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Bridger

S lap Shotz is packed to the brim when we walk through the door. The air is thick with the buzz of celebration and the tang of beer. We’re heading to the Frozen Four, and judging by the charged atmosphere in the bar, the whole town is riding high from the excitement.

I’ve got Holland tucked under my arm, and despite the chaos surrounding us, my attention keeps drifting to her. She laughs with Willow and the rest of the girls. Her eyes are bright and there’s a smirk curving her lips.

It’s a sight I’ll never get tired of.

“Bridger,” a voice interrupts, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I glance up to see Garret approaching. His hands are jammed into his pockets and his shoulders are hunched. Uncertainty is etched across his face as his gaze darts between us.

“Holland,” he says, his voice quieter than usual, almost hesitant. “Do you have a moment to talk?”

She stiffens slightly as she nods.

“I just…” He exhales heavily, glancing at the floor before meeting her gaze. “I want to apologize for putting you in the position I did. Lying to Bridger, making you cover for me, dragging you into the messages. All of it. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorry.”

Holland studies him for a long moment as his apology lingers in the air. Just when I think she’ll tell him to go fuck himself, she surprises me by reaching out and touching his arm.

“Thank you,” she says softly, her tone steady. “I appreciate it. And I get it—you were hurting. But next time, maybe don’t burn everything down around you to deal with it, okay?”

A quiet, self-deprecating laugh escapes him as he rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah. Lesson learned.”

“Good.” Her tone is resolute but not unkind. When her gaze meets mine, there’s something in it that makes my breath catch.

Trust.

“All right,” Garret says, shifting awkwardly. “I’m gonna grab a drink.”

“Hey,” I call after him. It’s only when he stops, glancing back over his shoulder to meet my gaze that I say, “You’re good, man. We’re good.”

His expression softens as he nods, and without another word, he disappears into the crowd.

Holland leans into me, her head resting against my shoulder. “I like this version of you.”

“Yeah?” I tighten my arm around her, savoring the warmth of her against my side. “What version is that?”

“The one who forgives,” she says, her lips curving into a small smile as she tips her face up to meet mine. “It’s kind of hot.”

I smirk, lowering my head so our foreheads nearly touch. “Only kind of?”

Her chuckle is soft, her breath warm against my skin. “Don’t push your luck, Sanderson.”

Around us, laughter and conversation fill the space, but there’s something different in the air tonight. Something that feels more final. Not in a bad way, just in the way things shift when one chapter comes to an end and another one begins.

Ryder stands beside Juliette, his arm slung around her shoulders, his fingers absently playing with the ends of her hair. Ford and Carina are close by, hands clasped together, their eyes locked like they’re in their own private world. Stella leans into Riggs, their grins matching as she whispers something in his ear. Viola nudges Madden playfully, her teasing met with a low chuckle as he pulls her against him.

Fallyn and Wolf are wrapped up in each other, her fingers resting lightly on his chest as he watches her as if she’s the only person in the room. The only one he sees. Colby and Britt share a quiet moment, their hands linked, their smiles easy. Maverick tugs Willow closer, his lips pressing to her temple like he still can’t believe she’s his.

And Ava and Hayes?

They stand side by side, no grand gestures, just a quiet, undeniable certainty between them.

Out of everyone, their relationship is probably the biggest surprise of all.

The nine of us met as incoming freshmen, grew into men over the years, and found love stories none of us expected. Now, we’re moving forward, each on our own path, ready to tackle whatever comes next.

One thing is for certain—no matter where life takes us, we’ve found something rare, something unshakable.

We started as teammates.

Now, we’re family.

Not by blood but by choice. The kind of family you build and hold on to because they’re the ones who truly matter.

My gaze shifts to Sully, the owner of Slap Shotz, when he hauls himself onto the small stage in the corner, his burly frame and booming voice instantly commanding everyone’s attention. He raises his arms, palms out, and his deep voice cuts through the chatter like a knife.

“Hey!” Sully shouts, his grin as wide as the room itself. “Quiet down, you rowdy bunch, and listen up!”

The bar falls into a semi-silence, with only a few murmurs trailing off as all eyes turn to the stage. Sully points a finger toward our team, his expression full of pride.

“I couldn’t be prouder of these guys and the season they’ve had. But let’s get one thing straight—it ain’t over yet, is it?”

