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Chapter

Twenty-Six

LEXIE

" I can't believe we're actually here," Jessica whispers, gripping my arm so tightly I'll probably have finger-shaped bruises tomorrow. "Like, actually here. In the VIP box. At a Grizzlies game!"

I laugh, gently prying her fingers loose. "You've mentioned that. About twelve times now."

"Because it bears repeating!" She bounces on her toes, peering over the railing at the ice below where players are warming up. "Luke is going to lose his mind when he gets back from the bathroom. He's probably texting everyone he's ever met."

"Probably," I agree, adjusting the hem of my sweater.

It's a deep navy blue with the Grizzlies logo emblazoned across the front, except I couldn't leave well enough alone.

I bought a standard sweater from the team store, then spent two nights carefully deconstructing and rebuilding it with better materials, adding subtle gold accents and reshaping it to actually fit a woman's body instead of hanging like a potato sack.

The result is pretty great, if I do say so myself. Professional enough to pass for official merchandise at first glance, but with enough personal touches that it's uniquely mine.

My life has gotten weird.

And when life gets weird, I do the one thing that makes me feel in control. I craft. Pretty sure I could knit my way out of a nervous breakdown at this point, or at least have comfy grippy socks to wear to the hospital.

"There he is!" Jessica points excitedly at the ice. "Number forty-seven. That's your man!"

I follow her finger to where Darren is skating powerful laps around the rink, his movements fluid and perfectly executed despite his size. Even from this distance, he's magnetic. The way he carries himself, the confidence in every stride.

"He's not 'my man,'" I protest weakly, though my heart does a little flip when he glances up toward the VIP boxes. Can he see me from down there? Does he know I came?

“Please,” Jessica scoffs. “He spent half an hour pretending to be interested in Taylor's rock collection and then took you home and rocked your world. He's your man.”

"Jessica!" I hiss, heat rushing to my face as I glance around to make sure no one overheard. The VIP box is relatively private, but there are still other guests mingling around the catered buffet and open bar nearby.

"What? I'm just stating facts." She grins, unrepentant. "Besides, you're literally wearing his number."

I glance down at my sweater, where I've subtly incorporated the number 47 into the design. It's not obvious unless you're looking for it, but it's there.

"It's just a show of support," I mutter, though we both know it's more than that. "And I'm pretty sure he was genuinely interested in the rock collection."

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Jessica's knowing smirk is interrupted by Luke's return, his face flushed with excitement.

"You will not believe who I just met in the bathroom," he announces, practically vibrating. "Jax Lawson. The captain. In the flesh. Washing his hands right next to me!"

Jessica laughs, patting his arm. "Breathe, honey. Did you actually speak to him?"

"I tried," Luke admits sheepishly. "But all that came out was 'good luck tonight' and then I think I made a weird noise."

"Smooth," Jessica teases.

"He said thanks and that he hoped we enjoyed the game," Luke continues, undeterred by his wife's teasing. "And then he asked if I was with Lexie Goodwin's party, and when I said yes, he smiled and said they were glad we could make it."

I blink, surprised. "He asked about me specifically?"

"By name," Luke confirms, looking at me like I just became a rockstar. "Just how well do you know these guys?"

Before I can formulate a response that doesn't involve the phrases "scent match" or "dining table sex," a staff member appears with a tray of champagne flutes.

"Compliments of the team," she says with a professional smile. "The game will begin in about ten minutes. Please enjoy the refreshments, and let me know if you need anything else."

We each take a glass, and I use the moment to gather my thoughts. How do I explain my relationship with the Grizzlies to my brother-in-law without sounding completely insane?

"Lexie's officially dating Darren Malloy," Jessica supplies helpfully, ignoring my glare. "And by extension, sort of the whole team."

Luke chokes on his champagne. "The whole team?" he sputters, eyes watering. "Like, all of them?"

"Not the whole team," I clarify quickly. "Just... his pack."

"His pack," Luke repeats slowly. "As in, Malloy, Lawson, Copeland, Vinogradov, and McKinney? That pack? The Core Five ?"

I nod, suddenly finding my champagne absolutely fascinating. It's news to me they had an official name.

"Holy shit." Luke collapses into one of the plush seats, staring at me like I've just announced I'm secretly royalty. "That's... wow. I thought it was just Darren. How did that even happen?"

