Page 12

Chapter twelve

Abby

Of course we came to the game. Who’s kidding who? And now the following weekend we’re back at a practice session. I pretend it’s only Jake who’s making this a routine, yep, only Jake.

“Beck, can I see the stick room again?” Jake’s eyes practically sparkle as he tugs on Beck’s sleeve. He’s been talking about that stick room since the last tour, and I’m pretty sure he’s memorized the dimensions of every blade in there.

Beck chuckles and squats down to eye level. “Of course, buddy. But only if you can beat me in a race down the tunnel.”

Jake gasps, eyes widening. “A race?”

“Yep.” Beck’s grin is pure mischief as he leans down, giving Jake a head start. “One, two… go!”

Jake takes off like a rocket, his laughter echoing through the hallway. I’m trailing behind them, my heart warming at how effortlessly Beck slides into Jake’s world. He doesn’t just tolerate my son—he genuinely enjoys spending time with him.

And Jake? He’s absolutely smitten.

“Go, Jake!” I cheer, but my eyes stay on Beck.

He’s all heart and warmth around Jake—encouraging, patient, and effortlessly charming. He slows down just enough to let Jake cross the invisible finish line first, pumping his fists like Jake just scored the winning goal in the Stanley Cup.

“You got me!” Beck pants, pretending to be out of breath.

Jake beams, his cheeks flushed with excitement. “I beat Beck Hayes!”

Beck laughs, crouching down to high-five Jake. “You’re faster than some of the guys on my line.”

Jake’s grin is so wide it could light up the entire arena. But I can’t take my eyes off Beck.

“Abby, you okay?” Beck’s voice snaps me out of my reverie. I blink, realizing I’ve been staring at him way too long. Those broad shoulders, muscled arms, athletic build. That chiseled jawline. That scruffy hair.

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah.” I clear my throat, but my heart’s pounding. “Just… thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” His tone is gentle, but his eyes—those intense, unreadable eyes—are locked on mine.

You. Us. The fact that I can’t stop imagining what it would feel like to let you in.

I manage a weak smile. “Just… Jake’s lucky, that’s all.”

Beck’s brow furrows, but before he can press, Jake interrupts.

“Mom! Did you see? I won!”

I latch onto the distraction like a lifeline, flashing a bright smile at Jake. “I saw, sweetheart! You were amazing.”

But Beck isn’t fooled. His gaze lingers on me, a silent question hanging between us. I look away before I say something I can’t take back.

The stick room is just as fascinating as Jake remembers. He’s practically vibrating with excitement as Beck explains the different types of sticks and how players customize them.

“See this curve here?” Beck shows Jake a stick with a slight bend in the blade. “That’s what gives me a wicked backhand.”

Jake’s eyes go wide. “Whoa. Can I try?”

Beck grins. “Next time we’re on the ice.”

Jake looks like Beck just promised him a lifetime supply of ice cream.

I lean against the wall, my arms crossed, watching them. Jake’s admiration for Beck is so pure, so innocent. And Beck…

He’s all in. No walls. No hesitation.

It’s like he’s already claimed a space in Jake’s world—and he fits there perfectly.

“Abby?”

Beck’s voice is softer now, and when I meet his gaze, yet again the air between us shifts.

He’s watching me like he sees through every defense I’ve built. Like he knows exactly what I’m feeling but is waiting for me to admit it.

“You’re amazing with him,” I whisper.

Beck’s eyes soften. “Jake’s a great kid.”

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly tight. “It’s not just Jake.”

His expression shifts, something deeper flashing in his eyes as he turns toward me. “Really?”

My pulse kicks up, my body leaning ever so slightly toward him. I put my hands on his forearms and it feels like an explosion running through my body.

Say it. Just say it.

But then Jake calls out, “Mom! Come look at this!” and the moment shatters.

I blink and whatever just happened between us slips through my fingers. But before stepping back I tighten my grip, then move to hold his face for a moment and nod.

“Be right there, Jake,” I say, forcing a smile.

Beck’s eyes meet mine as he smiles, ever so gently. It’s enough to make my heart pound itself right out of my chest.

***

As we walk toward the locker room, Beck falls in step beside me, his shoulder brushing against mine. I feel the heat radiating off him, and it sends a shiver down my spine.

Taking my hand, he says: “I meant what I said earlier,” Beck murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

I glance up, but his eyes are focused straight ahead. “About Jake?”

“And about you.”

My steps falter, but Beck steadies me with a light touch on my elbow.

“I don’t know what’s going on between us,” he continues, his tone softer now. “But I know I care. A lot.”

I swallow hard, my heart pounding as I look up at this wonderful man.

