Tacker (Arizona Vengeance #5)(38)

Swinging his leg over and then popping to his feet, he moves in closer to my locker and leans a shoulder against it. His expression turns serious. “But really… how did it feel out there? Because you looked like a different man out there.”

That gives me pause, my fingers freezing on the buttons of my dress shirt. I ask, “What do you mean?”

“I may be new to the team, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t watch you when I could on TV,” he says in a low voice. “You played great this season, but you played with a weight on your shoulders. It was obvious. Tonight, though… you looked like you were having the time of your life out there.”

Probably only Aaron would ever notice that about me, and it makes me smile. And he’s fucking right. It felt different out there.

My gaze going to my buttons, I admit, “I felt like me again out there.”

His hand comes to my shoulder, squeezes. “Happy for you, buddy.”

“Hey, if you two girls want to stop flirting with each other a moment,” a deep voice drawls from behind us. “I’m taking a headcount for Flemings.”

Aaron’s hand falls away, and we turn to see Bishop behind us. “First-line celebration. You in? And you have to say yes, because otherwise, it’s not the first line.”

My initial reaction is to decline. While my teammates never gave up on me this entire season and invited me to every single team function, I always said “no”. They probably wouldn’t be shocked if I did the same right now.

But then Nora’s words come to me. Enjoy the moment.

For some reason, it helps to know she is giving me tacit permission to enjoy this newfound reconnection to the sport and my teammates. It’s validation that I’m allowed to do this without guilt weighing me down.

“Yeah… we’re in,” I tell Bishop, knowing Aaron wants to go. He’s always up for a night out.

“Really?” Bishop asks, sounding a bit thunderstruck over my acceptance.

I roll my eyes. “Yeah… fucking really.”

Bishop snorts and moves off, and I accept I might be the subject of some ribbing in the coming weeks as I acclimate into the team dynamic.

Within half an hour, everyone is dressed and on the team bus. The ride to the hotel only takes about ten minutes. When we disembark, we don’t even enter the lobby. Flemings, a highly recommended and posh steakhouse, is just a few blocks down and we’ve already decided to walk to it.

Bishop had called ahead for a table. There’s seven of us—me, Aaron, Bishop, Legend, Dax, Erik, and Blue. Yes, this is a first-line dinner, but Blue travels with the team as a flight attendant, so she is automatically included. Part of being on a hockey team is the family dynamic. I’ve never had that be more apparent than on this team.

Drinks are ordered, and I’m glad to see the guys don’t feel like they have to abstain simply because I do. When they’re in hand, Bishop holds his glass up, and we all follow. Gripping my glass of ice water, I feel my cheeks flush slightly when he says, “Here’s to Tacker. Glad to have you back on the ice, buddy, but more importantly, glad to have you back with us.”

There’s no missing the emphasis he puts on the words “with us”. He means with us in spirit and determination. He means he’s glad I’ve been able to move past that thing holding me back from truly bonding with my mates. It’s an intimate statement and while it embarrasses me, it also grounds me a bit. It makes me realize that what I’m doing—this journey I’ve undertaken to make my way back to a normal, fulfilled life—has great rewards at the end.

Everyone says “here, here,” and “cheers”. I take a sip of my ice water, the talk immediately shifting into hockey.

“Five weeks until playoffs start,” Bishop remarks. “We’ve got a few tough hurdles to get over.”

“We’ve got this,” Erik, the one on the team with the biggest ego, says boldly.

“As long as we continue to play the way we are,” Legend says wisely.

“You all have done a great job maintaining momentum after my fuck-ups,” I tell the group, making sure I look around the table. I’m no longer captain, but I need to act like a leader. “I’m sorry I put you all in such a bad position. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“Dude,” Aaron says dramatically from my left. He loops an arm around my shoulders, leans his head against me, and exaggerates a sob. “That was fucking beautiful.”

Everyone laughs. I wrench my shoulder upward to dislodge him, muttering, “Fuck nut.”

More talk about playoffs ensues, and we place our orders. Food comes, then talk moves to family. Bishop mentions wedding plans for him and Brooke over the summer, to which he told us to save the weekend of July 8th. Legend gushed about his daughter Charlie for a while, which included passing around his phone to look at recent pictures. He’s also planning a wedding to Pepper, but he stated they were going to elope to do the deed. Somehow, I doubt that, but we’ll see.

“I’m going out to Sh?rim Ranch this weekend,” Blue announces, and that catches my attention for sure. Her eyes come to mine. “I really respect what Nora’s doing out there, and it’s a great way to do some volunteer work. Plus, Billy loves it there.”

“She’s a fucking cool woman,” Erik says in agreement.