair at the gate and checked what the hell was going on. Every message and voice mail said the same thing.

Check the Sports Heaven Facebook page.

He listened to Neve’s podcast on occasion. It was part of the reason he’d agreed to sit down for her interview at Zachary’s a couple of weeks ago. The first step on what led him on the wild journey to Breezy. She was known for blunt opinions. And this time, he could only guess that she’d put his nuts on the chopping block for blowing off her sister.

The past two nights he’d almost called Breezy at least three dozen times. But he had to go to San Francisco. See his brother. Talk to Tamara. Set a few things straight. And what he needed to say to Breezy wasn’t going to cut it over the phone. She needed to be in front of him. He needed to look her in the eyes.

But as he clicked to the podcast, listening to her halting declaration, his heart turned inside out. His brave, brave girl. What she’d done took guts and all he could do now was hope to live up to the challenge of being worthy of her.

As he walked through the Denver terminal he grew aware of eyes on him. It wasn’t unusual. Being who he was meant he always had people staring. Usually a request for photographs. But this time was different. People were . . . clapping.

“What are you waiting for? Go get her!” an older woman shouted, walking out of a smoothie shop.

“Need a lift?” A driver pulled over on a motorized cart, tipping his hat. “On the house.”

“Thanks, man.” Jed jumped on, grateful at least that he’d packed light. No baggage.

Someone whistled. “Don’t let us down, Westy,” a dude in a camo shirt shouted from a bar, raising a nearly empty Bloody Mary.

“I’ll do my best,” he called back to cheers.

A shit-eating grin stretched from ear to ear. He’d never been one to wear his heart on his sleeve. But right now it was bursting out of his chest like a damn cartoon character. If he could, he’d hire a frigging skywriter, or singing telegram, or buy out a florist, or all three. But he didn’t have time.

He had himself and had to hope that would be enough.

Because he’d been an ass.

The driver refused to let him jump out once they left the gates, insisted on taking him all the way to long-term parking.

“I’ve been married thirty-nine years and we’ve had our ups and downs, but know what we’ve always had? Passion. When you’ve got that, everything else can go.”

He refused the tip.

At Breezy’s place, it was Neve who answered the door. “Get in,” she ordered, shutting the door behind her as she stepped onto the porch. “Now, let’s get a few ground rules straight.”