Page 23

Chapter twenty-three

~LIVIA~

I arrive at the Panthers’ headquarters, heart pounding like a drum solo at a rock concert. I mean, yesterday, Christina called me out of the blue, telling me to come to the office, but she didn’t bother explaining why. That’s not exactly a confidence booster. I’ve been in the process of clearing out my place, so a call was the last thing I expected unless there are more documents to be signed, where they hand me my final pink slip along with a don’t let the door hit you on the way out. Fun, right?

As I step through the glass doors, I take a deep breath. I’ve already cried enough this past week. Surprisingly, losing my job hasn’t been as painful as the fallout with Rowan. I tense up at the thought of him. Half of me dreads the possibility of running into him, the other half…I shut it up.

I shuffle through the lobby, my shoes squeaking on the polished floor, and just as I’m mentally preparing myself for the worst, I see Ares. He’s just as intimidating as ever, standing like the Grim Reaper in his black workout clothes, all brooding and intense. It’s like he walked straight out of a novel where the hero has a mysterious past and a penchant for dark corners. Despite all of this, he’s always been kind to me.

“Hey, Ares.” I raise my hand to greet him for, quite possibly, the last time in my life. As I approach, he gives me that small, rare smile like a sunrise breaking through a stormy sky.

“Finally,” he says, his voice deep and gravelly, “I need you to come with me.”

Ares has never been a man of a lot of words. He gets straight to the point and doesn’t care if you like it or not. Yet, there’s no arrogance about him, no ego. Everything about him is as genuine as it is dark.

“Uh, did Christina not trust me to get to the office on my own now that I’m fired?” I raise an eyebrow, the gears in my head turning.

“Just follow me, Livia.” Ares chuckles, the sound low and rumbling, and I see a glint of amusement in his eyes. His smile is a rare sight to see, and twice in a single day? He probably fell on the ice and hit his head.

“Okay?” I trail after him, curious and confused. What’s happening? The anticipation is like waiting for a roller coaster to drop. As he leads me through the hallways, my mind races. Maybe they’re going to surprise me with a sad goodbye cake and a “best of luck out there” banner.

But then, instead of turning toward Christina’s office, Ares takes me to the main rink. The moment we step inside, I freeze, my jaw dropping. What I see takes my breath away.

The entire team is gathered, and the rink is decked out like a festive carnival.

“Oh my god,” I whisper, my breath visible in the cold. “That’s not a goodbye cake.”

“Certainly isn’t,” Ares agrees, and I feel his large hand on my shoulder, prompting me to go further inside.

Banners hang from the rafters, bright and bold, declaring things like “We Love You, Livia!” and “You’re Not Going Anywhere!” My heart swells, and I feel my cheeks heat up.

What is happening?

I look to Ares, who gives me that knowing smile again.

“Ares, what is all this?” I manage to croak out, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Welcome back,” he says, his tone serious but with a hint of warmth.

My heart races, caught somewhere between disbelief and raw joy. The rink is transformed into a celebration, the air thick with balloons, confetti, and the beaming faces of the team.

“But I was fired!” I blurt out, turning to face him. “What do you mean, welcome back?”

“Rowan will explain.” He shrugs, his expression calm but inscrutable.

“No, Ares.” I shake my head, taking a step back. My stomach churns at the mention of his name.

“Please,” Ares stops me, his hand still on my shoulder, “just hear him out. Then you can decide what to do.” He’s towering over me like a dark cloud, but his presence is one of warmth. Despite doing a couple of interviews with him and spending some time together, he’s still an enigma I can’t solve. But he’s real, and that’s enough for me to know there’s a good man behind those icy-blue eyes.

I take a deep breath and scan the rink, searching for Rowan, my heart thumping a warning in my chest. What if this is all just a setup by him, a cruel joke to twist the knife deeper?

Then I see him emerge, cutting through the crowd like he’s striding onto a battlefield. Rowan’s intense gaze locks onto mine, and suddenly, the noise fades, leaving just us in a storm of unresolved feelings. He walks out of the rink and heads straight toward me. I turn, but Ares is gone, already walking down toward the rest of the guys.

