“No,” she said, holding his eyes steady, “but it’s the truth. You’ve been pushing yourself on the ice, dealing with all the media nonsense, holding your family up from miles away, and—” she gave a soft, almost rueful smile “—putting up with me and my walls. That’s not nothing, Murphy. That’s more than anyone should be asked to juggle.”
His throat worked, but no words came.
“You are a good brother,” she pressed on. “Patrick knows that. Your parents know that. I’ve seen how you light up when you talk about them, how you’d do anything to make their lives easier. You’ve never let them down. Not once.”
He let out a rough laugh, disbelieving, but she squeezed his hand tighter.
“Listen to me,” she whispered. “The fact that you feel this guilty for a single lapse just proves how much you love him. That’s who you are, Murphy. Not someone who forgets, someone who always shows up. And you will be there for him, like you always are.”
The words cracked something in him, enough that he bent his head until their foreheads touched. Her free hand slid up his back, grounding him, pulling him in close.
“You don’t have to carry this alone,” she murmured. “Not anymore.”
He exhaled fully, letting some of the tension bleed out. Hillary’s words had cut through the noise in his head and left only the sharp truth.
Before he could think better of it, Murphy dipped his head and kissed her.
It started soft, gratitude and need rolled into one, but the second she sighed into him, his control snapped. He deepened the kiss, one hand sliding up her back, the other curling in her hair, pulling her flush against him. Everything he’d been holding in—the fear, the pressure, the ache of almost losing her—spilled out in that kiss.
Hillary clung to him, kissing back just as desperately, her hands fisting in his T-shirt. The kitchen, the dinner, the world outside, all of it disappeared.
Until—
A sharpsizzlemade him jerk his head back.
“Shit,” he muttered, spinning toward the stove just in time to yank the pan off the burner before the chicken parm could go from golden to charred.
Hillary laughed, breathless and flushed, as she leaned against the counter, still catching her breath. “Guess I should be flattered. I can literally distract you from food.”
He set the pan down and turned back to her, grinning, chest heaving. “You have no idea.”
53
HILLARY
The office was still hushed when Hillary slid into her chair, the city outside just beginning to stir. She set her bag down, smoothed the front of her blazer, and reached for her laptop. Another day, another string of meetings. This one started earlier than usual, thanks to a brand deal call she couldn’t push off.
Her eyes landed on her desk.
Coffee. Her coffee.
Vanilla latte, extra shot. Still warm.
And next to it, a muffin tucked in a little paper bag, with Murphy’s familiar scrawl across a sticky note:Good luck in your meeting, Boss.
Her lips curved into a smile before she could stop them. She picked up the cup and took a long sip, letting the warmth spread through her chest.
It had been nearly a week of this. Two weeks of juggling late-night road games, travel, and the chaotic rhythm of playoff prep. Carolina, Florida, both back-to-backs. Florida, especially, was always brutal. Rivalry games had a way of cracking tempers wide open.
And yet, every night, no matter how late they got in, she found herself with Murphy. In his condo with Finn snoring at their feet, or at her place with takeout containers on the counter. It should have been exhausting. But somehow, it wasn’t. Somehow, she woke up feeling lighter than she had in years.
She shook her head, smiling at the ridiculousness of it. She’d lived her whole life keeping her walls high, and now here she was softened, undone, all because of one relentlessly good man and his dog.
But the coffee helped, too.
By midmorning, Hillary had already powered through the brand deal meeting and two calls, but she couldn’t focus. Not really. The coffee sitting on her desk reminded her of Murphy. The texts saved in her drawer reminded her of Murphy. The entire last two weeks reminded her of Murphy.
She’d been hiding long enough.
