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"Cheer," I said and then chugged some water.

"Ch-cheer?"

I nodded, watching her as I drank water. "It's time to get your face on the big screen, Tiffany. Cheer," I smirked, closing the bottle and putting it away.

She took a look at the crowd and then back at me.

"You'll be fine," I reassured. "Cheer how you cheered standing next to Peters."

"I wasn't your girlfriend standing next to coach Peters," she said through gritted teeth.

Since we were sitting alone here now, the others in the locker room to take a breather, I was able to grab her hand and pull her to sit beside me on the couch. "You cheered just fine as an assistant."

She turned to stare at me. She paused and then her brows furrowed. "You confuse me," she said.

"Why?"

"Because you never act like this. But when you're playing a game and you're winning, you get happier. You're nicer," she explained. "It's different."

"Good different?" I asked, nudging her hat up with my finger.

She nodded slowly. "Good different." We heard a few reporters rushing over and I pulled her hat back down while she angled herself a little more so she was leaning into me, facing me with her side to the cameras. She pulled up a hand, blocking the cameras. "I can't believe I'm doing this with you," she huffed.

"I think it's a fair deal, don't you?" I whispered, leaning in to whisper in her ear. "You get what you want, I get what I want."

She held my gaze. "Couldn't you have chosen some other pretty little rich girl to do this for you?" She brought up her other hand, wiping my brow.

"I don't want a pretty little rich girl. I want you, didn't I make that clear earlier?" I asked, grabbing her hand and holding onto it.

"This is ridiculous. What we're doing," she said quietly.

"It's working, ridiculous or not. Why? Do you want to call it off?"

"No," she said quickly. "No, I don't."

I glanced at the timer on the big screen. We had only a couple of minutes left. "The guys will be out soon, you should get back to the stands," I mumbled.

She nodded slowly and stood up, fixing the jersey that was huge on her, and kept her head down as security held reporters back while she rushed back to the stand.

The guys came out and sat with me on the couch and loveseat out here. "I can't believe you talked poor Demi into this," Michael mumbled, all of us pulling our skates back on.

"I didn't have to talk a lot," I shrugged.

"Bullshit," Christian scoffed. "We all know you enough to know what you did."

"What did I do?"

"You found her weakness," Logan said.

"And you manipulated it," Lucas agreed.

"Then you gave her an offer she couldn't resist," Cody concluded.

I stared at them.

"Are we wrong?" Michael asked.

"No comment," I mumbled, tying my laces up. I could feel them shaking their heads at me before we stood back up while the buzzer went off, signaling the end of the break. We grabbed our hockey sticks and got back on the ice while our opposing team did the same. We resumed our positions, sticking to the same strategy because it was working and we were winning.

The game went on the way it usually does. The crowd's cheers were deafening, but the glass around the rink managed to block out a fair share of it that helped us focus. Playing a game and skating on the ice, it feels like you're flying. It really feels like you're moving so fast that everything around you is a blur. The audience, the other players, the ice under me. It's all a big blur.

Which is why you don't see it coming when a player crashes into you and the blow usually knocks you off your feet. It didn't happen to me, but it happened to Lucas right before he sent the puck to me.

I couldn't stop. It's how you play, you don't stop when someone gets hurt until the round is up. I kept moving forward and hit the puck as hard as I could, letting out a grunt and sighing in relief as it shot through the net and we scored another point. The crowd cheered and I turned back, skating over to Lucas where the rest of our team was gathered around him. He couldn't get up from the ice. "Are you okay?" I asked, kneeling down.

"What happened?" Christian asked, taking a look around.

"He slashed me," Lucas winced, sitting up.

"Where?" I questioned.

"On the back of the neck."

"With his stick?" Logan's eyes widened.

Lucas nodded, holding the back of his neck and standing up.

"Are you good to play?"

He nodded with uncertainty.

"Lucas, don't play if it hurts. It's better to sit out if it's only going to get worse," Logan warned.

"Why is there no penalty?" Cody asked, skating over to the referee.

"Lucas."

He looked up at me.

"Can you play?"

He nodded. "I can play."

I sighed, turning and skating over to the referee. He didn't seem to think it was a penalty.

