She nods, her breath visible in the cold air. “Me too.”
I unlock the door and hold it open for her. She steps inside first, and as it clicks shut behind us, the quiet that follows doesn’t feel heavy anymore.
Tessa sets her bag down and leans against the door, exhaling slowly. “That was… a lot.”
“Yeah.” I drag a hand through my hair, still feeling the weight of everything I said out there. “He deserved honesty. I should’ve told him sooner instead of letting him find out the way he did.”
Her expression softens, but I keep going. “I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t want to be the guy who crossed the line. But the truth is, I stopped being able to pretend a long time ago. I told myself to stay away, tried to convince myself it wasn’t worth it, but every time you looked at me, every time you smiled that way…” I shake my head, a small, helpless laugh slipping out. “I was already in too deep.”
Her eyes glisten, but she doesn’t say anything. She just steps closer, close enough that her fingers brush the front of my shirt. “You don’t have to convince me,” she says softly. “I know.”
I reach up, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, my thumb lingering along her jaw. “Good,” I murmur. “Because I meant every word I said the other night, and I don’t ever want you doubting me again.”
Her breath catches, her hands sliding up my chest until they rest at the base of my neck. “You said you’d prove it,” she whispers. “Then show me.”
I lift her, her legs wrapping around me as I press her gently against the wall. The kiss isn’t frantic or rushed. It’s full of everything we’ve held back, everything we’ve already promised without saying it out loud.
When I finally pull away, I rest my forehead against hers, both of us breathing hard.
Her voice dips, teasing. “Guess this makes it official. You’re stuck with me now.”
I grin, thumb tracing her jaw. “About time you admitted it. You were mine a long time ago.”
And standing there, with her in my arms and the weight finally gone, it doesn’t feel like starting over. It feels like finally arriving where we were always meant to be.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Clay ~ Two Months Later
The sun is low by the time I pull into the lot outside the apartment. My head’s still back at practice. I don’t bother turning the truck off right away. Just sit there, phone in hand, pretending I’m not about to check her location again.
Home.
That’s how it’s saved now. Not “Tessa’s dorm” or “Kolmont campus,” justhome.
And maybe that’s what it is. She never officially moved in—no lease, no boxes—but over the past two months, her stuff has slowly started showing up. A toothbrush beside mine. Her shoes are by the door. One of her sweatshirts is draped over the couch that she swears she’ll take back, but never does.
She’s made this place feel like something I didn’t realize I’d been missing.
Practice ran late again, the guys dragging after another long week. The playoffs are right around the corner, and for once, we’re going in with momentum. I still can’t quite believe how much has changed since I first joined the team.
Last year, Kolmont barely made it to the post-season and were out after the first round. Everyone expected the same thing this year—maybe worse after one of our top forwards went down midseason. But the team didn’t fold. We adapted and fought hard.
So when Coach Sanders and AD Thompson called me into the office right after practice, I figured it was just another check-in—maybe to discuss the plan going into the playoffs. Instead, Sanders shut the door, looked me straight in the eye, and said,“You’ve earned it.”Thompson slid the paperwork across thedesk like he wasn’t handing me everything I’ve been fighting for since the day I lost it all.
This isn’t just a title. It’s proof that every late night, every second chance, actually meant something.
I step out of the truck, locking it behind me. The air’s cold and damp, heavy with the smell of rain. I can already picture Tessa curled up on the couch, hair in a messy knot, hands wrapped around one of those oversized mugs she loves, binge-watching something on Netflix.
It hasn’t been easy getting here. After everything that went down—the leak about us, Evan finding out, the headlines that followed—I kept waiting for the fallout to cost me everything I started to rebuild. The weeks after the story broke, reporters showed up to practice, fishing for anything they could twist into a new headline.
Then our moms showed up at my apartment the next weekend… together.
We knew a couple of phone calls wouldn’t cut it. They wanted answers. Most of them were about Evan—how it went when he showed up here, what it meant for our families, and whether it would ruin the bond between us.
But when they saw us together—really saw us—they stopped asking.
And now, with today’s news, it feels like I can finally breathe. The job’s official. The people who matter most understand, and we made it through.
