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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: NASHVILLE

OWEN

I’m feeling pumped for the game, but it’s not out of sheer love for the sport. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Stacey and Millie, and I can’t remember the last time I felt so thoroughly happy. Seriously, I feel almost invincible, like nothing can hurt me or get in the way of the things I want. I’m lacing up my skates in the locker room, and I can’t keep the smile off my face. The guys are giving me side-eyes, a couple of them smirking like they know something’s up, but no one says anything yet. Not until Carson strolls over and plants himself on the bench next to me. He looks me up and down.

"Alright, spill it," Carson says, nudging my shoulder. "What’s got you grinning like you just won the Cup?"

Jensen perks up from across the room. "Yeah, you’ve been walking around here like you’re on cloud nine. What gives?"

Zander, Jacye, and Wilder all turn to gaze at me as well, clearly eager to hear what I have to say.

“Do you guys really have nothing better to do than wonder about me?” I laugh. “Shouldn’t you all be focusing on the game?”

“Oh, shut up and tell us what’s going on,” Zander insists.

I hesitate. Revealing aspects of my personal life is not something I’m used to doing. Having spent so much time in the spotlight, I’m always careful to keep my private life private. I hardly opened up to anyone on my old team… but these guys are different. These guys are actually my friends, and deep down, I want to tell them what’s happened because I want to have people I care about share in my happiness. They won’t use it against me.

“Alright,” I say, sitting back. “I do have something pretty exciting to share.”

Carson grins, intrigued. Jensen just leans against the wall, arms crossed, waiting. Zander, Jayce, and Wilder all move closer, surrounding me.

I take a breath. “So, I don’t know if you guys remember me saying that Stacey and I were a thing back in high school?”

“Did you?” Wilder says.

“Damn, a hottie like her went for a guy like you?” Jayce grins.

“Why? Are you a thing again or something?” Zander asks.

“Well, you could say that,” I continue. “And I found out this weekend that I’m a dad. Turns out, Millie’s my daughter.”

There’s a moment of silence. Zander, Jacye, and Wilder all look stunned. Carson’s jaw drops, and he looks like I just told him I was quitting hockey to become a monk. Jensen, on the other hand, grins.

“Well yeah,” he says. “Duh.”

Carson notices and points at Jensen. “Wait. You knew?”

Jensen shrugs. “Why do you think it took me so long to convince Grace that not all hockey players are bad? She was there for Stacey at the beginning.”

Carson stares at him, dumbfounded. “What the hell? I thought I was doing my job as the older brother, scaring them away!”

Jensen rolls his eyes. “Older by, like, ten seconds, dude. Relax.”

Carson shakes his head, but grins as he turns to look back at me. “Man, I did not see that coming. Millie’s a great kid, though. I can’t even imagine how pumped you must be.”

“Pumped doesn’t even cover it,” I admit. “It’s been… a lot, but Stacey and I are figuring it out, and Millie... man, she’s incredible. I’m not missing another moment of her life.”

“Awww,” Wilder says with a large smile. “Hell yeah, man. Daddy Owen.”

We all look at him with varying looks of confusion at his sentimentality. His eyes bounce around and his face flushes with embarrassment.

“What?” he snaps. “Can’t a guy appreciate a touching moment without you assholes judging? Stop looking at me like that!”

There’s a brief moment of silence before we all burst out laughing.

“All right, enough fucking around!” Coach’s voice suddenly booms through the locker room, snapping us to attention. “It’s time to get out there. Let’s go!”

Not wanting to piss the old man off, we hurry out of the locker room and onto the ice.

The energy in the arena is electric, the crowd’s cheers a constant roar as we take our positions for the face-off. I can feel the tension in the air, thick and charged, and my heart pounds in anticipation.

The puck drops, and it’s like a switch flips. All my focus zeroes in on the game. My skates dig into the ice as I chase the puck, weaving through defenders, dodging a stick aimed to trip me up. A quick pass to Jensen, and he takes the shot. The opposing goalie barely manages to block it. The crowd groans in unison.

