Page 50 of Moms of Mayhem (Mayhem Hockey Club #1)

After the chaos of Lori’s house, my own felt far too quiet.

Jace had gone to bed almost an hour ago, exhausted from practice and pizza and trying not to let the weight of the world show on his shoulders.

I’d lingered in his doorway after saying goodnight, watching the soft rise and fall of his chest, committing it to memory like I always did when life started to shift around us.

And things were shifting, fast.

Beckett was going back to Denver, back to the NHL. Back to a life that had never included us and might not again. At least, not like this.

In all our time together over the last three months, we hadn’t talked about what came next. I told myself it was because I didn’t want to distract Beckett, didn’t want to add pressure when he was already trying to rehab his way into a miracle recovery. But, deep down, I was terrified.

What if this was only ever meant to be temporary?

The TV hummed across the living room, volume low, some old romcom flickering like a ghost of something just out of reach for me. The water I’d poured myself after we got home was mostly untouched on the coffee table, condensation pooling in a perfect ring beneath it.

I glanced at the clock—11:46 p.m.—and curled my legs beneath me tighter on the couch.

I didn’t know why I was so nervous. He’d been here dozens of times.

Kissed me breathless in my kitchen. Even slept in my bed on New Years Eve.

But something about tonight felt heavier, knowing it might be the last time.

My phone lit up on the armrest beside me, showing motion at the front door.

I didn’t even look at the feed. Just stood, smoothed my hands over my worn pajama pants and his oversized hoodie, and tiptoed barefoot across the hardwood.

When I opened the front door, Beckett was already grinning at me, holding out a handful of flowers.

“They’re a little wilted,” he whispered, glancing down at the flowers with an arched brow. “Hope that’s okay.”

I smiled as I reached for them. “They’re my favorite.”

He leaned forward just enough to kiss my cheek, the faintest brush of his lips against my skin. “God, you look like trouble.”

“And you look like you snuck out of your mom’s house at midnight.”

Beckett chuckled low in his throat. “That’s because I did.”

I closed the door quietly behind him and slid the deadbolt home. “Come on.” I took his hand. “Try not to wake the teenager.”

We crept up the stairs like teenagers ourselves, my heartbeat kicking up with each step. He was warm behind me, close enough I could feel his breath near my neck .

By the time we reached my bedroom, I was barely holding it together.

I turned, meaning to say something, but the moment the door clicked shut behind us, Beckett stepped in and kissed me.

No hesitation. No space between.

Just his mouth on mine like he’d been waiting all night. Like he needed this as badly as I did.

I clutched the front of his hoodie and kissed him back, letting the weight of everything we weren’t saying fall away.

Maybe we couldn’t name what this was. Maybe we didn’t know what came next. But he was here, and I wasn’t ready to let him go.

His hands slid under the hoodie I’d never returned and he’d never taken back, pushing the thick fabric over my head. I hadn’t bothered with a tank underneath, hoping my evening would end like this.

“Fuck,” Beckett muttered, his palms sweeping across my skin to cup my breasts. “You have the perfect tits.”

The warmth of his touch made my stomach twist, not just with arousal, but with something deeper. His thumbs brushed across my nipples, drawing a gasp from my lips as my head tipped back against the wall.

“You’ve seen them almost daily,” I said, voice uneven as he closed his mouth over one nipple, his hand kneading the other. “Figured you’d be bored by now.”

He answered with his mouth—biting gently at my skin, enough to make me shiver. “Never,” he whispered.

I dragged my nails up his back, feeling the way his muscles flexed beneath my touch, and it made him groan—deep and low. He leaned away just enough to yank his tee over his head in one rough pull, baring all that inked, golden skin I’d traced so many times.

The moonlight poured in over his shoulders, casting him in silver and shadow as he pressed his chest to mine again. His skin was warm, his heartbeat steady, unraveling me with every beat.

Our mouths met again, slower now. Softer. Like we were trying to say everything we were too scared to say out loud. I looped my arms around his neck just as his hands gripped my waist, tugging me tight against him before lifting me off the ground entirely.

I wrapped my legs around his hips, clinging to him like I never wanted to let go. He carried me across the room and lowered me gently onto the bed like I was something precious. Like I mattered.

He hovered over me for a second, eyes searching mine. I almost told him then. Almost whispered I love you , but the words stuck behind the fear.

It was all too much—his hands, his mouth, his weight against mine. But it still wasn’t enough to hush the ache in my chest. The one that whispered, This can’t last. This isn’t yours to keep.

I blinked hard, willing the tears away. He kissed down the side of my neck, slow and reverent, and it took everything in me not to break.

“Hey,” he murmured, lifting his head, voice gentler than I deserved. His breath brushed my cheek. “Em.”

I tried to smile. Failed. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” He didn’t pull away. He just stayed there, watching me. Patient. Present.

“I wish this didn’t have to end,” I said finally, the words pulled from that aching space behind my ribs where the hope lived—and the fear right beside it.

Beckett froze.

“I tell myself I’m protecting Jace,” I went on, the words tumbling faster now.

“That it’s better to wait, to be sure, to not turn his world upside down unless we know this is real.

But it is real, at least for me. It has been for weeks.

And he’s not stupid. He’s 15. He sees everything, and still I’ve got us sneaking around like we’re something temporary. ”

Beckett sat back on his knees, his hands warm and steady on my hips. “You think we’re temporary?”

