My mind spins as we start gathering coats, the energy in the box shifting from celebration to movement. The boys are still buzzing, practically bouncing off the walls, their voices overlapping in excited bursts about the game. There is absolutely no way they’re sleeping anytime soon.
“Are you coming to Kilting Around?” Gabby asks, tugging on her jacket. Kate lifts a brow, glancing between us. “It’s a Scottish pub we usually hit after a game,” Gabby explains. “Good place to wind down.”
I shake my head, already reaching for the boys’ coats. “I need to get them home.”
“Go, have fun,” Grant says, waving a dismissive hand. “Elena and I will take the boys.”
I blink, caught off guard. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” Elena adds with a smile. “We’ll get them home safely.”
Home.
“They’re not going home,” I clarify. I feel it immediately—Kate’s eyes on me. Searching. “They’re going to Tuck’s.” Why do I suddenly feel breathless?
“Well, that’s what I meant,” Grant says with a laugh.
God, everyone is thinking it…
Tuck’s.
Home.
Like they’re interchangeable, and truthfully it’s what I want.
That thought once again has me asking myself what I’m going to do about that?
As that question presses in, I turn to Mom. “What about your allergies?” I ask.
“Oh, we’ll just drop them off and make sure they get safely inside.” She pulls me into a hug, and I sink into it. When she pulls back, there’s that look on her face. That knowing look. Followed by a cheeky grin that says she knows exactly what she’s doing.
Yeah, I’m pretty sure—despite her denying it—Marbles was a ploy to get Tuck and me together. I should be mad, but I’m not. In fact, I should probably thank her.
I nod. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
“We’re sure,” Grant says, already ushering me toward the door. “Now get out there before Tuck goes without you.”
“I’m going, I’m going,” I laugh, letting myself be pushed along with the tide of fans. I grab my phone and shoot Tuck a message letting him know that Kate and I are headed to the pub.
Outside, the cold hits immediately, and the crowd spills out around us, a sea of jerseys and voices and flashing phones. I pull my coat tighter around me, my breath fogging in the night air as I guide Kate toward my car, which thankfully I got back. A little worry rushes in. Is there any reason to stay at Tuck’s now that I have my car back? Should I go, and give him private time with his sister?
What does Tuck want?
I think it’s well past time I found out.
The crowd gathers near the exit where the players come out, anticipation buzzing through the air. People shift, stretch, angle their phones, waiting. And I know what’s coming.
Tuck will get caught up in it—smiles, selfies, autographs. Pretty girls leaning in a little too close, laughing a little too loudly, hanging on every word. It’s part of the life. Part of his life.
I understand it.
I do.
And I remind myself—again—Tuck is not Lucian. Tuck shows up. Consistently. Quietly. Fully. On his team he plays the part that’s expected of him—just like Nicklas, just like all of them—but beneath the jerseys, beneath the noise and the spotlight…they’re real.
We stand there a moment longer, waiting for Tuck. Beside me, Kate shifts, her presence quiet but her gaze is locked on me. “You know,” she says, her voice cutting gently through the noise, “He’s going to look for you first.”
My heart stutters. “You think so?”