We fall back to defense as the other team gains possession. My legs burn as I race back to help, my stick intercepting a pass just before their winger can take a clean shot. I pass it up the boards to Jayce. He charges ahead. The game is fast, brutal, and relentless. Every player throws their weight into every move.

Midway through the second period, the score is tied. Frustration is setting in. I glance at the stands during a brief pause, catching a glimpse of Stacey. I haven’t seen her all day, and it hits me just how much I’ve missed her. She watches intently, her hands clasped in front of her as if she’s physically holding herself back from shouting instructions at me. I push harder, skating faster, digging deeper. When the puck comes my way, I drive it up the ice, dodging defenders left and right. A quick fake to the left throws their goalie off just enough. I fire a wrist shot into the top corner of the net.

The red light flashes. The crowd explodes. My teammates rush to me, smacking my helmet and shoulders, celebrating the goal.

As the third period begins, we’re ahead by one, but the other team isn’t letting up. They’re pressing hard. Their forwards crash the net every chance they get. I block a shot with my stick, the impact vibrating up my arms. They quickly clear the puck out of the zone.

With just minutes left, they pull their goalie, adding an extra skater to the ice. It’s chaos, bodies flying everywhere as they try to even the score. My pulse races. Every second feels like an eternity.

Finally, Jensen intercepts a pass and shoots the puck down the ice into their empty net. The buzzer sounds. We’ve won.

The team floods the ice. The crowd’s on their feet. My chest heaves as I catch my breath, but I can’t stop the grin spreading across my face.

In the stands I see Stacey up high, cheering, jumping up and down. With a start, I realize she’s not wearing a Night Hawks jersey… she’s wearing an old one from high school.

My old jersey.

The sight makes my heart hammer, but it’s not from the adrenaline of the game. Suddenly, she’s all I can focus on. All that matters. Breaking away from the team, I skate toward the boards, my eyes locking with Stacey’s as she moves from her spot with the other PTs to a closer area behind the penalty box to meet me.

“You kept it,” I say, loud enough for her to hear over the crowd.

She glances down at herself, then back at me with a small, almost shy smile.

“I didn’t have one of your new ones,” she says with a shrug, her voice just carrying over the noise. “And I wasn’t sure if I could wear it while I’m working.”

I shake my head, grinning. Pride swells up within me. I love seeing my old jersey on her. I’ve managed to keep the same number since high school, so it’s obvious to anyone watching that she’s wearing it for me. It’s thrilling that she’s staking her claim on me, even in this small way.

“You’re incredible,” I tell her.

Before she can respond, I toss my gloves and stick to the ice and reach up, pulling myself halfway over the boards. Her eyes widen in surprise, but she doesn’t back away as I lean in and kiss her.

The crowd erupts again, but this time it’s for us. Cameras flash all around, and I know this moment will be everywhere by tomorrow morning, but I don’t care.

Stacey pulls back slightly, her eyes searching mine. “Owen...”

“Let ’em look,” I say softly, smiling. “I’ve got nothing to hide anymore.”

The post-game energy is contagious. After the win, we shower, change, and head out to celebrate. The team has settled on a bar in downtown Nashville, a spot with a live band and enough room for us to blow off some steam. When we get there, the place is already packed. Jensen and Carson head for the bar and the rest of the guys scatter, some going to the dance floor, others mingling with the locals.

I stick close to Stacey, my hand brushing hers as we weave through the crowd. She looks so damn good in my old jersey and her tight jeans. Part of me doesn’t even want to bother with this bar. I just want to go back to the hotel and sneak into her room. Every time I glance at her, I’m hit with a fresh wave of desire that I have to keep in check so I don’t drag her to a dark corner.

It’s not long before we spot Grace and Skyler at a table near the back, laughing with another woman I don’t immediately recognize. She’s pretty, with long wavy blonde hair falling around her shoulders. As we approach, she turns her mossy green eyes our way. Her smile widens, and it’s more than the type of plain, polite smile you might get from a stranger — she seems genuinely happy to see us. As if we’re old friends already. Is she already drunk, or really that friendly?

