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Jake takes off like a rocket, his laughter echoing through the hallway. I’m trailing behind them, my heart warming at how effortlessly Beck slides into Jake’s world. He doesn’t just tolerate my son—he genuinely enjoys spending time with him.

And Jake? He’s absolutely smitten.

“Go, Jake!” I cheer, but my eyes stay on Beck.

He’s all heart and warmth around Jake—encouraging, patient, and effortlessly charming. He slows down just enough to let Jake cross the invisible finish line first, pumping his fists like Jake just scored the winning goal in the Stanley Cup.

“You got me!” Beck pants, pretending to be out of breath.

Jake beams, his cheeks flushed with excitement. “I beat Beck Hayes!”

Beck laughs, crouching down to high-five Jake. “You’re faster than some of the guys on my line.”

Jake’s grin is so wide it could light up the entire arena. But I can’t take my eyes off Beck.

“Abby, you okay?” Beck’s voice snaps me out of my reverie. I blink, realizing I’ve been staring at him way too long.Those broad shoulders, muscled arms, athletic build. That chiseled jawline. That scruffy hair.

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah.” I clear my throat, but my heart’s pounding. “Just… thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” His tone is gentle, but his eyes—those intense, unreadable eyes—are locked on mine.

You. Us. The fact that I can’t stop imagining what it would feel like to let you in.

I manage a weak smile. “Just… Jake’s lucky, that’s all.”

Beck’s brow furrows, but before he can press, Jake interrupts.

“Mom! Did you see? I won!”

I latch onto the distraction like a lifeline, flashing a bright smile at Jake. “I saw, sweetheart! You were amazing.”

But Beck isn’t fooled. His gaze lingers on me, a silent question hanging between us. I look away before I say something I can’t take back.

The stick room is just as fascinating as Jake remembers. He’s practically vibrating with excitement as Beck explains the different types of sticks and how players customize them.

“See this curve here?” Beck shows Jake a stick with a slight bend in the blade. “That’s what gives me a wicked backhand.”

Jake’s eyes go wide. “Whoa. Can I try?”

Beck grins. “Next time we’re on the ice.”

Jake looks like Beck just promised him a lifetime supply of ice cream.

I lean against the wall, my arms crossed, watching them. Jake’s admiration for Beck is so pure, so innocent. And Beck…

He’s all in. No walls. No hesitation.

It’s like he’s already claimed a space in Jake’s world—and he fits there perfectly.

“Abby?”

Beck’s voice is softer now, and when I meet his gaze, yet again the air between us shifts.

He’s watching me like he sees through every defense I’ve built. Like he knows exactly what I’m feeling but is waiting for me to admit it.

“You’re amazing with him,” I whisper.

Beck’s eyes soften. “Jake’s a great kid.”