Page 135 of Proposal Play

46

KEEP IT TOGETHER

Asher

“I’d say I’m sorry for your loss, man, but I’m really not,” Miles says, grinning at his brother in the corridor after the game.

Tyler scratches his thick beard with his middle finger. “I’m not sorry for telling the press you slept with a stuffed bunny till you were twelve,” he shoots back as we head toward the media room.

Miles’s face turns pale. “I did not.”

I chuckle, enjoying this. “Wait—dude, you slept with a stuffed bunny?”

Tyler nods, smug. “Sure did. He was scared of thunderstorms.”

“No shame, man,” I say to Miles, trying to keep a straight face. “I’m scared of stuff too. Like anacondas. And climate change. But thunder? That’s loud, so I get it.”

Miles huffs, clearly not amused. He turns to his brother with a scowl. “I mean it, Ty.”

Tyler gives him a playful pat on the cheek. “Maybe don’t gloat, then.”

“You’d do the same,” Miles grumbles.

Tyler shrugs. “Yeah, you’re right. Gloating’s fun. Go ahead, but just know I’ll gloat ten times harder when we beat you for The Cup.”

With that, we stride toward the press room. Normally, Everly only corrals the Sea Dogs players for post-game comments, but tonight, with the brother-versus-brother angle, she’s wrangled Tyler for a statement too. The press can’t resist the photo ops of the two Falcons in the NHL.

Me? I’m on my way out. “Catch you guys later,” I say, stepping aside when they reach the media room.

“You’re not staying to rub it in?” Tyler asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Nope,” I say, nodding down the hall. “I’ve got somewhere to be.”

Miles smirks. “His wife and his dads are here. Pretty sure it’s his wife he’s rushing to see.”

With that word—wife—Tyler’s smile fades as something dark flickers in his eyes. It’s subtle but unmistakable—a shadow of someone who’s been through the wringer when it comes to love. His jaw tightens for just a moment before he nods. “See you later.”

If it were another night, another time, I’d ask how he’s doing. But we both have places to be, so I give a crisp nod to my rival, then look to my teammate. “Thanks for the tips on how to score on your brother, Miles,” I call out over my shoulder.

“Don’t forget—I know your secrets, Callahan,” Miles fires back with a grin.

Shit. He does. I backtrack. “No shame, Falcon. I slept with a stuffed rabbit myself.”

“Good man,” Miles says, and with that, he and Tyler disappear into the media room.

In my post-game suit, I walk down the hallway, the noise of the arena fading behind me, my thoughts drifting ahead to Maeve. For a moment, I let the scene play out in my mind. Days like today. Nights like this one. A life with her.

It hits me hard, nearly stopping me in my tracks. This deep, heady desire—this overwhelming need for her to be here, to be with me. To be part of my life in every way that counts.

I drag a hand through my hair, trying to catch my breath. The intensity of it all—the desire to make it happen—surges through me.

I want this. Ineedthis.

Before I reach Maeve and my dads, I check my phone. There’s a response to the calls I made earlier—some texts letting me know that yes, what I want is possible.

Good. That’s really good. Because one thing I learned after googling “how to make your wife fall in love with you” is to be the man she needs, to give her what she wants, tobethere for her.

I can do that. Iwilldo that.