THE NEXT TEN days passed in a blur. The police arrested Baxter on multiple charges and they denied him bail. The police interviewed everyone multiple times. Max, Joseph Flanynk, Lolita and the Vancouver Wolves were on the front page for a week straight.
The media frenzy was out of control. I spent every night at Maxâs place. By unspoken agreement, we didnât go on social media and we didnât read the newspapers. We didnât want to listen to what the media was saying about us. Other than the times we needed to be at practice or at work, the rest of the time we cocooned together, blocking out all the noise. We watched movies, cooked, joked around and had a copious amount of sex. We didnât talk about what had happened. We didnât want to know what others thought. All I cared about was that Max was safe and happy. Everyone else could go fuck themselves.
Dad came home from the hospital. My parents didnât talk about Max and I didnât bring him up. They didnât breathe a word when I left every day to go to his place. It felt like everyone was working overtime to not rock the boat.
With Dadâs guidance, I temporarily promoted one of the assistant coaches to take over as head coach. When Dad was back on his feet, weâd work to hire a new head coach, but so far, based on the number of wins we had to date, he was doing great and would be a candidate for the job.
Despite everything, the Wolves would make it to the playoffs.
The first time Max and the team left to go on the road, they left without me. As acting GM, my place was in Vancouver, but I still cried when he left.
TONIGHT WAS our first home game since the police had arrested Max. Dad and Mom opted to stay home for the game. I sat in the executive box alone. When the players streamed onto the ice for their warmup, I waited and waited, but Max didnât come onto the ice. My phone buzzed.
Dad: Where is Logan?
Trainer: Can you come to the dressing room?
I ignored Dadâs text and rushed down to the locker room. When I strode into the room, the two trainers stood up and walked out. Max sat, fully dressed in his uniform, in front of his locker. He didnât lift his head.
Something was wrong.
âAre you okay?â I sat on the bench in front of him, leaning my elbows on my knees, my eyes on his face.
His eyes remained down. âIâm not sure I can do it.â
âDo what, Max?â
âIâm not sure I can go out there.â
âAre you worried about the fans reaction?â
His eyes met mine again. âI havenât played a home game since they arrested me.â
âFalsely arrested you.â
He glanced around the dressing room. âIf you tell me to go out there and play, I will, Rory. Iâll do anything for you.â
I shook my head. âNo. Iâd never tell you to do something you donât want to do. If you go out there, you do it on your terms.â
He sighed. âFuck.â
âMax, do you still love to play hockey?â
âMore than anything.â
âTell me what you are thinking?â
âI donât need to be loved by this city, but I canât take the hate anymore.â
âWhat if they donât hate you anymore?â
âWhat if they do?â
âThen those assholes can go fuck themselves. Then Iâll finish out my year here with my Dad and weâll move somewhere better.â
Blue eyes held mine. âYouâd do that?â
âIn a heartbeat.â
âWhy?â
The vulnerable expression on his face broke my heart. It reminded me of his mom, and how she had let him down. Interesting, that Max had needed her to let him play hockey. And now, Max was asking my permission to quit the game. I would not make the same mistake she made. The only thing that mattered was Maxâs happiness. âBecause I love you and I canât imagine my life without you in it. And I want you to be happy.â
His smile was wistful. âYou make me happy.â
I balanced between being Maxâs girlfriend and his GM, but in this moment, I think he needed a GM. âEven if you decide not to play out the rest of the year, weâll honor your contract.â
âThatâs not fair.â
âThe Wolves havenât been fair to you. Baxter, my dad, these fans, the media. Youâve endured enough to warrant your contract being honored.â
âDo you think the Wolves will go all the way this year, if I quit?â
I shrugged. âProbably not.â
His eyes dropped. âI canât let the team down. Or you. Iâll play out the rest of the year.â
I crossed my arms. âThis isnât about anyone else, Max. This is about you.â
âIâm not an asshole. I donât want to let anyone down.â
âYou donât have to go out there.â
He winced. âI think I do.â
Worry scratched my heart. âYou have my permission to leave the game at any time, without consequence, if something bad happens out there.â
âNo, Iâm good.â He swallowed. âI think I needed you to give me a choice.â
âWhat choice was that?â
âI needed to know your feelings werenât based on whether or not I play.â
âIt never has been and it never will be.â
He stood up. âWill you cheer for me?â
âI always do.â
He bent down and dropped a hard kiss on my lips. âThanks.â
I clutched his arm. âHave fun. I want you to love this.â
âWhy?â
âBecause when youâre happy, Iâm happy.â
He dropped a second kiss on my lips, this time more lingering. âYou will get a big reward for saying that later tonight.â
My stomach whooped in anticipation. âIâm counting on it.â
He nodded, grabbed his helmet, and walked towards the door. I followed behind him to the gate that led onto the ice.
