The Wrong Quarterback: Chapter 26

I felt the coolness of the arena air hit my face as Parker led me inside, his hand firm around mine. The low hum of the crowd around us, the squeak of skates on ice, and the sharp clink of sticks against the glass made the nerves in my stomach tighten.

I kept my eyes on the ground as we walked down the steps to our seats, trying to ignore the fluttering in my chest. Meeting Walker—Parker’s brother—felt like a big deal. I wasn’t sure what Walker was going to think of me, but the pressure was enough to make my palms sweat.

“He’s going to love you,” Parker murmured in my ear, because he seemed to always be able to read my mind. “But obviously not as much as me,” he amended, like he was suddenly worried about that.

I laughed softly, and he winked at me, and my stomach did literal flips. I wasn’t sure that I could ever get used to the sight of him. It felt like I had woken up in the best dream ever every time I looked at him—one that couldn’t possibly be real.

We settled into our seats right in the front row, and I took it all in, shivering as I adjusted to the chill and the distant scent of popcorn and stale beer. The ice stretched out in front of us, a perfect white expanse with the blue and red lines slashed across it. Players in blue and white jerseys skated back and forth, passing pucks, some stopping to tap their sticks against the boards, sending shivers up the glass. They moved fast, like they were floating on some invisible current, each movement sharp, powerful, like the ice itself was their stage.

I caught sight of one guy, balancing on his skates while doing a full stretch, his legs spread wide, rocking his hips as he leaned forward. The stretch was…well, it looked very…sexual. I bit my lip, trying not to laugh. Parker glanced out to where I was looking.

“Fuck,” he growled, quickly placing a hand over my eyes. “Maybe bringing you down here was a bad idea.”

“I mean it’s honestly good that you don’t include that in your warm-ups. I’d have to fend off even more women,” I joked.

He smacked a kiss on my lips. “Other women don’t exist anymore.”

I rolled my eyes, but inside I was giddy.

Because I was becoming more and more sure everyday…that he actually meant it.

There was a knock on the glass, and we glanced over to see a guy in full goalie gear, grinning from ear to ear beneath his helmet.

Fuck. This was Walker.

Parker grinned as he stood up. “What’s up, Parkie-Poo,” Walker said through the glass as he took off his helmet. My eyes widened.

The Davis family was blessed.

I had to look away for a second because the combined effect of the two of them was too much for me.

There should be a worldwide revolt, where all the men on Earth send in complaints to whatever gods had created them…because they’d definitely gotten cheated.

Walker had messy brown hair and intense blue eyes that were just a shade darker than Parker’s. I understood now where his Disney nickname had come from. He looked just like a Disney prince.

His beauty was intimidating because it also meant that Parker was going to get even better looking…which I hadn’t thought was possible.

“Are you going to introduce me?” Walker asked, winking at me.

“Hey, no winking,” Parker snapped, covering my eyes again. I sighed as I pushed his hand away and saw that Walker’s lips were curled up in amusement.

“Olivia loves when I wink,” Walker commented.

“Does Lincoln?” Parker smirked. Walker sighed and rolled his eyes.

Another player skated up, stopping suddenly and spraying ice all over Walker.

“Whoops,” the new guy said, grinning as he nodded at Parker. “What’s up, Little Davis?” He was also freaking gorgeous, with dark black hair and glimmering, mischievous green eyes.

“Living the dream, Lancaster,” Parker replied, obviously at ease with this guy too.

My eyes widened when I realized this was Ari, one of Walker’s best friends. Parker had told me all about Walker’s buddies and how they were in something called “the Circle of Trust.”

I’d asked him what that was, and he said nobody knew. I guess I was never going to find out, because I wasn’t sure I could form normal words around these guys.

“Is Disney over here simping again?” Ari asked with a sigh. “Because he’s been insufferable. Ever since Golden God over there scored his last goal.”

“My brother is always simping after Linc,” Parker said. “I’m surprised Olivia isn’t jealous.”

Walker rolled his eyes at Ari’s comment, and it looked so similar to how I’d seen Parker react to Jace that I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sorry, I have taste,” Walker drawled, glancing at me again. “Don’t believe anything they say about me. It’s all lies.”

A third player arrived then, and it was definitely obvious not only who it was, but why Walker was his simp.

Lincoln Daniels was a Golden God, and possibly the only man who could rival Parker in good looks.

Parker’s hand went in front of my eyes again.

“Just in case,” he whispered.

The buzzer sounded before I could say anything else.

The game was insane. It was a different kind of rush from Parker’s football games—the tension building with every second, every shot on goal, every collision that sent players flying into the boards. There was also the fact that they hit each other. Two legit fist fights broke out in the first period alone. That almost never happened in other sports.

The crowd was relentless, too—chants, clapping, the whole arena practically buzzing as the clock wound down. The game was tied until the last few minutes, but then the Knights surged, each play faster, more aggressive, until, with just seconds left, a defenseman, Camden James, ended up scoring—a position that Parker explained didn’t score that often.

The final buzzer sounded, and the place exploded. Walker’s teammates piled onto Camden, a mess of sticks, pads, and shouting.

“What did you think?” Parker asked as we made our way down the tunnel where we would meet up with Walker and his wife for a bit before we began our three-hour drive back to campus.

“It was amazing,” I told him, and he frowned.

“But not as good as one of my football games, right?” he asked, a hint of a frantic whine in his voice.

I grinned. “Not even close,” I told him, even though it was a little bit of a lie. Hockey was pretty awesome.

Once by the locker room, Parker introduced me to Walker’s wife, Olivia, and I almost fainted when I realized that she was the super famous pop star Olivia that I’d been listening to for years. The one that had been placed in a conservatorship and whose songs made me cry.

It was all I could do to try and play it cool and not scream. By the amused glances Parker was giving me, I was not doing a good job of it.

Once Walker came out, we went up to a quieter lounge in the arena, and the four of us hung out for a bit, laughing and trading stories. Olivia filled me in on all the team gossip, and Walker made sure to tease Parker constantly, clearly enjoying my reactions every time he let some embarrassing detail slip.

The moments flew by, and I almost forgot that I hadn’t known the two of them for my entire life.

All too soon, Walker and Olivia had to leave. Olivia gave me a huge hug. “I’m so happy he found his person,” she murmured, winking at me after she’d let me go.

Her words made my heart ache in a weird, unexpected way, and as they left, I had a pang of sadness. I’d only just met them, but somehow it felt like saying goodbye to family.

“Told you they would love you,” Parker murmured as he wrapped me in a hug before we walked out of the arena to the truck.

“I—I loved them too,” I murmured, and his answering grin was almost heart-stopping.

As we drove home, all I kept thinking was how perfectly our pieces seemed to fit and that maybe…soulmates really were real.