Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Laughing, I shake my head in disbelief. “You guys are all seriously impressive. And so very interesting.”
Greer shrugs. “We’ve just seen a lot. That’s why we’re good at our jobs.”
We pull into the private terminal a few minutes later, and the energy changes instantly. The Titans are already gathering near the tarmac, dressed down in joggers and hoodies, slinging bags over their shoulders. Penn directs me over to the trolleys where we stack our luggage. Callum stands off to the side, his expression on us intent.
“Come on,” Penn says, taking my hand and leading me to him.
Callum smiles, sticking his hand out in greeting. “Good to meet you, Mila. Glad to have you with us and I want to assure you that this organization has not only Penn’s back but yours as well.” He glances between the two of us. “The front office sent an email to every player and staff member this morning. Everyone knows what’s going on.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, overwhelmed with gratitude.
Penn steps into my side, voiced lowered. “And thank you, Callum, for letting Mila and the security agents travel on the plane. I wouldn’t have been comfortable with other arrangements.”
“Not a problem,” the general manager says and then nods toward Ladd, Greer and Jackson standing a few feet away. “They’ll need to get cleared to carry firearms on the plane so as soon as we get you and Mila on board, we’ll run them through that process. In fact, I’ll go speak to them now. Boarding’s in about ten minutes.”
Callum steps aside to talk to the Jameson agents and we barely have time to turn around when Stone Dumelin is there. He’s the team captain and the one most turn to, according to Penn.
He claps Penn on the shoulder. “That was one hell of an article, man. You’ve got brass ones. I’m speaking on behalf of the entire team, but we’re behind you on this.”
“Thanks,” Penn says, and for once, he actually looks… touched.
After that, it seems like a free-for-all, most everyone wanting a few words with Penn to share their support. There are backslaps and some slightly awkward but heartfelt hugs. Even North steps forward to shake Penn’s hand, and I can tell he’s fully let bygones be bygones. That relieves me because I know one of Penn’s biggest regrets is attacking North.
Penn spends a few moments introducing me to the players and does so while holding my hand the entire time. Ladd, Greer and Jackson each get a few curious looks, but everyone’s respectful. They blend in better than I expected.
When we board, Penn and I take two seats together near the front. The agents fan out—Ladd a few rows behind us, Jackson on the aisle across from him, and Greer farther back where she can watch everything. I’m sure they don’t think my stalker has snuck aboard to get to me, but I have a feeling these Jameson agents never go off duty.
For a few minutes, Penn and I sit in companionable silence. His hand holds mine, his thumb grazing the back. I glance out the window as the engines start to hum.
“These last few days,” I say quietly, “feel like they’ve happened in a blur.”
“They did,” he murmurs. “But we’re on the right path. We just need to be patient. We’re flushing them out.”
I nod, but my chest tightens a little. “Have you thought about… what happens after?”
He turns to me, brows furrowing.
“I mean,” I clarify, “when this is over. When we don’t have to look over our shoulders. What then?”
His gaze softens, but he doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he intertwines his fingers with mine. “I haven’t thought that far because…” He pauses a moment, his eyes cutting away briefly before returning. “Because I’ve spent the last decade of my life just living one day at a time. The only thing I ever had to look forward to was the next win.”
I don’t say anything. I wait, sensing there’s more.
“But lately,” he says, his words sounding rough, “it’s not just about the next win. It’s about the next morning. The next conversation. The next time I get to see you roll your eyes at me.”
My heart lurches painfully.
Penn squeezes my hand. “I don’t know how to plan for a future. But I know I want to start thinking about one. With you.”
I don’t reply—not out of fear or uncertainty—but because if I open my mouth right now, I might cry. And I’m not ruining this moment with tears.
So instead, I lean my head against his shoulder, close my eyes and hold on tight.
CHAPTER 20
Penn
Edmonton’s visitors’ locker room is a cacophony of banter, Velcro ripping from pads, and the various other noises of pre-game routines. Sounds I’ve heard hundreds and hundreds of times before.
But today it feels… different. Not because anything is technically out of the ordinary. We’re about to face off against the Grizzlies in their backyard, and everyone’s locked in. Focused. Sharp.