Page 101 of Total Shutdown

He narrows his eyes and squeezes his lips together. “Don’t start, Mackenzie.”

“I think she cheated,” Ezra speculatively adds.

“Definitely,” Sawyer agrees.

“Highlights from your game against Boston are on,” Dom shouts across at us.

Sawyer swivels around in his chair as Ezra leaves the table and makes his way over to join Alyssa and Dom on the couch, picking up a Harley-Davidson model kit they bought him. His gifts this year are following a trend.

“Do you want your gift now or later?” Sawyer asks me, packing the board game away. The mischievous smile on his face tells me whatever he got probably isn’t suitable to be opened in company.

Funny, because neither is the gift I got him.

“Maybe in a while,” I say, resting my elbows on the table and winking.

When he winks back, I feel its effects all the way to my toes. I don’t think there will ever be a time when he doesn’t make me feel sixteen again.

Sawyer turns to watch the highlights but quickly looks away, wincing.

“What’s up?” I ask, my mood shifting from giddy to concerned.

When he closes the lid on the Monopoly box, I see something flash in his eyes that I don’t like. I can’t decipher it exactly, but it makes me want to climb across the table and pull the feeling out of him.

He motions to the highlights still playing on the TV. “Just that power play in the third. A couple of years ago, I wouldn’t have let their winger turn me over the way he did. I felt a length behind and was powerless to catch up.” He runs a rough hand through his hair, tattooed forearms flexing.

“You look to be in pretty good shape to me,” I jest, desperate to lighten his mood.

He just shrugs—one that, for once, isn’t playful or mocking me. “I guess I can’t help my mind as it drifts to thoughts of how much longer I have in the game, you know?” His green eyes find me. “Or how much longer I can go before I’m having serious talks with Coach and the GM about where the C should end up.”

“You don’t want to be captain anymore?”

He sighs, chewing on his bottom lip. “I’m not ready to give it up yet, but I don’t want to be that player who retires, still wearing the C. I think I want to play more of a mentor role if I can.”

I reach across the table, taking his hand in mine, the roughness of his palm a reminder of how hard this guy works. “You actually aren’t that old—you do know that, right?”

He chuckles and brushes his thumb across the top of my hand. “I am, Baby Girl. I’ll be thirty-six next year. You bagged yourself a pensioner,” he jokes.

“Do you feel ready to hang up your skates?” I feel like I can relate to him way more than the average person. Sure, I retired from motocross for different reasons, but I still had to make the call that was right for me and kiss goodbye to an all-encompassing lifestyle.

He twists his lips to the side, tipping his head over to look at Ezra, who continues to work on his bike model. “Not right now, but time flies. I remember when I was feeding him in the middle of the night, and now he’s in middle school and growing up fast. Hockey takes me away from him more than I’d like. More than I should be.”

“Y-you know you have me too now though, right?”

He squeezes my hand, so much warmth and meaning in his eyes. “I’ve waited a long-ass time for you to say that.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get too comfortable with softer Collins. I have to keep you on your toes.”

In my peripheral vision, I see Ezra fighting back a yawn. It’s been a long day, like most Christmases are.

I tip my head toward the window behind me. “I think Ezra’s dragging.”

We both stare at each other for a few beats.

“Come home with me?” he asks—four words I’ve rejected way more than I ever wanted to.

I run my tongue across my bottom lip, his gift already playing out in my mind. “I don’t think I’d want to be anywhere else.”

CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN