Page 52

Chapter

Thirty-Two

LEXIE

I check the address on my phone again, confirming it matches the building in front of me. It's a sleek, modern structure in the heart of downtown, all glass and steel with a stylish lobby. Not the type of place I'd normally have any business being in.

Especially not at 10 AM on a weekday, when I should be packing orders.

Is this where the pack's next extravagant gift is waiting? After flowers and pastries and who knows what else, I'm almost afraid to find out what they've come up with now.

I push through the revolving door into a lobby with polished marble floors and a security desk. The guard looks up as I approach.

"I'm here to meet someone," I say, suddenly feeling underdressed in my jeans and sweater. "Third floor, Suite 317? The name should be under Lawson or McKinney."

The guard checks his screen, nodding. "Yes, Ms. Goodwin? They're expecting you. Elevators are to your right."

So they've been here awhile already. My curiosity deepens as I ride up to the third floor. The elevator doors open to a hallway lined with office doors, sleek nameplates beside each one. I follow the numbers until I reach 317.

There's no nameplate yet, just the suite number on a frosted glass door. I take a deep breath, knock once, and push it open when I hear Jax's voice call, "Come in!"

I step inside and freeze, taking in the scene.

It's a large, open space with high ceilings and windows that flood the room with natural light.

The walls are a soft cream color, and the hardwood floors gleam under the sunlight.

There's a desk pushed against one wall, a couple of clothing racks in the corner, and what looks like a photography setup near the windows.

And there are five hockey players standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, all looking strangely nervous.

"Surprise?" Aidan says, his voice lifting into a question at the end, his hands fidgeting at his sides.

Taking everything in, I try to make sense of what I'm seeing. "Oh, it's... an empty office?"

The men look at one another, and I realize I've missed something.

"Not exactly empty," Darren explains, stepping forward. "We brought in some basic furniture, but we figured you'd want to set the rest up yourself."

"Set it up?" I repeat, still confused.

"Your office," Jax clarifies, his usual confidence slightly tempered with what appears to be genuine nervousness. "Or studio, I guess would be more accurate. For your business."

My business? I stare at them, looking from one face to another, waiting for the punchline.

"If you'll accept it," Dmitri adds, his hands clasped behind his back.

The silence stretches as my brain tries to catch up. "Wait, are you serious? This is... for me?"

Zayn shrugs, aiming for casual but not quite hitting it. "Your apartment was overflowing, partly because of us. Seemed logical."

Walking further into the space, I turn in a slow circle to take it all in. Now I notice other details. A large cutting table against the far wall, industrial clothing racks, a professional steamer, and even a small photography setup for product shots. They've considered everything.

"This is..." I trail off, genuinely speechless. "I can't accept this. It's too much."

"Why not?" Aidan asks, looking like a hurt puppy.

"Because this place must cost a fortune," I explain, gesturing at the sleek space around us. "Downtown real estate like this? There's no way my business can afford something like this. Not yet, anyway."

The five of them exchange glances, a silent communication passing between them.

"Actually," Jax says, stepping forward, "we wanted to give it to you. As a gift."

My eyes widen. "A gift? You can't be serious."

"We are," Darren insists. "We wanted to do this for you."

"You've mentioned how crowded your apartment has become," Dmitri adds. "How difficult it is to work efficiently in such a small space."

"And we might have contributed to that problem," Zayn says with a pointed glance at Aidan, "with all the flowers. And baked goods."

I shake my head, overwhelmed by their generosity but knowing I can't possibly accept something so extravagant. "I appreciate the thought, really, I do, but I can't let you just... buy me an office space. That's way too much."

"We figured you might say that," Jax says with a knowing smile. "So we made sure the lease terms were reasonable."

"Extremely reasonable," Aidan adds eagerly. "Like, suspiciously reasonable."

"We got a great deal through some connections," Jax continues, shooting Aidan a look. "The building owner is a hockey fan. We used that to our advantage."

"Seriously?" I ask, still stunned. "So I could just take over the lease?"

"That was our backup plan," Darren explains, watching me carefully. "We wanted to give it to you outright, but we knew you might be uncomfortable accepting something like that at this stage."

"The lease is month-to-month," Jax explains, "so there's no long-term commitment if it doesn't work out. And the rate is locked in for three years."

My hand runs along the edge of the cutting table as I consider their offer.

The space is stunning, exactly what I would have picked if money were no object.

Tall ceilings for displaying hanging pieces.

Natural light for photography. Enough room to actually move around while working instead of climbing over inventory in my apartment.

"And it's only a few blocks from the arena," Darren points out. "So when we have home games..."

He doesn't finish the thought, but I get it. I could see them more easily. Drop by practices. Be part of their world while still having my own professional space. Even more than the thoughtfulness of this space, the fact that they want to see me is what touches me the most.

"Can I look around?" I ask, still stunned.

"It's your space," Jax says simply, grinning. "If you want it."