"Play it on the big screen," Cody demanded. "If it's not a penalty, play it, let's watch it again!" he yelled, going to shove the referee, who seemed to have been bribed. It showed in the way he looked at the other team for approval.

I grabbed Cody's arm, pulling him back. I turned to the referee. "Is the penalty being served or not?" I lifted a brow.

"It's not a penalty."

"So it wouldn't be served if we did the same thing?"

He swallowed, looking over at the other team.

"I'm talking to you," I snapped, blocking his view.

"Be fair or don't be the ref," Cody spat, turning around and skating back to him.

"Serve the penalty," I said, "if you ever want to be a ref again." I turned back around where Cody was ready to break all the rules and punch an opponent in the face.

"Cody," Michael huffed, holding him back.

"Chill out!" Lucas exclaimed, pulling Cody away. "I'm fine, let's just play the game. And fucking win it."

Cody rolled his eyes, still glaring at the other team as we all got back into position. The ref didn't call the penalty, so now we all know how dirty the game is about to get.

We played rougher than we have before. We manipulated the rules and made penalties that couldn't be called penalties. Everybody saw what the referee did when Lucas was hit. He did nothing. We didn't even have to go that far. The game was getting even more heated, our opponents getting frustrated. In the last three rounds, they haven't even been able to touch the puck.

"Vince!" Christian sent the puck to me.

One of the opponents tried intercepting it but I beat him to it, spinning around him and skating forward, panting and out of breath. I reached the goalpost and stopped abruptly. Their defense moved out of the zone, there's nobody here to stop me from scoring. I glanced up at the screen before hitting the puck harder than I have all night. It shot through the net, ripping a hole in it. I rest the stick on the ice, turning around and skating back to my team.

One of the opponents went to the referee, arguing. But I didn't break any rules on that shot. He groaned, turning back around.

I skated past him, my shoulder bumping into his and he glared at me while the crowd chanted our team name, a large chunk of it screaming mine. "Money can't buy you everything, Wilson," I shrugged with a smirk before moving back to my team.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

We ended the last half of the game and the buzzer went off loudly. The whole stadium cheered and went crazy.

I laughed softly to myself, watching the audience while our team stood together. I glanced at the screen as the camera panned to a part of the stands where the audience was cheering loudest. Where Demi was. I watched her on the screen for a minute.

She was standing, not sitting, clapping quickly while grinning, bouncing in place. She cheered a few times, yelling with the audience.

"Is that who I think it is?" one of the anchors sitting in the booth said. "Is that her?"

"Wow," the other one laughed. "Looks like Mr. Hunter brought his own cheerleader tonight!"

She glanced up at the screen and stopped screaming but kept her smile on and kept clapping.

"His own cheerleader," the anchors chuckled. "And for those of you who don't know, that is Demi Vaughn! In not only Hunter's jersey but even his hat. What do you think the public will have to say about that, Daniel?"

"I think the public will love it or hate it."

She sat back down, pulling her hat down and lowering her head just a bit, laughing softly.

I normally leave the rink last, but today I left first. The big-screen moved off of her and she shot up, jogging down and over to the entrance of the rink. I made it over while taking my helmet off, shaking my hair out.

She stopped in front of me, staring up at me. "You won," she stated calmly.

"I always win," I scoffed.

She snorted before laughing.

I didn't think about it twice because if I did, I wouldn't do it. I put my arms around her and she did the same thing, putting her arms around my torso because to reach my neck, she'd probably have to jump up. I rested my chin on the top of her head for a minute before we both pulled away to look at each other.

She seemed nervous but she was doing a great job at hiding it. "Did I do okay?" she whispered.

I nodded, a smile tugging at my lips. "You did great." I took my gloves off and leaned down, pulling her hat off and kissing her.

"It seems like Vince has gotten rather close to his ex-assistant since their New York scandal," one of the anchors said. "I guess we all know what tomorrow's papers and tabloids will say now."

I pulled back, staring down at her. I fixed her hair and put the hat back on.

She stared at me, blinking.

"Wait for me in the lounge room," I said.

She nodded softly.

I kissed her cheek and then walked into the locker room.

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