“Hey!” Stacey greets the women, her voice rising to be heard over the noise. Grace grins and waves us over.

“Stacey! I want you to meet Rylee,” Grace says, motioning to the grinning blonde. “Rylee, this is Stacey and Owen. Rylee went to college with me and Sky.”

Rylee gives Stacey an energetic wave as she beams up at her.

“I’ve heard a lot about you!” she exclaims

Stacey smiles back, her posture relaxing. “All good things, I hope.”

“Mostly that you’re super smart, very sweet, and have an adorable little girl,” Rylee declares.

“All true,” Stacey chuckles.

Rylee pats the chair next to her. “Come and sit. Your boy-toy can join too, if he wants.”

“Be warned,” Skyler chirps. “Rylee’s already scared off Jensen and Carson.”

Grace nods and laughs. “Jensen hasn’t seen you since Miami, Ry. He wasn’t prepared to face all your crazy right off the bat.”

“And Carson didn’t stand a chance,” Skyler adds, beaming. “My poor baby…he never really believed the stories I told about you.”

Rylee snorts. “It’s not my fault you’ve both fallen in love with man-babies. Maybe Stacey’s guy can actually hang with the cool kids.”

“It’d probably be helpful if you didn’t rant about your on-again-off-again ex,” Grace suggests. “And, you know, declare that all men are pigs.”

Shrugging, Rylee replies, “All the men I date seem to be.”

“You know,” I pipe in. “I’m going to let you girls have some time.” I drop a kiss on Stacey’s head as she sits at their table. “I’ll be by the bar.”

Moving to the bar nearby, I order a beer and watch the girls from a distance. They seem to fall into easy conversation, and I smile, glad that Stacey is able to have a night of fun with her friends. As I’m leaning against the bar, my phone buzzes. I grab it and see that Elise is calling. With a sigh, I ignore the call. I don’t want to think about her or anything going on back in Canada tonight. There will be plenty of time to deal with all that later. After an hour or so passes, the music shifts to something slow and sultry, and I’ve decided I’ve shared her for long enough. Making my way back to their table, I lean over to whisper in Stacey’s ear.

“Dance with me.”

She looks up at me, her eyes wide, but she nods. I take her hand, leading her toward the dance floor.

The lights are dim and the music is pulsing. I pull Stacey close, my hands resting on her hips as she loops hers around my neck. Her body presses closer, her breath warm against my neck. I can feel the heat building between us. When she grinds her hips against me, I let out a low growl.

“You’re playing with fire,” I murmur, my voice rough.

She tilts her head to meet my gaze, a sly smile curving her lips. “Maybe I like the burn.”

It’s like a match striking against flint. The tension snaps, and I lean in, capturing her mouth with mine. The world around us disappears until it’s just the music, the heat of her body against mine, and the electric current running through my veins.

Someone whistles, but I don’t care. My hands tangle in her curly red strands, deepening the kiss. She melts into me, her fingers scratching against my neck, and I feel like I’m goddamn Superman. When we pull apart, her cheeks are flushed, her lips slightly swollen. She’s staring at me with clear hunger.

Fuck, this woman is going to make me lose my mind.

The song is just ending when Grace approaches us, her arm looped around a very unsteady Rylee.

“We’re heading out,” Grace says with a chuckle. “Someone had a little too much fun.”

Rylee giggles, leaning into Grace’s shoulder. “I regret nothing! You lightweights are just jealous that I can go shot-for-shot with every guy in this place!”

“Let’s not test that theory, okay babe?” Grace says, patting Rylee’s cheek affectionately. “We need to get you home before you start puking everywhere.”

“I’m not gonna puke,” Rylee insists with a wave of her hand, her words slurring. The next moment, she burps and presses her fist to her mouth.

