The Luckiest Guy in the World

 

Life with Aubrey is better than ever when her leaving is no longer a concern. And as far as hockey is concerned, the team is on fire.

 

Wolves Lead the League

 

Who Can Beat this Team?

 

Apparently, not many teams can. We roll into April, stacking up victory after victory.

And then it’s time for the playoffs!

“No fucking things up this time,” I say to the team before Game One of the first round. We’re in our home locker room, ready to hit the ice against the Arizona Coyotes. “We’ve been here before, boys, and this is where we always forget who we are. That can’t happen, not tonight. And not the next game, either. Let’s go for four in a row and close this thing out fast. Let’s make it to the second round of the playoffs for the first time in Wolves history. Can we do that, eh?”

“You bet your ass we can!” Benny yells out.

“Fuck, yeah,” Nolan chimes in.

There’s a flurry of other assents and agreements, and then the guys start tapping their sticks on the ground, a show of solidarity. I know then that this year is going to be different.

Turns out, I’m right—we win the first round of the playoffs in what I asked for, four in a row.

Round two is a little tougher. We’re matched up against the Sharks, and they’re no slouches.

I prepare for the series, which includes wanting everyone who’s important to me in attendance. My father is feeling fantastic, so he and Mom come into town. I’m more motivated than ever, knowing I came so close to losing my dad. I think about how you can’t put things off in life. If my dream really is for my dad to watch me hoist the Stanley Cup up over my head I better keep my ass focused.

That’s where Aubrey really helps. She keeps me on task, like always. She also sits with my parents during the games, cheering me and the team on. The love I feel every time I look up in the seats and catch sight of the three most important people in my life is overwhelming. I know what really matters in life now, and no matter what happens in this series I’m still the luckiest guy in the world.

But, apparently, our team is pretty damn lucky too. We keep on winning. Though maybe it’s not luck, after all. Maybe we’re just a damn good hockey club.

We win against San Jose in six games and move on to the conference final against the Dallas Stars.

We take the Stars in seven, and holy shit!

“We’re going to the Stanley Cup Finals, babe,” I say to Aubrey as I pick her up and spin her around.

We’re in the team locker room, albeit alone. All the interviews have concluded, so the other players have left.

When I put her down, I take a seat on the bench and start unlacing my skates. “Let me shower and we can finally get out of here.”

“Wait.” She wedges her cute little self between my legs and smiles down at me.

“Oh hell, I know that look,” I say.

My upper body is already bare and Aubrey traces a finger down my chest, lingering down around my abdomen. “Everyone is gone, right?” she murmurs.

“Yeah, yeah, they’re gone.” I glance around the empty space. “It’s just you and me.”

“Hmm, then I have an idea.”

I suck in a breath when she starts toying with the tie on my hockey pants. “Babe, I’m really sweaty,” I warn her. “I should take a shower first if we’re going to—”

She silences me with a finger to my lips. “I want you all dirty and sweaty, Captain. I’m not going to Zamboni you, but I want you on top of me, doing what you do best.”

“Shit.”

I have Aubrey naked in no time. And then I dirty her up like she wants, on the bench, on the floor, up against the wall…

 

 

A day after we clinch the conference title, the series out in the east ends.

“Looks like we’ll be playing the Red Wings,” I say to Aubrey, who’s been watching the game while sitting next to me on the sofa.

“Too bad it isn’t the Blackhawks,” she says. “We could’ve stayed at my place for the games in Chicago.”

“Hey, speaking of which…” We’ve not yet discussed what to do with Aubrey’s townhouse since she’s no longer living there. “Are you planning on putting your place on the market any time soon?”

Chewing at her lip, she contemplates my question. “I don’t know, Brent. Should we keep it for when we’re in Chicago? Or, I could maybe rent it out.”

“It’s up to you, babe.”

We table that discussion for later, and instead work out the logistics for the upcoming games.

“I’m glad you have home ice advantage for this series,” Aubrey says. “Playing the first two games here in Vegas will be huge.”

We’ve built a rather good fan base, so I agree. I then inform Aubrey, “Hey, do you remember that limo driver from the day you first arrived?”

She rolls her eyes at me. “How could I ever forget anything about that day, Brent? As I recall, you schmoozed the guy into leaving so you could drive me to your house and torture me along the way.”

I laugh since she’s so right.

Scooting over to her, I murmur in her ear, “Hey, it all worked out okay.”

Leaning her head on my shoulder, she agrees, “It definitely did.”

After a beat, she pulls back and asks, “Oh, so what were you about to tell me about the driver?”

“Just that I got him and his kid tickets for the first game.”

Aubrey sits up straight. “Wow, that was really sweet of you. I remember the driver talking about how he couldn’t afford to take his kid to even a regular season game.”

“Yeah, he told me the same thing.”

She places her hand on my cheek, rubbing at the playoff beard I’ve been growing. “You’re a good man, Brent Oliver,” she tells me.

And, for once, I feel like I am.