“GRAM,” I choke.
Beside her, Thelma takes a peaceful sip of coffee. “She’s not wrong.”
Daltyn nearly dies. He coughs violently while grabbing the island for support.
I’m laughing too hard to save him.
This is our life now.
Later,after Gram wanders off to aggressively reorganize the pantry “because your snack placement lacks sensuality,”Thelma quietly watches Daltyn from across the island. Something soft crosses her expression.
“Haven’t seen you this happy... well, ever.”
The room goes still.
Daltyn pauses mid-sip. His eyes flick toward her briefly, then away... before meeting mine.
Because I think the truth is, I don’t think he’s ever been truly happy.
Until now.
And somehow, the fact that a twenty-three-year-old goalie has never been happy makes my chest ache.
Especially because it’s him.
The goalie with a heart of gold.
That night,leaves steadily shake in the breeze outside the cabin windows while I lie curled against Daltyn on the couch beneath a blanket.
One of his hands drifts lazily along my arm while the TV plays something neither of us is really watching.
His body feels loose against mine. Relaxed. Grounded.
He’s not drowning or fighting himself.
Just… here.
Truly present.
Warmth fills my chest as I tilt my head to look at him.
“So,” I say softly. “Big week ahead.”
Daltyn hums quietly.
“Practice all week. Media Thursday.” He presses a kiss against my forehead. “Opening game Saturday night.”
Excitement flickers through me. “My first official hockeygirlfriend appearance?”
His mouth twitches. “You already survived the skating portion of the job.”
I groan. “Barely.”
He chuckles. “You screamed every time you moved.”
“In my defense, ice is slippery.”
A full laugh escapes him.
