The Secret Hook-Up

Only thing better than winning a game is leaving the locker room afterward to find my girlfriend wearing my jersey and waiting for me in the family room at the arena.

“I’m sorry, who was that complaining that he was old this morning?” she asks with a grin as she lifts herself the few inches necessary to press a kiss to my lips. “Because that guy out there on the ice tonight looked about twenty-three.”

I grab her around the waist and spin her in a hug. “One of the rookies was telling you he felt old this morning? When? Which one? I’ll have a talk with him.”

“You two are gross,” Paisley says.

“But it’s a cute gross,” my sister replies.

She gets the next hug. My family’s visiting for American Thanksgiving.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

So is Addie’s.

I’m getting the brother glare times four.

All of them are in Minnesota jerseys.

It’s funny as hell.

“How’d you like the front-row seats?” I ask them as Addie introduces me to all of them, their wives, and their kids.

They don’t answer.

Her brothers don’t, anyway.

They just keep staring.

I try to suck in a smile and fail. “You know you have nothing on your sister when it comes to intimidation factor, right?”

It’s safe to say Addie’s sisters-in-law like me far more than her brothers do.

I’m good with that.

We all head out to Chester Green’s, the sports bar dedicated to all things Thrusters, for a postgame drink, where Nick and Kami, Ares and Felicity, Zeus and Joey, and some other old teammates are waiting.

I stop at the bar and order drinks. When I get to the table, Felicity and Kami have already cornered Addie. Paisley’s grilling Zeus about Joey’s airplane. My sister is chatting with Addie’s sisters-in-law, and Ares and Nick are staring down Addie’s brothers.

I shove between Addie and Kami, who lights up. “Duncan! I saw the cutest dog today. Shelter guy. Total mutt. He needs a new home.”

“Look, he’s so cute,” Addie says, showing me her phone.

Kami’s already been working on her, it seems, likely with the help of Muffy, who’s also nearby. Tyler’s at the bar, getting drinks and talking to a few fans.

For all of my friends’ worries about me falling for Addie again a few months ago, all is well now. Once baseball season ended—massive tough loss in the first round of the playoffs—and Addie had five minutes to catch her breath and catch up on sleep, we made our official debut as a couple on a double date with Nick and Kami.

You win Kami over, you win over the whole group.

And Addie won them over by telling Nick the details of the prank she played in college to get her asshat of an ex kicked off campus.

After hearing a few more of the things the douchemuffin did, not just to her, I’m even prouder.

“Why’s he at the shelter?” I ask Kami, nodding at the picture.

“He was wandering a neighborhood. No collar, no chip. Just a lonely guy looking for love. You should go meet him. Bet Paisley would pet-sit for you anytime you need her to when Addie leaves for spring training.”

“We should go meet him,” Addie says. “Look at that face. And those eyes! How can you resist those eyes?”

I can’t resist her eyes.

Her smile. Her snark. Her laughter.

She makes my life brighter every single day.

She keeps me on my toes. She challenges me. She loves me.

Ares asked me the other day if I’m sure.

If I’m sure I’m ready to retire.

That’s an easy yes.

I’ll still play hockey. Still get my time on the ice. There’s a league with former pros and high-level amateurs that were matched up by the Thrusters’ and Fireballs’ adult sports community outreach program.

Have more time to fool around with my guitar.

Get a little less famous around town so I can return to some of my favorite bars from over the years.

Start a podcast about Croaking Creatures.

Walk my dog, apparently.

“Shelter open tomorrow?” I ask Kami.

“It’s Thanksgiving tomorrow.”

“Next day?”

“I’ll make a phone call and get you in.”

“We make so many exceptions for these big-headed hockey players,” Felicity says without moving her mouth.

“That’s still incredibly freaky,” Addie tells her.

“Wait until she makes your brother’s balls talk,” Nick says, still having a stare-down with Addie’s brothers.

Ares grunts in agreement.

It’s impressive to watch two grown men outstare four grown men, but that’s exactly what’s happening.

“Yo, Duncan, can I get an autograph?” a guy says behind us.

I get distracted with fans—happens when we’re out at Chester Green’s—and only have to tell people I’m not Daddie four times.

“You really couldn’t have better names,” Paisley’s saying to Addie when I finally get to sit back down. “Your couple name is epic. But please don’t call him Daddy when I’m around, okay?”

Those two are besties.

Even better besties than Addie and half the staff at CVU’s athletics department.

They weren’t thrilled the first time they met her, but that might’ve been my fault.

She did all of the talking.

I did all of the growling.

Neither of us told Paisley about our visit. She probably suspects—Addie’s been on campus multiple times for various events since the Fireballs were knocked out of the playoffs—but she hasn’t asked.

Instead, she takes lunch dates with Addie every time.

Sometimes I think my niece knows more about my girlfriend than I do.

“You going on the next road trip?” Felicity asks Addie.

“I was planning on it, but⁠—”

“I’ll dog-sit if you get a dog,” Paisley says. “Uncle Duncan’s house is way more comfortable than my dorm.”

This is my life.

Hockey for one last season.

Family. Friends.

Addie.

Home.

Other than a dog, what more could a guy ask for?