“No.” I shook my head, tears sliding silently down my cheeks.

“God, no. I wish we could be everything. I wish I could have all of this, out loud and forever. But I can’t.

Not yet. Because Jace comes first. And if this ever fell apart…

” I swallowed hard. “I couldn’t put him through that. And I can’t make you choose us.”

Beckett’s expression softened, pain flickering through his eyes. “What do you think I’m going to do, Em? Walk away? Leave you hanging when it gets hard?”

“No,” I whispered. “That’s the worst part. I believe you. I believe in this. And that’s what terrifies me.”

He exhaled, slow and steady, like he was feeling the weight of every heartbreak I carried.

“I’ve stopped trying to be subtle about it,” he said.

“Ty knows I’m in deep. My mom knows. Anyone paying attention probably knows I’m so fucking in love with you, I’d do anything to be with you.

I’m not hiding this, Emmy. I don’t want to. ”

My breath caught, eyes finding his. “You love me? Even when I’m sneaking you up the stairs like a teenager with a curfew?”

His thumbs brushed away the tears, and his voice dropped into something rough and tender.

“You’re protecting him. I know that. But Em, you don’t have to protect him from me.

And you don’t have to protect yourself from me either.

Because yes, I love you so fucking much I don’t know what to do with myself.

You’re way too good for me, and I don’t deserve you even a little bit, but I’ve always been selfish.

I can’t let you go. I can’t let either of you go. ”

The dam broke. A fresh tear rolled, and I let it.

My hands brushed through his dark hair, holding him close. “I’ve seen how you are with Jace. How careful you are. How much you already care . That’s what terrifies me the most. Because it means this isn’t casual. It never was.”

“Fuck no, it’s not casual,” he said with a quiet fire that went straight to my chest. “You’re not some temporary fling I’m passing time with. You’re it. Maybe you always have been.”

I let out a breath that felt like a release, and then I kissed him.

Not out of lust, but out of hope . Out of the aching truth that I didn’t want a single night more without letting him fully in.

He kissed me back with a kind of reverence that stole the air from my lungs.

When I leaned back on the bed and pulled him with me, it wasn’t desperation. It was surrender.

We undressed each other slowly, like we had all the time in the world. Every brush of skin, every kiss, was a quiet vow I wasn’t ready to speak aloud.

His fingers slid down my body like he was memorizing every inch. My thighs parted for him, breath hitching as he stroked over my clit, then lower, slipping inside me with gentle precision .

My hand flew up to muffle the sound threatening to rise.

“Quiet.” Beckett’s blue eyes sparkled in the dim light. He removed my hand and covered my mouth with his. One kiss turned into two, then his tongue slid between my lips just as he added a second finger, curling them just right.

I moaned into his mouth, and Beckett pulled his hand free, leaving me empty and on the edge of an orgasm.

“What?” I whispered when he sat back, rising up on my elbows to chase him. “Why’d you stop?”

His hand slid over his cock in slow strokes, staring down at me. “Gotta keep you quiet, don’t I?”

His free hand wrapped around my wrist, tugging me toward him until my mouth was right in front of his cock.

My breaths came in quick bursts, staring up at him towering over me.

“Open that pretty mouth, Peach.” His thumb traced over my bottom lip, prying my mouth open. “Show me how good you suck my cock so you’re all I think about on the road.”

I pulled his thumb into my mouth, swirling my tongue over the pad, until his head tipped up toward the ceiling, nostrils flared. He pulled his hand from my mouth, and I opened wide, my tongue out.

He closed the distance between us, the smooth skin of his cock sliding between my lips. My hand gripped his thigh, tugging his hip toward me, then easing back with each stroke.

“Oh, fuck,” Beckett groaned, his hand resting on my knee. I spread my legs wider, and he slid his hand back down to my center.

With his cock in my mouth and his fingers in my pussy, I hummed with need. We moved like we’d done this a thousand times, chasing each other’s pleasure down. My legs shook, I was so close to the edge, an orgasm hovering just out of reach.

My mouth slipped free with a pop. “Need you, now. You can skip the condom—I’m on the pill.”

Beckett’s nostrils flared, and he pulled his hand free. I hardly had time to feel the emptiness before his cock was there, sliding home.

We both groaned in unison, bare skin feeling so good with each stroke. His mouth crashed down on mine, teasing and tasting in time with his movements. My nails scratched across his back, digging in as I tried to hold on. Tried to keep this moment from ending.

But everything felt too good. His head dropped down to my shoulder, kissing there. “Tell me you’re going to come. I don’t know if I can hold out any longer, you feel so good.”

I nodded, afraid to open my mouth, afraid of the noises I wanted to make.

“Come for me, baby,” he said against my skin. “Let me feel you.”

My body tightened around his, pulsing and squeezing tight, and Beckett swore into my skin. His hips picked up the pace, growing erratic, until he shuddered above me.

He dropped his weight down on me, and I wrapped my arms around his back, holding tight. Skin to skin, breaths mingling, hearts pounding, I let myself feel the love pouring off him, even if I hadn’t said it back.

In that moment, I wasn’t just afraid of losing him. I was afraid of how deeply I needed him. Of how badly I didn’t want to let go.