Page 84 of Season's Schemings
EPILOGUE
SEB
On the morning of December 30th, my wife—I’ll never get sick of those words, “my wife”—drives me up to the players’ entrance at the stadium, and then proceeds to throw her arms around me, climb into my lap, and kiss me ‘til I’m half considering saying “screw the game!” and driving us back home.
But then, Dallas walks by and smacks the window of the car, catcalling and whooping and plummeting me back to reality.
“Yas! Get in there, Slater,” he yells, pounding on the window.
“Screw off, Cooper!” I holler back, but I’m laughing. Then, I turn to Maddie, giving her one last kiss. “I’m going to miss you. First night we’ve spent apart in a while, huh?”
“We’ve been sleeping in the same bed for, like, a week.”
I grin. “Feels like forever. I can’t imagine it any other way now. ”
The Cyclones have an away game in Tennessee tonight against the Warriors—a good old-fashioned back-to-back to round out the calendar year—and I’m not sure I’m ready for it after the pounding we took from Tampa last night. On top of that loss, everything, physically, is still aching. I’d kill to just sit in an ice bath all day today.
But then again, I’d kill if I couldn't be at this game with all my teammates.
As it’s a quick trip up across the state border and we don’t really need a nutritionist traveling with us, Stef decided that she and Maddie should both take tonight off. And Maddie, surely overcome with a sudden delirium or fever, decided to take Jax up on his offer when he asked her to try camping with him again.
I think being in love is making her a little loopy.
She nuzzles her nose into my shoulder. “Don’t go propositioning any new wives at hotel bars, you hear me?”
I tug gently on the ends of her hair. “Never. I’m a one-wife kinda guy.”
“Good.” She laughs. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”
“Should be back here around midday.” I fix her with a look and mimic her tone from earlier. “And don’t get lost wandering in any woods, you hear me?”
She sticks her hand out and her little finger loops around mine. “Pinky promise. Now, go win that game for me.”
“I’ll call you when I get to the hotel tonight.”
“And I’ll answer… unless Jax takes me to some weird off-grid place with no phone service and I’m bear fodder by then.”
“Ain’t no bears in Georgia,” I reassure her.
“Yeah, there are.” She peers at me, crossing her eyes. “Are you sure that you’re actually Canadian? Because your bear knowledge is pretty appalling.”
“You’re pretty appalling, missy!” I swat her on the butt, and she laughs and gives me one last hug.
I tear myself reluctantly away from her and she hands me the thick manila envelope that’s sitting on the center console before I hop out of the car and practically sprint to the bus. I’m not technically late, but Iamthe last one to board.
For a pack of generally unruly guys, the team manages to be pretty timely.
“Sorry, Coach,” I mutter when I reach the vehicle.
Torres, who’s standing right outside the door, nods at me, his dark eyes steady. “A word, Slater.”
We step away a few paces, and Coach looks me dead in the eye. “I’m not going to beat around the bush here. Your head wasn’t in the game last night, and I believe the pre-game meeting we had about your contract is to blame.”
“I’mto blame, Coach.” I meet his gaze respectfully. “But I’ve sorted my head out, and I’ll be on it again tonight.”
He raises a dark brow. “Does that mean that you’ve come to a decision?”
“I have. And I would like to accept. In fact, here you go.” I pass him the manila envelope. “Signed, sealed, delivered.”