Page 37 of For Pucking Real (The Seattle Vipers #4)

Me? I'm standing in the middle of this beautiful hurricane, heart expanding in my chest until I can barely breathe around it.

I'm watching a life unfold around me that I never believed I could have, never thought I deserved.

The sights, the sounds, the scents, the laughter, it's overwhelming in the most glorious way possible.

Growing up in a house where Christmas meant walking on eggshells around my father's volatile moods, I never imagined that holiday chaos could feel this good, this safe.

That I could be part of something so beautifully imperfect, a family pieced together from broken parts that somehow fit perfectly.

It's loud. It's warm. It's mine.

I wipe my hands slowly on a dishtowel, taking a long moment just to absorb it all.

I watch Lia's face transform with laughter when Devan steals a freshly frosted cookie and gets immediately swatted by Brea with a wooden spoon.

I drink in the way Chloe's entire face lights up when Ridley finally conquers the Christmas lights and comes inside, lifting her high above his head like she's made of stardust and sunshine. My eyes find Devan, playfully tossing a string of multicolored lights around Tor's shoulders like a festive lasso, as Kodah’s little eyes light up in wonder in his daddy’s arms, both of them doubled over with laughter at Kodah's excited coos.

This is what happiness looks like I realize with startling clarity.

This is what it feels like to finally truly belong.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I step aside into the hallway to take the call. It’s my agent, Cliff.

“Merry Christmas,” I answer, running a hand through my still-damp hair. The hallway is quiet compared to the chaos of the living room, and I can hear the faint sound of Cliff's breathing on the other end of the line.

“Tell me you’re not spending it alone this year,” Cliff says, voice warm and amused. He knows how hard the holidays can be for me, especially with my dad and the rest of the family out of the picture.

“Definitely not alone,” I say, leaning against the wall, eyes drifting back to the chaos in the living room. “I’ve got. . .people.”

There’s a short pause on the line. “Good. I know the holidays can be rough, especially with your dad.”

I nod, even though he can’t see me. “It’s been nine years since I’ve seen him for Christmas. The rest of the family fell in line behind him. I stopped waiting for their calls a long time ago.”

“I know.” Cliff sighs. “You okay?”

I look into the living room. Devan crouches beside Chloe while she clutches a candy cane, attempting to gnaw on it.

Her eyes are bright with determination, and Devan's face is soft with affection. Lia brushes flour off Brea’s cheek as they make their way out of the kitchen, arguing about the proper cinnamon ratio in snickerdoodles.

Their laughter is like music, and I can't help but smile at the sight of them.

“I’m great,” I say, and I mean it. “Better than great.”

“Good. I’ve got no real news, just checking in. You’re playing hard, doing your job. The franchise is happy. I’m still negotiating your contract extension, but if you keep your head down, you’re on track to stay.”

I swallow hard, grateful for this news. “Thanks, Cliff. Really.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Finish the season strong and don’t get into any more fights with your teammates.” He chuckles. “Merry Christmas, Tobias.”

“Merry Christmas.”

When I hang up, I don’t move right away. I just stand there, soaking it all in. The lights. The sounds. The laughter. I don’t need my father’s approval anymore. I don’t need his version of family, not when I have this. People who actually see me, know me, and still want me here.

Devan appears around the corner, wiping his hands on a towel. His expression softens when he sees me. “Everything good?”

“Yeah. Agent check-in.” I keep my voice neutral, but he sees right through it, eyes flicking to mine with quiet understanding.

Tor walks by behind him, overhearing just enough to comment. “You’re an asset to this team, Groves. We see you. You keep playing like you are, and we’re going to do everything we can to keep you right here in Seattle.”

A lump forms in my throat. I nod, clearing it. “Thanks, man. Means a lot.”

The rest of the afternoon is a blur of frosting, glitter, tangled garland, and so much laughter my cheeks start to ache.

I help Alexis hang baby-safe ornaments on the lower branches of the tree while Lia herds the babies away from the extension cords.

Ridley and Tor argue about the tree skirt, Brea somehow ends up dancing with Glitzy, and Devan sneaks eggnog into my hand with a wink.

By the time Devan’s parents show up that evening, the house is buzzing with warmth and the smell of roasted ham. His mom, Momma Scott, hugs Lia tight, coos over Chloe, gushes over Kodah, and practically tackles me into a bear hug when she sees me.

“Tobias Groves! Oh, honey, I’ve missed your face.” She beams, kissing both of my cheeks. Her eyes are bright with tears, and her voice is thick with emotion.

My heart thuds in my chest. “You remember me?”

“Boy, please. We watched every single game when you and Devan played together in college. I was heartbroken when he told me you drifted apart. Now you’re here? My Christmas just got ten times better.”

His dad gives me a firm handshake, his smile quieter but just as sincere. “We’ve seen you play this season. I've kept tabs on your career. I'm glad you’re here in Seattle. Hope you stay.”

His words hit me harder than I expect, because yeah, Mr. Scott, I hope I stay too.

Later that night, Lia collapses onto the couch beside me after Devan finally wrangles Chloe into her pajamas and convinces her that Santa can't come until she's asleep.

Like a seven-month-old understands the concept of Santa.

Lia smiles at his antics, eyes heavy-lidded with exhaustion, a soft, unguarded expression that feels like a gift.

The Christmas lights cast a warm glow across her features, highlighting the delicate curve of her cheek and the slight smudge of her lipstick from kissing Chloe goodnight.

She looks grateful and glowing from the inside out, radiating a contentment I've rarely seen in her from all the work she's been doing.

We don't kiss. We don't touch. Not with everyone still scattered around the living room, Momma Scott arranging presents under the tree, Alexis and Tor curled up in the armchair sharing whispered jokes, baby Kodah cradled in her arms, Ridley and Brea slow-dancing to some Christmas song playing softly in the in the background.

When Devan comes back into the room with two mugs of hot chocolate and our eyes meet over Lia's head, something unspoken passes between us.

An acknowledgment. A promise, maybe. We don't need to say anything at all.

We're here. Together. Three people who shouldn't work but somehow do.

For once, I don't feel like I'm chasing something I can't have, like I'm the outsider pressing my nose against the glass, watching other people's happiness from a distance.

The weight of Texas, of my past, of all those lonely years playing in various cities seems to lift from my shoulders.

I'm part of it. Of this brilliant, messy, imperfect found family.

These people who welcomed me without hesitation, who make space for me at their table, in their traditions, in their lives.

My fingers brush against the plush fabric of the couch, anchoring myself to this moment, this feeling.

I'm not letting go. Not this time. Not ever again.

Because for the first time, I'm not chasing love, I'm living it.