"It's complicated," I say, which might be the understatement of the century.

"And new," Jessica adds, coming to my rescue. "Very new. So maybe cool it with the third degree, honey?"

Luke holds up his hands in surrender. "Wow. Right, sorry. It's just... wow. The Core Five. That's like... wow."

"You said 'wow' three times," Jessica points out dryly.

"Because it's wow-worthy!" Luke defends, then turns to me with a more controlled expression. "But seriously, that's great, Lexie. They seem like good guys. From what I've read. And seen. On TV."

I can't help but laugh at his earnest attempt to be supportive while clearly freaking out internally. "They are good guys," I assure him.

The conversation is mercifully interrupted by the announcement of the starting lineups. The lights dim, and spotlights sweep across the ice as the arena erupts in cheers. The energy is electric, thousands of fans on their feet as the Grizzlies skate out one by one.

I find myself holding my breath when they announce Darren's name, watching as he glides onto the ice with that quiet intensity that first drew me to him. He looks powerful in his gear, a force to be reckoned with despite the omega designation that supposedly should make him less imposing.

As if Darren Malloy could ever be anything but formidable.

The game itself is a blur of speed and skill that I can barely follow.

Luke tries to explain the finer points—offsides, icing, power plays—but most of it goes over my head.

I focus instead on watching Darren, the way he positions himself on the ice, the skilled movements as he blocks shots and clears the puck.

"He's really good," I murmur during a break in play.

"One of the best defensemen in the league," Luke agrees, his initial starstruck awkwardness giving way to genuine enthusiasm as he explains Darren's stats and accomplishments.

“He more than makes up for his lack of alpha aggression with technique and positioning. Always in the right place at the right time.”

I try not to consider how applicable those words are to Darren's skill off the ice as well. Always in the right place at the right time, indeed.

The Grizzlies score first, Zayn dancing through defenders to flip the puck over the goalie's shoulder, and the arena erupts. I find myself on my feet, cheering along with Jessica and Luke, caught up in the collective joy of the moment.

"That was beautiful!" Luke shouts over the noise. "Did you see that move? The way he deked around that last defender?"

I nod, though honestly, it happened so fast I barely registered it.

What I did see was the way Zayn immediately turned to bump gloves with Darren, who had started the play with a perfect pass.

The easy camaraderie between them, even if it doesn't always translate to off the ice, the seamless teamwork that speaks to years of playing together.

The opposing team, the Tigers, according to the scoreboard, tie it up in the second period, and the mood in the arena shifts. I find myself genuinely invested in the outcome, gasping when Darren takes a hard hit along the boards, exhaling in relief when he pops right back up and continues playing.

"He's tough," Luke comments, noticing my reaction. "Always has been. That's why they call him 'The Brick.'"

The third period is a nail-biter. Tied 1-1 with minutes ticking down, both teams pushing for the go-ahead goal, Luke explains excitedly. The Grizzlies have several close chances. Dmitri rings one off the post, Jax just misses on a rebound, but nothing finds the back of the net.

Until Aidan makes a spectacular save at one end, and the puck quickly transitions up ice. Darren to Jax to Zayn, back to Jax, who fires a shot that the Tigers' goalie stops but can't control. Then it pops out to Dmitri, who scores it with five minutes left on the clock.

The arena explodes. Jessica screams in my ear, Luke pumps his fist and high-fives a stranger next to him, and I'm jumping up and down like I've been a hockey fan my entire life instead of for approximately two hours.

The final minutes are excruciating. The Tigers pull their goalie for an extra attacker, peppering Aidan with shots. One heart-stopping scramble in front of the net has me clutching Jessica's arm so tightly she winces, but somehow the puck stays out.

When the final horn sounds, the Grizzlies' 2-1 victory secured, the relief and joy in the arena is audible. And almost deafening. Players pour off the bench to mob Aidan, helmets and gloves flying as they celebrate.

"That was amazing," I breathe, surprised by how emotionally invested I've become in such a short time. "I had no idea it was so intense."

"Welcome to hockey," Luke grins, clapping me on the shoulder. "They were something else tonight, though. I've never seen them all so on fire, working together like that."

"Maybe they were trying to impress someone," Jessica says pointedly, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes.

I blush, sure she's just reading into things. "Yeah, right."