Scandalous/ A Jordan Knight FanFic (18+)✔️

Epilogue

Jordan

One Year and Nine Months Later

I step outside the airport and climb into the back seat of the SUV, giving the driver the address to my building. My travel schedule has been ugly the past month. Boston made the playoffs. So, for the first round, I was flying back and forth to San Jose. They won that series, and now, they're playing Ottawa.

This is my third season commentating, and Boston made the playoffs all three years. They never went past the second round, but this year, they're going to win the Stanley Cup. The team is so solid. The draft pick they scored is proving to be an outstanding forward, and the trades they made have cut their only weakness, packing the lineup with some heavy talent.

My boys were so fucking smooth out there on the ice tonight.

One more win, and they're on to round three. I hope their opponents won't be far from the East Coast. A shorter flight means more time I can spend at home.

I pull out my phone, hit Mia's number, and hold it to my ear. "Baby," I say when she answers.

"Viktor is dead to me," she snaps. "He literally almost gave me a heart attack tonight. That spin move he made near the goalie when the two defensemen rushed at him toward the glass, and he slipped around and barreled through the zone? And then that hit? Did you see that hit? Jordan, I can't take it. I was on the edge of the couch, and I don't think I breathed the entire game."

"I need you to breathe for me."

I'm not asking. I'm telling. And I'm not playing around even though I love that she's so into hockey now. The last thing my girl needs is stress over a game. It's my job to handle all that and to make her life as stress-free as possible.

"I'm sucking in plenty of air now; don't worry."

"Maybe I should take all the TVs out of our condo until the playoffs are over."

"You do that, and you can say good-bye to my vagina until the playoffs are over."

"We'll keep the TVs."

"I had a feeling you'd say that." Her voice softens. "Where are you?"

Our place isn't far from Logan International Airport, and fortunately, at this hour, there isn't any traffic. That's the only good thing about traveling home this late after the games.

"Not far," I tell her.

When I first went on the road, we made a deal that I'd call whenever I landed, no matter what time it was.

"I hoped you'd be asleep by now, and you wouldn't answer."

"You know it's hard for me to sleep when you're not here."

She's been saying that for years, and every time, it fills me with guilt. Guilt for leaving so often, guilt for keeping her awake. Especially now. But, whenever I bring up the subject of retirement, even if it wouldn't be happening for quite a few years, she won't discuss it. She loves my job as much as I do, which is a relief.

I watch our building come into view, and the driver pulls up alongside the curb.

"You need your sleep, Mia."

"Just hurry home. I'll be asleep the second your arms are around me."

"See you soon," I say, opening my own door and grabbing the suitcase the driver hands to me.

I wave to the doorman on my way through the lobby as he sits behind the desk. "Did you catch the game, Ralph?"

"Jesus," he groans. "I almost forgot to bring Mrs. Salamander her dry cleaning and Mr. Rolland his Chinese takeout because I couldn't take my eyes off the screen. The team is looking so sharp."