As for me, I still had my office in New York, though I mostly worked remotely from California these days. I had since the day I’d flown out to be with Max after his surgery. At first, it was because he had needed me during his recovery, but over time, I’d fallen a little in love with California. New York would always have a piece of my heart, but I loved the laid-back atmosphere out here so much. Almost losing Max had taught me a lot about priorities. Turns out, my schedule wasn’t too busy for a relationship after all, but my relationship needed to be the first thing I scheduled, rather than the last.
The final buzzer sounded, and my eyes welled up. Since the team hadn’t been in playoff contention, the win tonight didn’t change their season—though I’m sure it helped keep spirits high. All of Max’s teammates gathered around him, jumping and celebrating the end of a decade-long career. Normally fans rushed to get out of the arena as soon as a game ended, but no one left their seat tonight. They waited for Max to lift his stick over his head and take one final lap. When he did, the place erupted in a standing ovation.
I couldn’t stop crying as I watched. The Jumbotron zoomed in on his smiling face while he skated and waved, and when he got to the section below where I was seated, he looked up and winked, flashing the dimples that still made my knees weak. Things had really come full circle—from the night we’d met and I’d seen his face light up that screen, to today as his career ended and the beginning of whatever would come next for us started. Best blind date ever.
Max’s brother Tate walked up next to me and put his arm around my shoulder.
“Stop worrying. He’s happy,” he said. “Those first few months when things were iffy about whether he’d be able to come back, I wasn’t sure how he would survive without being able to play. But now he’s made peace with it—and so much of that is because of you, Georgia. You made him realize what’s important, and he’s really looking forward to getting Austin’s life-size Lincoln Logs business off the ground. He told me you’re going to help. Hell, if you’re half as successful with that as you are with your roses, you’re going to make Austin proud.”
I wiped my tears. “My makeup is already going to be a mess. Don’t make it worse, Tate.”
He smiled and squeezed my shoulder. A minute later, Maggie stood on my other side. She was now dating one of Max’s teammates. They’d met at a barbeque at our house last summer and had been inseparable since. It had worked out great for me because it meant she spent a lot of time out in California, and we traveled to games together sometimes, too.
“How you holding up?” she asked.
I sighed. “Exactly how you’d expect.”
My best friend smiled. “You want to walk down to the ice with me? Celia said Miles is going to say a few words. You should be there when Max comes off.”
I nodded. “Yeah, let’s do that.”
Maggie and I flashed our all-access passes and made our way down to the ice to stand near the rink exit. The players were still celebrating when team owner Miles Gibson walked out onto the ice. He had a microphone in his hand, and he motioned for everyone to quiet down while waving Max over to the center of the arena.
“Good evening, everyone. I don’t think I have to tell you that tonight was this guy’s last game as a player. Max Yearwood is leaving the ice after a ten-year career with six-hundred-and-seventy-two goals. That puts him in the top fifteen all-time scorers, rivaling players who’ve had careers twice as long.”
A woman in the stands screamed, “I love you, Pretty Boy!”
That started a gaggle of laughter and a myriad of others professing their love. Max shook his head, looking down and rubbing the back of his neck as if he was embarrassed. But I knew his ego had enjoyed every moment of tonight.
Eventually, Miles got control of the crowd again. “Jeez, and they say men are bad.” He chuckled. “But on that note, I just wanted to thank Max for his dedication to the team. Though he’s only been with us a couple of years, he’s become a big part of the Blades family. And we’re delighted to announce that while you might not be seeing this man on the ice next year, you will be seeing him on the sidelines. Max Yearwood leaves us as a player today, but he joins us as a coach next season.”
The crowd went crazy again. Miles let it go on for a minute and then quieted everyone once more. “Since it seems like people are not as interested in me as they are the man standing next to me, I’m going to turn the mic over to the man of the hour. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Max Yearwood.”