“I’m not asking for answers.” His voice is warm, patient. “Just… don’t shut me out.”

My throat tightens, and I can’t find the words. So, I nod, hoping that’s enough for now. His hand loosens and we part slowly and deliciously.

After his second practice session we all move to the locker room where Jake is bouncing with excitement.

I’m hyper-aware of Beck beside me—how his arm occasionally brushes against mine, how his nearness makes my skin tingle.

“Just wait here,” Beck says, guiding Jake toward one of the empty benches. “I’ll grab you something cool.”

Jake nods eagerly, but before Beck can take two steps, Spotty—who’s been quiet this whole time—decides that now is the perfect moment to remind everyone he’s an energetic, oversized puppy.

“Spotty, no—”

Too late.

Spotty barrels toward Beck like he’s trying to check him into the boards.

“Whoa!” Beck barely catches himself, laughing as Spotty’s front paws land on his chest. “Easy, boy!”

I rush forward, mortified. “Spotty! Get down!”

Beck’s laughing, though, rubbing Spotty’s ears like the dog just made his day. “You missed me, huh?”

Spotty responds with an enthusiastic lick, and I groan, covering my face.

“I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t be.” Beck’s voice is warm, his grin lopsided as he looks at me over Spotty’s head. “I think I’m his favorite now.”

Jake giggles as he singsongs two syllables out of the word Beck. “Spotty loves Beck; Spotty loves Beck; Spotty loves Beck.”

My heart does a funny little flip.

Yeah, sweetheart, I think we all do.

Beck walks us to the parking lot after the tour, Spotty trotting happily beside him. Jake’s chatting nonstop about everything he saw, but my mind is spinning in a thousand directions.

“Thanks for today,” I murmur, glancing at Beck.

“Anytime,” he says softly, his eyes holding mine. “I mean that.”

The air thickens, and for a moment, I forget where we are.

Beck steps closer—just enough for me to feel the heat radiating from him. His gaze drops to my lips, and I swear the world tilts.

“Abby…” His voice is barely above a whisper.

My heart slams into my ribs. I should back away. I should say something, anything, to break this moment.

But I don’t.

My breath catches as Beck lifts a hand, his fingers brushing against my cheek.

It’s so gentle, so achingly sweet, that I can’t breathe.

Just kiss me already.

“Abby…” His thumb grazes my jaw, his touch sending tingles down my spine.

Our eyes lock, and I know— this is it.

I tilt my head ever so slightly, lips parting, ready…

“Beck, can Spotty come back to the rink with us next time?”

And again, Jake’s voice cuts through the moment, shattering the delicate bubble around us.

Beck’s hand drops, and he shakes his head ever so slightly as he clears his throat. “Of course, buddy.”

My cheeks flush, and I step back, my pulse pounding in my ears.

“Goodnight, Beck,” I whisper, my voice barely steady.

“Goodnight, Abby.”

But as I walk away my heart is aching, and I know this isn’t over.

No, whatever “it” is, it’s definitely starting, not finishing.

***

That night, I tuck Jake into bed and linger a little longer than usual, watching the peaceful rise and fall of his chest.

My mind drifts back to Beck—his touch, his warmth, the unspoken words hanging between us.

I almost kissed him.

I almost told him how I feel.

But almost isn’t enough.

And the longer I hold back, the harder it gets to deny what’s already happening.

I’ve fallen for Beckett Hayes. And this time… I don’t think I can stop it.

Don’t kid yourself Abs, you KNOW you can’t stop it.

***

Jake’s long asleep, snuggled up with Spotty in a tangle of sheets and stuffed animals. I’m sitting at the kitchen table, staring at my laptop, but I haven’t typed a single word.

Beck’s face keeps popping into my head. His laugh. His patience. The way he makes Jake feel special.

And then there’s how he makes me feel.

Like maybe… just maybe… I can be brave enough to try again.

I press the heels of my hands to my eyes, willing away the ache that’s been building all night.

I can’t.

I’ve barely survived picking up the pieces once. I can’t risk it all falling apart again.

But then my phone buzzes on the table.

Beck: Had fun today. Jake’s a natural. Hope to see you guys at the VIP Kid’s Day .

My heart does a somersault.

I hover over the keyboard, my fingers trembling.

Say something. Say anything.

I type: Thanks, Beck. Jake had a blast.

And then I almost do it. I almost tell him how much today meant to me. How good his hand felt in mine. How seeing him with Jake made me feel things I’ve tried so hard to bury.

But I delete it.

Instead, I send a smiley face and shove the phone aside, my heart pounding like I’ve just faced off against the entire Ice Hawks defense.

You’re playing defense, Abby.

It’s time to stop fearing, to begin a new life. It’s time to let Beck in.