“Livia,” Rowan starts, his voice low. There’s relief on his face like he’s just happy to see me. He reaches for me as he approaches, and I take a step back.

“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice shaky and unsure. The sight of him is too much. But there’s something different about him, like this week was as hard for him as it was for me.

“I’m so sorry, hellcat,” he replies, stepping closer. I take another step back, wrapping my arms around myself. I’ve missed him so much. God, how I’ve missed him. My entire being screams at me to run to him, to wrap my hands around him and let it all out. But I can’t.

“I have nothing to say to you, Rowan,” I say, shaking my head.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“Then, please listen,” he says, taking another step forward. There’s no smirk, no cocky bravado, just Rowan. “First, I want to welcome you back.”

“I was fired, Rowan.” I cross my arms, half to protect myself, half in disbelief. “I need to go to Christina. If this is some sick joke—”

“I messed up,” he interrupts, his green eyes boring into mine. “I was a fucking coward. I thought pushing you out would be easier than facing the shit you made me confront. I thought if I made you the bad guy, it would save me from feeling anything.” His voice sharpens, and I can hear the anger he has for himself beneath the words. “But you didn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve that.”

“You wanted me gone, Rowan.” My heart hammers against my ribcage, the hurt bubbling to the surface. “You set me up.”

“I did. I had a plan to get rid of you because I didn’t know how to handle you, which has always been the problem with me. I get rid of things I’m afraid of instead of…” He closes his eyes briefly, and when they open again, I see pain in them. “It was twisted, I know. And I’ve been beating myself up for it every waking second. But I’m not here to talk about myself. This is about you, not me.”

I can only stare. Hearing his voice again is like seeing an oasis in the desert. My mind is conflicted, my heart even more so.

“I went to Christina to fight for you,” he says, taking another step toward me. “I showed her what you’ve done for the team, what you’ve done for me, for all of the guys. But I didn’t do it alone.” He turns around, waving over to the guys on the rink, still holding the banners. “Everyone was there for you. They didn’t just back me up. They didn’t just fight for you; we were all ready to raise hell if you weren’t reinstated because we’re a team. A family. And yes, we might have used a few threats, but,” he chuckles, “we did it.”

I suck in a sharp breath, tears pooling in my eyes. I look down at the men scattered across the ice, spotting a few more banners, screaming “LONG LIVE LIVIA” and “TEAM = FAMILY.”

“You…” I falter. “You did all of this for me?” I ask, but my heart aches with uncertainty. “Do you think that fixes things?”

“No,” he says, his voice steady and low, raw with sincerity. “But I’m begging you to see that you’re part of this team now. I never wanted you gone. I can’t even function properly without you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but there’s no team without you. No me without you. In this short time, you’ve completely taken over my life.”

His gaze is fierce and unwavering, and I can feel the vulnerability beneath his rough exterior. The players behind him start cheering, their voices rising, echoing the hope that’s blooming in my chest.

“Come on, Livia! We need you!” one of them calls out, and another adds, “You belong here!”

I take a deep breath, feeling overwhelmed by their support, a warmth I’ve longed for but never truly felt.

“I…” I whisper, fighting back the tears. “I don’t know if I can just pretend this didn’t happen, Rowan.”

Rowan steps even closer, and I can see the depth of his regret. And suddenly, he drops to his knees in front of me. My eyes widen, my arms falling to my sides.

“What are you doing?” I breathe out, trying to process the sight before me: Rowan DiMarco on his knees in front of me.

“You don’t have to pretend. Just give me a chance to show you how I feel. That I’m worth your time. You deserve more than what I’ve given you, and I want to make it right. Give me a chance to make it right.”

In that moment, everything I’ve felt—the hurt, the confusion, the longing—crashes into something powerful and overwhelming. I can’t hold back the tears any longer, and they spill down my cheeks.

