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R emi watched in silence as Max got into the car to head home from the airport. His body language showed his defeat, and while she knew she had said no more passes, tonight she would give this man anything he needed.

Before he buckled in, he leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Thank you for picking me up.”

“Of course. Your place or mine?” she asked.

“Mine,” he said, thinking about it before adding, “but first, donuts.”

Remi smiled over at her big, red teddy bear of a man. He was beautiful on a good day, but the sadness in his eyes only made them that much more green, more real, more relatable. She loved him. That she was certain of, and if he wanted donuts, then donuts he would get.

They drove in silence down PCH towards Seal Beach. Having no words with Max was normal for them, she accepted his silence but was grateful for his touch. His hand rested on her thigh, a reminder that while he didn’t always have the words to articulate his need for her, his physical connection was always strong.

“You’re so beautiful, Rem,” he said breaking the silence.

She looked over at him, his gaze on her didn’t waver. “You okay?” she asked, knowing damn well he wasn’t but giving him every opportunity to speak about what happened at the game.

“It wasn’t low blood sugar the day we met,” he said quietly.

“No, I guess it wasn’t.”

He looked out the window, and then back at her. “I wish it would have been low blood sugar, Rem.”

“Me too, Max,” she said, placing her free hand on top of his.

“I’m scared,” he said, voice cracking.

She brought the car to a stop; they had made it to Donut Palace. “What can I do to make you feel safe?” she asked.

He brought his rough hand to her cheek, running his thumb across her bottom lip, then down the bridge of her nose, then over her jawline. His eyes were intent on her. Taking her in. Memorizing her.

“Don’t let me forget what this looks like,” he said.

“I won’t. I promise.”

“I don’t want to forget the details, Remi.”

She leaned over the center console, bringing the tip of her nose to trace across his. “You won’t. We will spend every waking moment memorizing each other. Loving each other. Learning how to navigate this together.”

“I love you, you know?” he said.

“I know you do,” she said, because she did.

“It’s going to be hard… I might be hard.”

She brought her lips to his in a delicate kiss, her breath heavy against his lips. “I’m not afraid of hard things.”

“I’ll need a lot of help,” he said between soft kisses.

“I know, and I’m ready for it.”

“After the break, I’m telling the team. Coach told me to take the time off to prepare for it, but I almost wish I had told them after the game. I wish they already knew so I didn’t have to face them again.”

Remi shook her head at his words, taking his hand in hers, gripping it tight. “Don’t say that. Just because you won’t be able to play again doesn’t mean you’re not a part of that team. They love you, and they’re going to rally behind you, Max. Your name, your number, and your jersey will be woven into the history of that team for eternity. You’re Max Miller. You have your face on banners leading to the Condors arena.”

“I’ll never win a Cup.”

“Neither did Henrik Lundqvist, but he’s still one of the greatest goaltenders of all time.”

“How do you know that?” Max asked, cocking an eyebrow at her random hockey trivia.

“I’ve been doing my research. And what I found is that not all of the greats win a Cup, but it doesn’t diminish the careers they had. Nothing will steal the legacy you’ve already left with the Condors.”

“You overestimate me.”

“No, you underestimate yourself. You’ve been doing it since I met you and I think it’s high time you stop tattooing your losses on your side and start enjoying your wins.”