“He’s difficult,” Zolotov muttered.
“He’s my friend, so go to hell.” I followed Sterling, catching him before the hall curved.
“Fuck. I’m sorry you saw that,” he growled, looking more serious than I’d ever seen him.
“Look, I’m the last person to lecture you about family shit.”
“He never came around when I was a kid. And I get it. He’s been married to the same perfect Russian woman for the last twenty-six years, and has three, perfect, Russian kids.” His jaw ticked. “But the only thing I’m grateful to that asshole for is that he paid my mother child support. He might have paid for my ice time, but he sure as fuck didn’t coach me up like he did for his real kids.”
“Shit. Maxim Zolotov was a rookie last year, too.”
“Yep.” He paused, and I turned when I realized he wasn’t walking. “Look. Can you not tell everyone else? I got here on my own, and I don’t need his fucking legacy hanging over me.”
“No problem.”
“Cool.” He took a deep breath, and when he looked up, it was as if the last five minutes hadn’t happened. “So, I’ve decided I’m going to wear a blue leisure suit to your wedding.”
The abrupt change would have caught me off-guard if I didn’t have an intimate understanding of hiding family dynamics.
“And that right there is the reason you will never be my best man.” We came around the corner and found a group of women standing in front of the elevator. The elevator I needed to get on so I could meet Persephone in her office.
“Oh my God, if it isn’t Cannon Price,” one of the women said, looking me up and down with a wide smile.
These were Detroit girls. I scanned over their faces, noting a few wives of the Red Wings players, and more than a few bunnies that must have elevated themselves if they were traveling with the team.
I gave them a nod and grimaced as a tall brunette swayed her way over to me. Her arms were covered in colorful tats, and her nose was pierced with a single stud. I knew her, but couldn’t remember how. Fuck. Tiffany? Taylor? Tina? What was her name? Thank God I’d never fucked her because I wasn’t inviting that drama into my life.
“I came all the way to see you,” she purred, staring at me like I was lunch.
“Then I hope you enjoyed the game.”
The elevator dinged, but I couldn’t see past the Red Wings women.
“Oh come on, Cannon. You said you’d never be interested while I was dating Ambrose, and now I’m not.” She held out her hands like she was serving something…serving herself. “So when my friends demanded a girls’ trip, I figured you’d be my reward.”
Tanya. That was her name. She’d been the on-again, off-again girlfriend of one of the guys who’d been called up from the minors, and from what I’d read, he’d gone right back down at the end of last season.
“Sorry. Not interested.”
Her face fell. “I’m sorry?”
“Not sure if you’ve heard, but Cannon here got married,” Sterling thumbed my direction. “I, however, am single and absolutely available to reward you.”
Had to give it to the kid. He had balls.
Tanya glanced him over, then arched a sculpted brow at me. “No fucking way are you married. I’ve never seen you with the same woman twice.”
“Then you haven’t seen him lately,” Sterling chimed in.
I held up my left hand, and her eyes fell to the ring, widening as she took it in.
The crowd of women parted slightly, and Persephone emerged. Her little kitten heels did jack and shit for her height, but she still turned every woman’s head as she came my way.
“There you are!” she said with a grin. “You were amazing!”
She flew into my arms, and I caught her easily, lifting her against me as my hand splayed over the number on her back. I squeezed my eyes shut and breathed in her apple blossom scent, feeling that ache in my chest transform into a fucking glow as she kissed me quickly.
I opened my eyes to see Tanya staring at Persephone’s back. I lowered my wife carefully, and she tucked into my side, turning a ready, kind smile on Tanya.
“Oh, hello! I’m so sorry, was I interrupting something?” She glanced between us.
“Persephone, this is Tanya. She dated one of the players when I was with Detroit.” I kept my arm comfortably locked around Persephone’s waist, careful not to let my bag fall on her. “Tanya, this is my wife, Persephone.”
“It’s lovely to meet you.” Persephone offered her hand, and Tanya took it, shaking it awkwardly.
“You’re…his wife?” She stared openly at Persephone.
“Yep!”
“But…you’re not his type.” Her brow furrowed.
Rage simmered in my blood, but Persephone patted my chest. “To tell you the truth, he’s not mine, either, but the man literally swept me off my feet a couple of years ago, and the rest is history!”