you love me. And it sounds childish, but I would pay you a million dollars to take me out of here right now the way you do at home. When you pick me up, cuddle me against your chest and carry me to bed after I fall asleep on the couch.”
“Annika—”
“Let her go, you piece of shit.”
Jesus. Exactly what we didn’t need right now, interference from my brother Walker.
I watched Axl debate on whether to stay in protective mode or go on the offensive.
Before Axl could react, Walker pushed Axl’s right shoulder, trying to separate him from me. As soon as Axl turned, everything morphed into slow motion before my eyes.
Walker’s arm coming forward, his fist headed straight toward Axl’s face. The moment of impact, Axl’s head snapping back, then his letting go of me as he staggered backward a step.
My brother’s anger that he hadn’t knocked Axl down completely had him moving in for another shot.
I stepped between them. “Walker. Stop.”
“This is the fucker who caused all the problems for you and punched Jensen.”
I looked over my shoulder.
Axl smiled nastily at Walker. He had blood all over his teeth. “Your little brother hits harder.”
Oh my fucking god.
“Axl. Go home. Now! No goddamn scenes, remember? Keep it about hockey, remember?”
He retreated.
I didn’t watch him leave. I didn’t have to. I watched Walker watching him leave.
“Did he hurt you?” Walker said.
“What?”
“That asshole had his hand on your throat. Did he hurt you?”
“No. It wasn’t what it looked like. And what are you doing here? You hate this place.”
Walker scratched his cheek. “Tiffany is tired and I’m the backup bus driver.”
“Then that’s a sign to call it a night.”
• • •
It was nearly an hour and a half later before I returned to my apartment.
The lamps were off in the living room, but bluish white shadows flickered in the hallway, so I knew Axl was watching TV.
He’d sprawled in the middle of the bed, naked, holding a can of soda to the left half of his mouth.
In silence I ditched my clothes and draped them across the back of the couch in the sitting area. After I finished my bedtime beauty care routine, I exited the bathroom with one thing in mind.
Axl watched me with wary eyes as I crawled across the bed and over his body. I curled my hand around the metal can. The thing was warm, which meant it wasn’t doing him any good, so I set it aside. “So now you’ve met my brother Walker.”
“No offense, but he kind of seems like an asshole.”
I smiled. “Funny. He said the same thing about you.” I pressed soft kisses to the swollen spot on his jaw. “Does it hurt?”
Axl pushed my hair over my shoulder. “Not as much as you begging me to carry you out of the bar and offering to pay me a million dollars to do it.”
I cringed. “I’m sorry. I was having a weepy day. A needy day. A missing-you day. A needing-validation day.”
He touched my necklace. “I see that.”
I refocused on kissing the swollen spot on his face. “I love you.”
“Annika.”
“I love everything about you and I hate that when all the women were talking about their conquests or their men tonight, I couldn’t talk about you.” I brushed my lips across the bruised spot one last time before I began to work my way down his neck. “I love your mind, your heart”—I left an openmouthed kiss on his pectoral—“and I don’t even want to get into how much I love this wicked-hot, sexy body of yours.”
Axl started to squirm because he was a smart man; he knew which direction I was headed.
When I reached my ultimate destination, I looked up at him, across his marvelously defined upper torso. I teased him a little because I could.
And then I stopped teasing. I showed him how much I loved this part of him too.
Afterward, I nestled my head on his chest and listened as his heart regained a normal beat, his fingers still twisted in my hair.
He said, “You have one more brother, right?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“If that’s what I get when a member of your family takes a swing at me? I’ll introduce myself to your other brother first thing tomorrow morning.”
Thirty
___
AXL
I finally had an idea of something I could do to show Annika the lengths I’d always be willing to go to ensure her happiness. To assure her that she meant everything to me: more than hockey, more than my pride.
Just thinking about what I planned to do . . . I broke out in a cold sweat, my vision went wonky, my guts were tied in a million knots and I might actually pass out.
Dramatic much? Man the fuck up.
I made the first call. “I know what I need to do to prove it to her. Yes, I came up with it on my own, jackass. Sorry. I’m just”—nervous as fuck. I exhaled. “I’ll need your help.”
Then I placed the second call. “Would it be possible to meet with you privately sometime this week? It’s important. It’s . . . personal. Yes. I’ll be there. Thank you.”
To pull this off, I’d have to call in every favor and play the ultimate PR card.
But there was no doubt in my mind she was worth it. And if she needed an epic sign, I’d damn well give her one.
Thirty-one
___
ANNIKA
Maybe it made me a bad girlfriend, but I did not want to go to Axl’s last home hockey game of the regular season.
I’d kept a super-low profile, tuning into the games at home. The advantage there? I could listen to the sportscaster’s commentary, hit rewind, and watch what I’d missed. At a live game? I was so focused on my sexy beast whenever he took to the ice that I didn’t pay attention to anything or anyone else.
But my man had actually nagged me about going to this game. “Princess, you haven’t been to a home game in months. You don’t have to sit in the group seats. I’ll find you a single seat on the other side of the arena.”
“Do I have to wear my Hammerquist jersey?”
He’d lifted that imperious brow. “Of course.”
“What if someone recognizes me?”
He grinned. “Maybe you should wear the brown wig.”
“You are not funny.”
I ended up wearing a hoodie beneath the jersey, which was better than a hat. Although I wasn’t the only woman wearing HAMMERQUIST on my back, I thought to myself smugly how I would be the only woman wearing the actual Hammerquist on my front later.
