Page 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

Natalie

T he days since that first game in Boston have passed in a blur of roaring crowds, flashing cameras, and sleepless nights nursing aches and injuries.

We’ve barely had time to breathe, let alone reflect on what we've accomplished.

Winning the Boston series four games to one is surreal. The Icehawks look unstoppable at the moment, like every win is meant to be.

Blake’s shoulder held strong, thanks in part to me spending half my waking hours applying ice, heat, massage therapy, and whatever else was needed. Connor was like a man possessed in goal, and Hunter… Well, he coached like his life depended on it.

And now, here we are: Eastern Conference Champions, heading to the Stanley Cup Finals for the first time in Iron Ridge history.

My phone has exploded with messages. Friends, colleagues, half the town, even Hunter’s parents texting me constant encouragement.

My mom? Not a single message.

But for once, her silence doesn't sting as much as it used to. Maybe because, right here, among these people, I've finally found the belonging I've always wanted.

My thoughts drift away as gentle music and soft laughter fill the luxurious spa suite at the Four Seasons Hotel in Boston. Lucy hands me a sparkling flute of champagne, grinning as Sophia sinks deeper into her plush massage chair, letting out a satisfied sigh.

Sophia lifts her champagne, eyes twinkling playfully. "And cheers to the woman who's got our notoriously grumpy coach smiling for the first time ever."

I blush, laughing softly. "Hunter smiling during playoffs? Now that might be stretching the truth."

The spa's ambient music fades into the background as my mind drifts to Hunter's 'intensity' this past week. Every win brought out a different side of him - the poker-faced coach melting away behind closed doors.

Who knew playoff victories could turn Mr. Rules-and-Regulations into such an insatiable beast in the bedroom?

Not that I'm complaining.

Lucy snaps her fingers in front of my face. "Natalie! Your face is getting redder than Connor's playoff beard."

We all laugh, and I feel the stress practically floating from my shoulders.

"You know," Sophia leans forward, lowering her voice conspiratorially, "after the whole media circus with Blake's proposal, I think you two got lucky. Nobody even bats an eye anymore at staff dating players or coaches."

I take another sip of champagne, letting the bubbles tickle my tongue as I consider how much has changed. The rumors about Hunter and me have spread through Iron Ridge faster than a Ryder Scott highlight reel.

She's right.

We've still found ourselves ducking into empty offices or stealing kisses in the parking lot, but it's more out of habit than necessity now. The thrill of sneaking around has morphed into something different - something deeper.

"Though you might want to work on your poker face," Lucy teases, reaching for more champagne. "The way you stare at Hunter during practices? Not subtle at all, missy."

"Says the woman who practically drools every time Connor stretches," I shoot back, making her choke on her drink.

"At least Hunter's stopped pretending to read injury reports when he's actually watching you work," Sophia adds. "Blake caught him yesterday just standing in the doorway while you were treating Ryder's ankle."

I feel my cheeks heat up. "He was not-"

"Oh, he absolutely was!" Mia chimes in, her laugh way too loud. "Logan said Hunter didn't hear a single word of their power play discussion because you bent over to pick up your phone."

The girls dissolve into giggles, and I can't help joining in. It's true - we're not exactly the masters of discretion anymore.

But after watching Blake and Sophia navigate their public relationship, it's refreshing to know that Iron Ridge has bigger things to worry about than who's dating whom.

Like winning the Stanley Cup.

"Trust me," Lucy says, swirling her glass knowingly. "I haven't known Hunter long, but I've never seen him like this. Whatever magic you're working, keep doing it."

"I think the only magic he's responding to is the fact I keep his team on the ice," I reply, shaking my head. "He's obsessed with winning. That's all this is."

"Oh, sweetie," Sophia teases gently. "He's obsessed with more than just winning."

Lucy snickers, shooting me a mischievous glance. "Speaking of which, are you guys actually living together? I hear you've barely been back to your apartment in Iron Ridge lately."

Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I hide my smile behind another sip of champagne.

"Hunter is surprisingly thoughtful. He's an amazing cook, not to mention his house is-" I bring my fingers to my lips and give a big chefs kiss. "A-MAY-ZING!"

Lucy giggles. "But…"

I shrug. "I don't know. I like my apartment. I miss it."

"Well, hopefully you'll be back soon. In the meantime, here… from the boss." Sophia hands me an envelope stamped with the hotel's logo. "Hunter insisted we give you this but only once we were here."

My fingers tremble slightly as I open the thick cream envelope. The girls lean in, their faces eager as I pull out what looks like...

"Oh my god," Lucy squeals. "Those are the premium spa packages!"

Four glossy vouchers for full-body massages at the Four Seasons spa slide into my lap. Not just any massages… these are the works .

Hot stones, aromatherapy, the whole nine yards.

"Turn it over!" Sophia nudges me, bouncing in her chair so much she spills champagne on my shoulder.

I flip the certificate and my breath catches.

There, in Hunter's bold handwriting: "You all deserve to relax. Take care of yourself like you take care of my team."

And at the bottom, a tiny heart with his name scrawled beneath it.

A heart. From Mr. Never-Shows-Emotion.

"Did he just..." Mia gasps dramatically. "Did Hunter Brody actually draw a heart?"

The one inside my chest does a little flip as I trace the shape with my finger. It's slightly lopsided, like he hesitated before committing to it, and somehow that makes it even more perfect.

"Look at her face!" Lucy coos, leaning back and looking at me. "She's gone all soft and mushy!"

"I am not," I protest weakly, but I can feel the ridiculous smile spreading across my face.

"Mmhmm." Sophia raises an eyebrow, clinking her glass against mine. "You know what that sounds like to me?"

"Wedding bells!" they all chorus, dissolving into giggles.

I roll my eyes, but I can't stop staring at that tiny heart. Coming from Hunter, it might as well be a marriage proposal written across the sky.

"Shut up and drink your champagne," I mutter, but I'm still smiling as I carefully tuck the voucher back into its envelope, right next to my heart.

***

Hunter stands casually by the famous swan boats at Boston Public Garden, leaning against the wooden railing with his hands tucked in his pockets.

Warm sunset hues spill through the trees, shining him in golden light and setting my heart fluttering like a teenager.

He spots me approaching and breaks into a rare, genuine smile. My pulse quickens.

“Hey, handsome,” I tease, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Hunter chuckles and pulls me into a gentle kiss before nodding toward the waiting swan boat slowly bobbing under the gentle waves in the river.

“You mentioned wanting to try one of these. I figured we better do it before we head back.”

My chest swells with warmth. “Thank you. And for the spa… Hunter, you made the girls’ whole week. And they nearly lost it over the little heart you drew.”

He clears his throat, cheeks reddening slightly. “Yeah, well… guess you bring out the worst in me.”

“Hmm, more like the best,” I correct him gently, earning another rare smile that softens his features.

We step onto the boat, Hunter steadying me with a firm hand on my waist as I settle onto the bench. The gentle sway of the water carries us away from the shoreline, leaving the busy park behind. He drapes an arm casually around my shoulder, pulling me close against him.

“Excited to go home tomorrow?” he asks softly.

“Yeah, I am actually,” I admit, leaning into him. “Though I’m going to miss all of this… especially your parents.”

He chuckles, the vibrations rumbling through his chest. “Trust me, they’ll find excuses to visit. Dad said Mom’s already planning our wedding and naming future grandchildren.”

My laugh echoes lightly over the pond. “She’s optimistic.”

“Yeah, she is,” Hunter murmurs, pressing his lips to my temple. “Speaking of Iron Ridge… I’ve got a surprise waiting for you back home.”

“Oh?” I perk up immediately, pulling back to search his face. “What kind of surprise?”

Hunter’s eyes sparkle mischievously. “The kind I’m not telling you until we get home.”