The room erupts into cheers and whistles, the energy palpable. A grin tugs at my lips as Sully raises his hands again, motioning for everyone to settle.

“That’s right! We’ve got a Frozen Four trophy to bring back to this town!” His voice grows louder, more animated. “But tonight? Tonight, we celebrate! So, who’s gonna kick things off with some karaoke?”

The crowd roars in response, and my grin widens as Sully leans into the mic. “Come on! Don’t be shy now!”

There’s only one thing left to do to make this night complete.

Adrenaline hums through my veins, drowning out any nerves as I weave through the packed bar toward the stage.

“Bridger, what the hell are you doing?” Holland hisses, grabbing for my hand.

I glance over my shoulder with a smirk. Her wide eyes lock on mine, a mixture of amusement and panic in her expression. “Showing you—and everyone else—exactly how I feel.”

Her mouth opens, but no words come out, as I pull away and hop up onto the stage. Sully claps me on the back with a hearty laugh.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” he says, handing me the mic. “What’ll it be, Sanderson?”

I lean in and whisper the song choice. His brows shoot up and then his grin returns, wider than ever. “You got it.”

The moment the first notes of “Everything” by Michael Bublé fill the bar, a concoction of nerves and adrenaline surges through me. It’s not like I’m afraid of a crowd. I’ve played in front of packed arenas, for fuck’s sake. But this is different.

This isn’t a game.

This is me, standing under dim stage lights, gripping a mic, and putting my feelings out there in the open.

I scan the crowd until I find Holland. She’s frozen in place, her gaze pinned to me, lips parted in surprise. I smirk, letting the confidence settle over me as I ease into the song.

My voice is steady, but inside, my heart pounds against my ribs. I watch as Holland’s hand flies to her mouth, her cheeks flushing. The noise of the bar dulls around me and everything fades until there’s just her.

The girl who drives me crazy.

The very same one I can’t stay away from.

The girl I’m probably half in love with already.

This one’s for her.

And only her.

When the final notes drift off and the bar explodes into applause, I set the mic down and hop off the stage without hesitation. My sole focus is closing the distance between us. My feet barely touch the floor as I stride toward her.

She’s still standing, cheeks flushed, her lips parted in surprise. The second I reach her, she buries her face in my chest and her arms wind around my waist.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice muffled against my shirt.

I rest my chin on the top of her head and press a kiss against her hair. “No, baby. Thank you . For being mine.”

Her arms tighten, and in that moment, surrounded by the riot of celebration, there’s nothing but us.

Across the room, I spot Steele at the bar, his broad shoulders tense as he leans in toward the girl who has always been his best friend. Lilah’s eyes are narrowed as she glares at him. If I had to guess, I’d say he just scared off the guy who was flirting with her earlier.

I chuckle under my breath and lean into Holland, brushing my lips against her ear. “Think she’ll ever figure out his feelings go way beyond friendship?”

Holland’s gaze follows mine, her brow arching as she watches Lilah jab a finger at Steele’s chest, her frustration clear.

“I don’t know,” she murmurs, her tone thoughtful. “Think he’ll ever grow a pair and tell her? Aren’t they both graduating this spring?”

“Yup.” I grin, shaking my head. “I told him the other day when he was whining about the date she went on that he better shit or get off the pot.”

Holland lets out a laugh, her eyes twinkling as she looks up at me. “Charmingly put, as always. Kind of like you, huh? Finally deciding to take matters into your own hands?”

I slide an arm around her waist and pull her closer. “Hey, I’d say my master plan worked out pretty well in the end, wouldn’t you?” My lips graze hers. “After all, I finally got the girl I’ve always wanted.”

Her cheeks flush, and that teasing smile I love so much curves her lips. “Master plan, huh? And here I thought it was all spontaneous charm.”

“Let me have my moment,” I reply with a mock-serious expression, earning another laugh from her. My voice drops as I press my forehead to hers. “Now, what do you say we get out of here? After that hard win tonight, I was hoping you’d consider giving me a private dance.”

Holland’s eyes glint with mischief, her fingers trailing over my pecs. “I think that can be arranged,” she whispers, her breath ghosting over my lips.

With a grin, I take her hand and lead her toward the exit until the noise of the bar fades behind us. Tonight, there’s only one thing on my mind, and she’s right here, her hand warm in mine.