I don't hesitate.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her into me, tucking her against my chest.
"Of course, angel. Always." I kiss her temple gently.
She doesn't say anything after that.
But a second later... I feel it.
Her shoulders tremble. Her fingers curl into my shirt. And warm tears soak through the fabric over my ribs.
I say nothing.
I just hold her tighter—holding her together the way I've always tried to—even though I know I can't stop this kind of pain.
I stay with her while she cries into the November night, the patio lights flickering softly above us.
And I don't let go.
CHAPTER fifty-two
CAROLINE
Second period.
2–2 on the board.
But if you watched only Zach, you'd swear this was a blood feud.
He cuts across the ice like a damn apex predator—fast, coiled, laser-focused—every glide sharp enough to slice glass. And poor Tyler Manning, Duluth's cocky right defenseman, is the prey who keeps forgetting he's wandered straight into the lion's cage.
Tyler tries to chase the puck into the corner?
Zach is already there—slamming him into the boards so hard the plexiglass shivers.
Tyler tries to clear the puck out of their zone?
Zach picks his pocket clean and sends him tripping over his own skates.
Tyler dares to charge toward Ridgewater's goal?
Zach steps into his path like a storm front and drops him flat on the ice.
The crowd gasps every time.
I cheer every time.
Look, do I love violence? No.
Do I lovethisviolence?
...Hell yes.
Especially when it wipes that smug, greasy smirk right off Tyler Manning's stupid face.
The arena smells like cold air and adrenaline, fans roaring around me, but I barely hear them. My whole attention is glued to number 19 speeding across the rink like he's personally offended by Tyler's existence—and honestly, yeah, he is.
Lucy leans toward me, clutching her hot chocolate with both hands. "Uh... is Zach planning to murder him tonight?"