Since I was alone and sort of bored, I snacked. Nachos, popcorn, licorice, cotton candy. I stuck with soda and skipped the beer. I’d shown solidarity with Axl and avoided booze when he did—the bonus orgasms I earned were way better and had zero calories.
I was about to sneak out during the break between the second and third periods when the announcer said they had a very special program planned and could everyone please remain seated.
The lights darkened for a moment, and then the words HAVE YOU SEEN THESE WOMEN? flashed across the TV screen. Followed by a picture of me. In the brown wig.
My heart stopped.
I blinked. I could not believe what I was seeing.
What the hell was going on? Was this some kind of joke?
After a short pause, an image of blond me filled the screen.
That started a rumbling through the arena.
I had the urge to slump deeper into my seat. Or slink out one of the exits.
Then a picture of me with red hair from last year’s Halloween costume.
Louder rumbling. I actually heard someone shout my name.
Then all three pictures of me were put up at the same time.
It was obvious it was the same woman.
The next lines of text read:
BRUNETTE, BLONDE, REDHEAD—HAIR COLOR CHANGE
S
BUT THE HEART REMAINS THE SAME
The image changed again.
Axl kissing the brunette.
Axl kissing the blonde.
Axl kissing the redhead.
A gasp went through the arena.
THERE IS ONLY ONE WOMAN
THERE HAS ONLY EVER BEEN ONE WOMAN FOR AXL HAMMERQUIST
AND SHE IS HERE TONIGHT
Oh god, what had he done? Maybe I should’ve waited to tell him about the Haversman contracts until after tonight’s game like I’d originally planned instead of confessing all after girls’ night out.
That was when the spotlight hit me.
“Annika Lund,” a voice boomed over the arena’s sound system, “could you please come down to the ice?”
I think I might’ve shaken my head no in a totally panicked WTF? moment—to the crowd’s amusement—but Axl hadn’t left anything to chance.
The next thing I knew, I was being helped out of my seat—by Brady and Walker.
“What is going on?” I hissed as they escorted me down the steps.
“You’ll see,” Walker said.
“I cannot believe you guys are in on this!”
“Forget about us. Enjoy every second of this,” Brady said.
My heart was pounding so hard I thought I might pass out.
Jensen grinned at me and bowed as he opened the gate to the ice.
A chair waited for me. Not a posh, lush chair fit for a queen. But something that resembled the iron throne from Game of Thrones.
Igor and Kazakov stood on each side and helped me in.
I had to be dreaming.
Had to.
Axl would laugh his ass off when I told him about this . . .
That was when the music started. When the voices kicked in to “Endless Love,” the spotlight zoomed in on a lone hockey player at the other end of the ice.
Then he was speed-skating straight toward me.
The crowd went insane.
But I barely heard them.
My god. I loved this man so much. What might’ve looked absolutely ridiculous or cheesy to everyone else in the arena didn’t matter a bit to me. I knew this wasn’t a joke. Or a publicity ploy. I knew exactly what it was costing Axl to ditch his pride and make a public spectacle of himself for me.
The music cut off.
He skated to a stop in front of the chair, sending the spray of ice off to the side instead of all over me because he was thoughtful that way.
He slowly took off his hockey helmet and shook out his hair.
I clapped my hand over my mouth. He’d remembered that request I’d made early on in our “just PR” days. He’d dismissed it as hokey, embarrassing and lame. Vain and cartoonish. Treating it as a joke, even when he’d understood I thought it would be sexy and I hadn’t been joking. But here he was, giving me that dream scenario I wanted. I didn’t even mind that he’d skipped the part about taking off his shirt—all those glorious muscles of his were mine to admire, no one else’s.
And it was far more romantic than I’d ever imagined. Because even though he was fully clothed, he’d bared himself—heart and soul—to me for everyone to see.
He stood before me—my own Prince Charming in hockey gear.
Big heart.
Really big balls.
I saw the wariness in his eyes.
He was breathing hard. His face glistened with nervous sweat. I’d never seen a more beautiful and welcome sight in my life. I offered him my hand, and that calmed him.
Then Axl dropped to one knee.
The crowd lost their minds at that point.
I sort of did too. I’d started sobbing because I couldn’t believe this was truly happening to me.
He grabbed a microphone beside my feet that I hadn’t noticed. “Annika.”
He swallowed with difficulty and I could scarcely breathe because I knew how hard this was for him. I leaned forward and touched his face, locking my gaze to his. I whispered, “Focus on me. Just me.”
He nodded and kissed the inside of my wrist before he continued. “For months we’ve kept our relationship private, but it’s time for the world to know we’re a couple. This is the end of one hockey season, but I want it to be the beginning of our life together. Will you please marry me?”
I couldn’t speak. I just nodded. Then I launched myself at him and it was a very good thing he was so steady on skates or he would’ve fallen on his ass.
I whispered, “I love you, Axl.”
Then he kissed me—a lingering press of his lips to mine. Nothing more.
The spotlight cut out, leaving us alone in the dark on the ice. Around us the crowd was still cheering.
Axl stood and set me on my feet. “The team only gave me three minutes, so I have to go. But we’ll finish this when the game is over, yah?”
“Yah.”
• • •
The Lund Collective ambushed me when I entered the skybox, still in a daze. Hugs first from Mom and Dad. Some tears too. Then hugs from my aunts and uncles. Then Ash and Nolan. And Lennox and Trinity. Dallas and I squealed together—probably less than we would have if we’d been by ourselves. Everyone seemed happy for me, which
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