Starting to explore in earnest, I imagine how I would use each area.

The main workspace with the cutting table.

A small photography corner for product shots.

A shipping station with proper shelving instead of stacks on my dining table.

There's even a tiny kitchenette and a bathroom with a shower, practical for long workdays.

"This is kind of incredible," I murmur, running my fingers along a windowsill. "There are never spaces available in this area. I've searched before."

"Like Jax said, we pulled some strings," Zayn admits, watching me with those intense dark eyes.

Every detail has been considered. Made as risk-free as possible. A gift that's both extravagant and practical at the same time.

"I don't know what to say," I admit, turning to face them all. Five men still standing awkwardly in the center of the room, looking so hopeful it makes my chest ache.

Aidan shifts his weight, looking like he might explode if I don't give an answer soon.

"Do you like it? I know it's a lot, but we all pitched in ideas.

Zayn found the space, and Jax handled the lease negotiation, and Dmitri picked the cutting table because he said it had to be the right height so it wouldn't hurt your back, and I just thought?—"

"It's the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me," I cut in, stopping his adorable rambling. My voice catches on the words, emotion tightening my throat. "I love it."

The collective relief that washes over their faces is almost comical. Aidan's shoulders drop, his stiffness visibly melting away. They all look like I've just given them a gift.

"You deserve a lot more than that," Darren says, closing the distance between us to take my hands in his.

"Why are you all so nervous?" I ask, squeezing his hands. "Did you think I wouldn't like it?"

The men exchange quick looks again.

"We weren't sure if you'd think it was too much," Jax admits. "Too presumptuous."

"Or that we were trying to control your business," Aidan adds.

"Or that you'd refuse the gift outright and also hate the lease idea," Zayn says.

Surveying the space again— my space—a swell of gratitude washes over me. It’s so intense, it's almost overwhelming. They didn't just buy me something expensive. They created a solution to a real problem in my life, one that supports my independence rather than diminishing it.

"It is too much," I say finally, wiping at a traitorous tear that escapes down my cheek. "But it's incredible. And I appreciate that you understood I might not be comfortable with a gift this expensive. The lease is perfect."

Aidan looks alarmed at my tears. "Are those happy tears or sad tears? I can never tell the difference."

"Happy," I assure him with a watery laugh. "Definitely happy."

"Would now be a good time to show her the storage room?" Dmitri asks, nodding toward a door I hadn't noticed yet.

Jax nods, his smile growing. "I think she's ready."

"There's more?" I ask, unable to imagine what else they could have possibly thought of.

Darren leads me to the door, his hand warm against the small of my back. "Just a small addition."

The "storage room" turns out to be a generous secondary space, already fitted with industrial shelving units perfect for inventory organization. But what catches my breath is the far corner. They've set up a cozy sitting area with a comfortable couch, a small coffee table, and a mini-fridge.

"For when you're working late," Jax explains. "Or when you want any of us to visit without distracting you from your work."

"Though we make no promises about the distraction part," Zayn adds with a smirk.

I'm speechless. It's not just a workspace. It's a haven. Somewhere I can build my business, create my designs, and still have moments of connection with them. The perfect balance of independence and togetherness.

"How did you know?" I ask, turning to face them all. "How did you know exactly what I needed?"

"We pay attention," Dmitri says simply.

"We've seen how hard you work," Darren adds. "How your apartment has become overrun with inventory. And, uh, our gifts. Sorry about that."

"So we did something about it," Zayn concludes with a shrug, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

Maybe to them, it is. This is how they operate, five different men with five different approaches, all working together toward a common goal. In hockey, it's winning games. With me, it's making sure I have what I need to thrive.

Moving around the storage room, my fingers run along the shelving units, imagining them filled with neatly organized inventory. No more stacks of sweaters threatening to topple over. No more shipping supplies cluttering every surface. Space to breathe. Space to create.

"When can I move in?" I ask, turning back to them with a smile I can't contain.

"Today, if you want," Jax says. "The lease started yesterday."

"We can help you move your inventory," Dmitri offers. "We have a team day off tomorrow."

"And I can set up your computer and equipment," Aidan adds enthusiastically. "I'm good with tech stuff."

Looking at these five extraordinary, thoughtful, overwhelming men, something clicks into place inside me. An emotion that feels a lot like belonging.

"Thank you," I say again, the words inadequate for the emotions swirling inside me. "Not just for the space, but for... seeing me. For understanding what I need."

"Always," Darren says softly, and I can see in his eyes that he means it.

I cross the room to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing my face against his chest. His arms come around me automatically, solid and secure.

One by one, the others join us, until I'm surrounded in a group embrace that should feel claustrophobic but instead feels like the safest place I've ever been.

As we stand there, tangled together in the morning light of my new studio, I realize something that should terrify me but somehow doesn't.

I'm falling for them. All of them, in different ways, for different reasons.

And for once, I'm not afraid.