The players were done warming up and now stood beside the benches, drinking water and waiting while the officials rolled out the red carpet for the anthem singer.
Max stepped on the ice and skated around our half of the ice. It took the crowd four seconds to recognize him. The entire place fell silent, so quiet, you could hear the blade of his skates scrape the ice.
My hands covered my mouth, and I held my breath.
Dear God, please let them be kind.
Then, one lone voice screamed from the blue section. âWe love you, Logan!â
A heartbeat later, the entire stadium erupted. Screaming, clapping, wild cheering. It was so loud, I couldnât hear myself think.
Max kept his head down as he circled the ice.
Homemade signs lifted in the air.
WE LOVE YOU, LOGAN.
IâM 33âs BIGGEST FAN
MAX LOGAN, YOUâRE OUR HERO
The wild cheering erupted into a chant. Together, 19,000 fans chanted his name.
âLogan. Logan. Logan. Logan.â
He lifted his face to the crowd, and a smile started on his face. The frenzy only heightened when he acknowledged them with a beautiful smile.
And in that moment, I knew everything would be okay.
TWO WEEKS LATER, Max and I stood on the walkway of my parentsâ house.
âHow are you doing?â I squeezed his hand.
His expression was pensive. âYou know winning over the parents has never been my strong suit.â
âTheyâre the ones who should try to win you over.â
He gave a half laugh. âDo you think your mom will like the flowers?â
Max had insisted on buying Mom the most gorgeous bouquet Iâd ever seen. âShe loves flowers.â
He took a deep breath. âOkay, here goes nothing.â
Initially, it was awkward. I could tell my parents were walking on eggshells, trying not to step on either of our toes. The four of us sat in the living room while a chef prepared dinner for us in the kitchen.
Dad cleared his throat. âWe have something weâd like to say.â
Mom reached over and took Dadâs hand.
Max sat there, completely silent. Together we waited.
Dad took a deep breath. âI knew your father, Max. It was my first year as the owner of the Wolves and Garrett Walters was a phenomenal player, but he was out of control. Sharon, your mom, came and told me what Garrett had done to her. How he had attacked her. Iâm ashamed of how I handled that situation. I should have called the police. Instead, I paid your mom money if sheâd walk away and not report Garrett. The cup was more important than a young womanâs life, and Iâve never forgiven myself.â
I sucked in my breath. Max sat beside me, so still it scared me.
Dad continued. âWhen Garrett next attacked Roryâs mom, the true magnitude of what I had done hit me. When Roryâs mom found out what I had done to your mom, she threatened to leave me. We fired Garrett and worked to find your Mom to make amends, but it was too late. We couldnât locate her anywhere.â He cleared his throat. âI did not know that she was pregnant.â
Max blinked but didnât move a muscle.
Mom cut in. âI want to thank you for taking care of our daughter the way you have. She told me about how you took care of her on the plane crash, and it seems like when we misplaced our trust in someone dangerous, you protected her. We judged you and I hope you can forgive us.â
Mom bowed her head, her shoulders shaking with tears.
Dad cleared his throat. âI know weâve done nothing to warrant your forgiveness, but for the sake of our daughter, I was hoping we could still be part of your lives. I know you make Rory happy and thatâs more than Iâve done in the past few years.â
âDad,â I whispered.
Maxâs eyes met mine and then he turned back to my parents. âI want Rory to be happy and I donât think having any hard feelings between us would make her happy.â
Mom lifted her head. âI donât think so either.â
Max stood up and so did Dad. They studied each other for an endless moment and then Max offered Dad his hand. Dad grabbed it and then pulled him into a hug. âThank you, son. Thank you.â