Leaning my head back against her headboard, I drape my arm around her and give her a little tug. She melts into my body.
Warm. Mine.Alive.
The opening credits toTeenage Mutant Ninja Turtlesbegins to play, and I let out a real exhale, feeling the tension slip away for the first time in hours.
“Hey, Eighty-Seven?” she murmurs, her head tilting up to look at me. “Thanks for coming to get me.” Her voice is quiet, but it’s as if she’s giving me a moment I can’t quite put into words. She’s letting me be me—no more lies, no more pretending.
I swallow, desperately trying to keep the ache in my throat at bay.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
Despite it seeming she may have already figured it out, I can’t bring myself to say the words out loud, the ones that speak my truths. I don’t know how I’m going to tell her. But right now, I know one thing for sure—I don’t want to lose her.
As I walkthrough Great Lakes Stadium, memories engulf me from every direction. Familiar sounds and smells linger in the air the closer I get to the locker room complex where the offices are.
It stirs the anxiety deep inside my gut.
I close my eyes, waiting for what I assume will be bad memories to attack my senses. But instead of blood, sirens, and screams, I’m met with laughter, bright faces, and cheers. It knocks the breath out of me.
They’re not bad memories.
I open my eyes and let out a breath as I head for Briar’s office. I knock twice and wait, but there’s no answer. I knock again and twist the handle open only to find that her office is empty.
“Harper? What are you doing here, son?” Coach Avery asks from behind me.
I glance over at him. “Waiting for a friend,” I say, my voice neutral despite the nervous energy humming through me. “She’s here for an interview for Ink and Print. They moved it here because they have a photo shoot on the ice for the book cover later,” I explain. “I thought I’d come talk to Briar while I wait.”
“Ah, yes, Valerie’s friend is the model,” he says. “Briar’s having a little car trouble. If you’re happy to wait, care to keep an old man company?”
“Yeah, sure,” I say.
He clears his throat. “So, you got any tips for a guy who forgot his wedding anniversary?” he asks as we walk away from his office, heading straight for the ice. “Marla’s punishing me. I was reviewing game tape, and now I’m in the doghouse.”
“Is she making you sleep at the stadium again?” I chuckle, knowing just how fiery his wife can be.
“Worse. Her nephew plays college hockey. NHL potential but his temper is a problem. He’s an agitator who thinks he’s untouchable. Marla wanted me to bring him here to show him what he could lose if he keeps it up.”
“And why is that a punishment?”
“The kid’s a shithead. Flirts with anyone wearing a skirt.”
I bark out a laugh.
“I wrangled some of the guys here today to try and hammer home what’s at stake,” he says as we get to the boards in time to see Hayes, Oliver, Austin, and Rudy step onto the ice.
Apart from the odd appearance and text in the group chat, I’ve pretty much avoided them since the accident, and they’ve let me.
The name Jack coined us with—the sexy six—was now just the fab five for the most gut-wrenching reason. The name rings empty and beyond hollow.
Austin skates up to me with his helmet under his arm, his hair cropped short after cutting off five inches to donate to charity. The new look draws more attention to his defined, sculpted jawline and high cheekbones. The angles of his face are a stark contrast against the softness in his green eyes. A combination of fierce intensity and unspoken warmth. Even without his gear on, he’s unmistakably a goalie—tall, broad, and built solid from years of dropping into the crease and taking shots head-on.
“Glad to see you, man,” he says simply and heads for the goal.
“Yeah, good to see you, Harper.” Rudy taps me with his stick before he skates away.
I’ve always liked Rudy. He was traded to our team a year after my debut and quickly wormed his way into our hearts. Rudy’s a clown, but he’sourclown.
Every time he glides across the ice, it’s clear he’s grateful for the game—and for the life he gets to live now.