“Rowan,” I whisper, crouching down in front of him. He’s towering over me again, even on his knees. His green eyes are glassy, his hands fisted on his thighs.

“I’ll be damned if I let you give up and go back to Wyoming, when this is where you belong. And don’t get me wrong, a life on a farm is a wonderful life. But it’s a wonderful life for the people who dream about it. That’s not what you dream of, baby. Your place is here. You have everything it takes to make it in this world. And even if you never want anything to do with me again, I’ll support you. I swear, I will, even if you won’t have me by your side. Yeah, it’ll kill me,” he admits, his voice thick with raw emotion. And that’s when I see the unshed tears in his eyes. “But I’ll be in the stands, cheering for you, doing everything I can to help you thrive, even from afar. You deserve to chase your dreams, whether it’s as the Panthers’ PR rep or any other team out there. I believe in you, Livia, with every fucking fiber of my being.”

The cheers from the guys grow louder, urging me to come back and forgive him, and I can hardly process it all. I’m overwhelmed but in the best way possible. They want me back. They believe in me. Rowan believes in me. I can’t help the sob that escapes.

I feel his warm hands cupping my face, and the tears come faster. God, I’ve missed his touch so much.

“Baby, why are you crying?” he asks, tilting my face to look at me. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I wanted to make you happy. I’m so sorry, baby.”

“No, Rowan.” I shake my head fiercely, my heart racing as I look into his eyes. “This…this is the best thing anyone’s ever done for me.” I sniff, my hands coming up to wrap around his.

“I’m sorry, Livia,” he murmurs, pulling me closer. “You’re the most brilliant person I’ve ever met, and my idiot brain didn’t know how to handle you.”

I let out a laugh between sniffs, feeling his hands wrap me tighter.

“But I know now. And my heart? It’s always known,” he says before kissing my temple. “Please forgive me.”

I look up at him just in time for him to take my hand and place it over his heart. It beats rapidly under my palm as he looks at me.

“This is only for you,” he whispers as his heart beats rapidly against my palm.

There’s nothing to say, no words fit for what I’m feeling in this moment. So, I take my other hand and wrap it against his, lifting it to my chest.

I see the change in his expression immediately. It lights up, like I just told him he’s won the Stanley Cup. His left hand leaves mine and wipes my tears away with his thumb, a gesture so sweet and tender that I turn to place a gentle kiss on his wrist.

The cheers echo around us, distant and excited. This isn’t just lip service; it’s action. The guys are here, standing together, ready to fight for me.

My heart swells with gratitude, and I let out a shaky breath. I’ve spent so long feeling like an outsider, and now, in this moment, I finally feel like I belong. Like I’m not just a cog but a vital part of something big.

“Rowan,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “I forgive you.” It’s not just words; it’s a release of everything that’s been weighing on me for the past week.

“You do?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, but I can see the flicker of hope in his eyes.

“I do,” I reply, my heart racing under his palm.

Rowan shifts closer, and the world around us fades into the background. The cheers of the guys become a distant roar, and all I can see is him. His gaze holds mine for a few beats before he cups my face. And then, in front of the entire team, he leans in and presses his lips against mine. He’s gentle at first, his mouth moving slowly against mine, but it grows more frantic with each second, more desperate.

I kiss him back, promising forgiveness, understanding, and a fresh start. Applause erupts around us, cheers mingling with deep yells and whistling from the ice.

I melt into him, my hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer. This is right. This is where I belong.

As we pull away, breathless and grinning, I catch my teammates' eyes, all smiling back at us, their support wrapping around me like a warm blanket.

Rowan grins, his usual cocky charm shining through, but there’s something deeper in his gaze now.

“Come on, baby,” he murmurs. “Let’s go show everyone that Livia Moody is back.”

I find myself laughing as Rowan pulls me to my feet, feeling lighter than I ever have before. I’m wanted here. I belong here. With these guys, with Rowan. And for the first time in a very long time, I can say it with certainty.

I’m home.