End Game (New York Stars Book 1)

𝅘𝅥𝅮 𝄠 I’ll Show You – Justin Bieber

SCRAPING a hand over my hair as I check the status of my flight, I mutter out loud, “I’m fucked.”

Delayed.

Across the board.

I don’t know why the universe is screwing with me on today of all days when I need the airports to be working and every plane around the world to be on time so mine won’t be delayed, but that’s not happening.

Nervously, I study the screens, knee bouncing as I gnaw on my cheek, just waiting for an update.

I’m in South Carolina of all places. I have to be in New York in two-and-a-half hours and Charleston is a six-hour drive away.

Like I said, I’m fucked.

I have literally ninety minutes to be with her in the city for the graduation ceremony before I’m supposed to catch a return flight.

Not even that’s looking like it’s going to happen.

Mind racing as I consider my options, I vow, “I will not fail her.”

I’m Liam Donnghal. I have connections. Someone will rent me an emergency helicopter—

“I’m Liam fucking Donnghal,” I mutter to myself, not even thinking about the connections I have because I’m a hockey player…

I’m related to the mafia.

Not just via my father but by my sister!

If they can’t make this happen, no one can.

I contact Jennifer first because I know she and Luciu own a private jet. Whatever bullshit’s going on with the airport, though, is affecting small plane traffic too.

“Do not panic,” I mumble when I hang up the phone, uncaring that I look like a crazy person as I talk to myself in the business lounge. I bypass my father and head straight to Conor. When he answers, I blurt out, “Conor, do you have a helicopter I can borrow?”

“I do,” he says smoothly.

“I swear I’ll be back in time for the game.”

“Of course you will.”

Thinking that he’s being sarcastic, I state, “This is important. More important than the semifinals.”

“I chased Star around the world, Liam. A two-hour flight’s nothing.”

He sends me a link.

Another one pops up on my phone.

I blink.

Wait… so, he wasn’t criticizing?

“There’s a car waiting outside to take you to the nearest helipad. The second link is a car that’ll take you to the graduation ceremony.”

I don’t even care that his level of preparation is downright nuts, that he even knows what today means for Gracie—slowly, I’m acclimating to his ways and I’m just goddamn grateful that he can make this happen.

I get into the waiting limo. A quick ride later and I climb into the helicopter and, boom, we’re on our way.

When I land, I almost have a heart attack when I see Kow in the car waiting to collect me.

“What the fuck?!” I demand when I sink my ass in the passenger seat. “Conor got me the most dangerous man in North America to drive me to Gracie’s graduation?”

Pulling into traffic and almost getting us T-boned in the process, he wafts a hand. “I know people.”

“Yeah, bad people apparently.” I mean, I like Conor, but he’s still Irish Mob.

“I just wanted to do something nice,” he retorts. “I know I’ve been kind of a—”

“Jerk? Douche? Asshole? Dick? Fucker—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it. Earned it too.” He sniffs. “I’m proud of her though. One of my girlfriends was telling me it’s a real big deal, this MBA shit.”

I roll my eyes. “In between blowjobs?”

He smirks at me. “You know it.”

My eyes roll double-quick this time.

Of course, nothing is going to go right today and the universe hates me because we’re gridlocked eight blocks away from the ceremony.

“Chill out, bro. You think I’m gonna let you miss Gracie’s big day?”

I scowl at him. “No. But knowing you, we’ll get into a thirty-car pileup first.”

His nose crinkles. “You have one near-death experience—”

“One?” I sputter.

He waves a hand at me in dismissal, but I stare at the traffic, study our location on the map and that’s when, in my goddamn dress shoes, I jump out and take off through the streets.

I don’t even care that my security is back in South Carolina—I can not let her down.

Every couple minutes, I check my watch.

Time is ticking down.

Fifteen minutes.

Ten.

Five.

The doors to the building are shut—of course they are—and I can’t burst in otherwise people will know I’m there.

I grew a beard especially for her, and I didn’t go through that torture so that my identity will be doxxed within the first two seconds of me showing up. Not after she’s spent the past seven days threatening to shave me herself since I told her how hard it is for me to have facial hair now.

The building has a clock tower and it starts to chime just as I approach the signposts that lead me to the entryway.

I’m already late—I was supposed to be there before she went on stage.

I know she hasn’t replied to my last message of:

Me: I promise I’ll be there

Because my cell didn’t buzz in my jacket.

Tabarnak, she already thinks I let her down.

Panic increasing, I grab the hat and shades I shoved into my pockets earlier and put them on and try to sneak into the auditorium as silently as I can.

Thank fuck, attention is on the stage.

Thank fuck, no one sees me slip in once I hand over my invitation.

From the back of the stands, barely catching my breath after running faster than what feels like I could skate here, I watch as student after student collects their degree.

‘B’ last names come up quickly.

And then, she’s there.

Right there.

A smile is on her face as she accepts her degree, looking hot as hell in her cap and gown—I will definitely be fucking her in both. I just have to wait until tomorrow. But what makes it even better?

She turns to the crowd and seeks out the people sitting here, finding Aela and baby Cameron as well as Conor, Star and Victoria in the audience first.

As for Noah, Kow, Trent, Matt, Gray, and Cole, they agreed not to attend for her sake, but Hanna, who’s live-streaming the event for the boys, Fryd, and Ollie are here.

When Gracie finds her family in the crowd, her hand lifts and she waves to them.

Then, her gaze drifts.

I know she’s looking for me…

She had faith I’d be here.

Which is the moment she finds me.

Her smile morphs into a secretive grin but she doesn’t wave at me. That grin is message enough—she knew I’d make it.

Just like I knew, come hell or high water, I’d do anything to see that smile.

As she heads off the stage, I send her the link to her final Cameo.

This time from me.

Somehow, I think I’ll be a disappointment in comparison to Papa Roach and Blink-182, but my ego can handle that.

Because she and I are end game.

And nothing, be it delayed flights, and no one, despite our mutual crazy families, will ever change that.