I bat my lashes dramatically. “Oh! Come on, Hunter. Pretty please?”

I double down and put on my best 'adorable' pout.

“Nice try,” he chuckles, brushing my hair behind my ear. “But no.”

“What if I bribe it out of you?” I whisper, lips grazing his jawline softly. 'What do you say… two blow jobs tonight?"

He inhales sharply. "Nat—"

"Two blow jobs and we can play 'choose your own entrance'?"

"Natalie—" He goes to say no, but then frowns and gives me a weird look. "Wait. What?"

"Choose your own entrance. You know… front or back."

A low growl leaves his throat and I see the physical restraint it takes for him to claw back any images currently swarming his mind.

“Tempting, Nat, but fuck… Can't believe I'm saying this, but it’s still a no.”

I sigh dramatically, feigning annoyance even as happiness dances in my chest. “Fine. Keep your secrets.”

He smiles warmly and squeezes me tight. "Do we still get to play your game?"

I shake my head, and he tickles me until he's got me pinned in the wobble of the boat. He tilts my chin up to kiss me, slow and sweet, lingering until the boat docks again.

Reluctantly, we step onto solid ground.

My heart feels lighter than air as the sky turns dark, but Hunter's phone buzzes insistently, interrupting our moment.

I watch as Hunter glances at the screen, lips thinning slightly before he quickly pockets it.

“Everything okay?” I ask quietly, searching his eyes.

“Yeah,” he replies, the smile returning but a bit forced. “Just hockey stuff. Let’s get to dinner. We’re late.”

By the time we get to the team dinner, the historic restaurant buzzes with energy and laughter, the air charged with excitement from clinching our spot in the Stanley Cup Finals.

Hunter’s hand rests possessively on the small of my back as we navigate the crowded private dining room toward our seats.

But as the appetizers appear, Hunter’s phone buzzes again. He frowns, rising from his seat and squeezing my hand apologetically.

“Sorry, I’ve got to take this.”

I watch him disappear, unease prickling once more beneath my skin. Across the table, Connor leans in toward Blake, voice hushed but still audible.

“You hear about Coach and Team USA?”

Blake nods, his eyes serious. “Yeah. Wes Callahan mentioned it in the Vegas presser after they clinched their spot. Hunter’s at the top of the list, but Wes wants it too.”

Team USA? The Olympic coach?!

My pulse quickens, panic simmering.

Olympic coaching?

Hunter hasn’t mentioned anything like that. But then again, he’s been distracted lately, taking more calls than usual. I'd just put it down to regular media excitement and interviews that come hand in hand with leading a team to the Finals.

Hunter returns moments later, sliding into his seat beside me with a tight, forced smile.

“You okay?” I ask softly, trying to shove my emotions down my throat with a big gulp of white wine.

"Yeah, fine. Just…" He pauses, like he was about to say something but decided not to. "Just Wes from Vegas. They clinched their spot tonight. He, uh... called to wish us luck."

I nod slowly, swallowing down the words burning to spill out. My fingers twist anxiously beneath the tablecloth.

The rest of dinner passes in a blur. Toasts are made, congratulations exchanged, but my mind churns. Fear seeps in, cracking the happiness I’d been feeling all evening. All week. All damn month.

Hunter reaches for my hand, his thumb stroking gently over my knuckles, anchoring me even as questions scream inside my head.

As dinner ends and people begin filtering out, Hunter guides me toward our waiting car. He’s silent the whole drive back to the hotel to collect our cases, his hand tight on mine, but his thoughts obviously elsewhere.

I glance out the window as we head to the airport, Boston's city lights blurring together as one.

The Icehawks are on the verge of something huge. The Finals, possibly a championship.

But something tells me Hunter is on the verge of something even bigger.

Something that could change everything.

And just as I finally thought I’d found everything I ever dreamed of…

Love, family, belonging…

I realize it could slip away all over again.