More years means more hockey. More Scout. More of this life that stretches beyond just the game. I could live with that.
Hockey's still important. It probably always will be. But it's not everything anymore.
Scout is.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Scout
The condo smells like garlic bread and marinara sauce. I've been cooking all afternoon, prepping enough food to feed a small army. Which is good, because that's basically what's coming over tonight.
"How many people did you invite again?" Silas asks from the kitchen doorway. He's wearing jeans and a Havoc hoodie, hair still damp from his post-practice shower.
"The Coven, Hunter and Juliet, Ryan and Wren, Beck, Jett, Thorne and Mollie..."
"Thorne and Mollie aren't dating."
"They're not not dating either." I stir the sauce. "She's coming. He's coming. If they happen to arrive at the same time and spend the whole night bickering like an old married couple, that's not my business."
Silas grins and wraps his arms around me from behind. "You're meddling."
"I'm facilitating." I lean back against his chest. "There's a difference."
"If you say so." He kisses my neck. "Need help with anything?"
"You can set the table. We're doing buffet style so people can just grab what they want."
We work together in comfortable silence. Silas sets out plates and silverware while I finish the salad. The garlic bread goes in the oven. Wine bottles get opened and left to breathe. Everything's ready by the time the doorbell rings.
Hunter and Juliet arrive first, as predicted. Hunter's carrying a case of beer and Juliet's got a bottle of expensive wine.
"We brought provisions," Hunter announces, heading straight for the fridge.
"Make yourself at home," I say dryly.
"Already did."
The rest of the group trickles in over the next twenty minutes. Ryan and Wren, her hand resting protectively on her small bump. Beck with a bottle of whiskey that probably costs more than my car. Jett with his easy smile and terrible dad jokes. Jessa and Ivy together, already gossiping about something.
Thorne shows up last, looking grumpy. Mollie arrives thirty seconds later, flushed and apologizing for being late.
"Traffic was terrible," she says breathlessly.
"I just drove here. Traffic was fine," Thorne says.
"Well, maybe you drive like a maniac and I drive like a normal person."
"I drive the speed limit."
"The speed limit is a suggestion, not a challenge."
They're still bickering when I hand them each a glass of wine. Juliet catches my eye and smirks. I mouth "told you so" and she rolls her eyes.
Dinner is chaotic in the best way. We're crowded around the living room, plates balanced on laps, conversation flowing. Hunter tells embarrassing stories about Silas in juniors.Juliet shares horror stories from dealing with difficult sponsors. Wren glows while talking about baby names. Beck and Ryan debate defensive strategies while Jett makes increasingly elaborate plans to prank the entire coaching staff.
Silas sits beside me on the couch, his hand resting on my knee. Every so often he squeezes gently, like he's reminding himself I'm real. I lean into him, feeling settled and happy in a way I didn't know I could be.
"This is nice," Jessa says, refilling her wine glass. "We should do this more often."