Stacey laughs, stepping forward to hug them both. “Yeah, I think it’s time to get her home. I’m glad we got to hang out. I’ll see you when you get back to Denver.”

“Yeah, I’m glad Sky and I decided to stay an extra day,” Grace says, glancing at Rylee with a grin. “We’ll get to hang out more after Drunky McDrunkerson gets over her hangover.” She looks back at Stacey, raising a brow. “Still flying home tomorrow?”

Stacey nods. “Thankfully, Lilah was able to spend the night with Millie. I’d have had to take the red eye home tonight otherwise.”

Grace wiggles her brows as she looks between me and Stacey. “Well then, you two kids have fun, okay? We’ll talk to you when we’re home.”

Stacey chuckles and wraps her arm around mine, squeezing it. “Sounds good.”

“Are you two done chattering?” Rylee asks loudly, drawing our attention back to her. “If you wanna make out so bad, just do it!”

Grace sighs and shakes her head. “All right, time to get her out of here. You good if Skyler and I both take off with her?”

Stacey nods, smiling. “I’ll be fine. You get Rylee home in one piece, okay?”

Skyler snorts, coming up behind Grace and giving Rylee an amused once-over. “Piece is the operative word. She’s hanging by a thread.”

“I’m fine!” Rylee insists. “Look, look, look! I’ll prove it.”

She slips out of Grace’s hold and stands up straight, raising her arms on either side of her. I bite back a laugh when she starts to touch her pointer fingers to her nose, one at a time, like a field sobriety test. She manages to touch every part of her face but her nose, but when she’s done, she throws her hands in the air like a gymnast who just nailed a trick.

“Ta-da!” Rylee raises her chin, looking very pleased with herself. “Fucking perfect!”

Grinning and shaking her head, Grace reaches out to grab hold of one of Rylee’s hands.

“Yes, you did amazing,” she agrees. “Total champ at convincing us you’re not shit-faced. Let’s get you home to celebrate, yeah?”

Rylee’s green eyes suddenly go wide and she excitedly shouts, “Oh! Let’s get pizza. Have a pizza party! Come on, we’ve gotta order it before all the pizza stores close!”

She breaks free from Grace and stumbles toward the door, giggling. Grace and Skyler rush after her to try and catch her. Just as they reach the exit, the door swings open and Zander walks in.

“Hey, there he is!” I call out, raising a hand. Zander had dipped after the game to meet up with a relative who lives in the area, but had promised to meet up with us after.

Zander spots me and smiles, but before he can respond, Rylee — utterly oblivious — takes one wobbly step too close and bumps right into him. For a second, everything seems to freeze. Both of them stare into one another’s eyes silently.

Then, without warning, Rylee lurches forward and throws up all over Zander’s shoes and the front of his pants.

The bar goes quiet, but I can’t help it — I start laughing. Hard.

Rylee hiccups, swaying on her feet as she peers back up at Zander with glassy eyes.

“Oops… sorry.” She sniffs, then wrinkles her nose. “You smell. You should shower.”

Zander’s face twists into a look of pure rage, and I think he might actually lose it. I’ve never seen him blow up on anyone before off the ice — he’s way too good-natured and friendly. Grace jumps in, hands raised in apology before he can lay into Rylee.

“I am so, so sorry,” she says quickly. “She’s really drunk. We’re taking her home now.”

“Good idea,” Zander grunts out, his jaw tight.

Skyler’s already dragging Rylee toward the door, muttering something about her uncanny ability to make bad situations worse. Rylee just hiccups again and waves lazily over her shoulder.

“Bye, Big Guy! Don’t forget to shower!”

The door swings shut behind them, leaving Zander standing there in his ruined pants and shoes, looking like he’s on the verge of spontaneous combustion. I cautiously make my way up to him.

“You okay there, bud?” I ask, trying to keep a straight face. Stacey has her hand slapped over her mouth, trying her best not to laugh.

Zander’s murderous glare shifts to me. “Not a word.”

I hold up my hands in mock surrender, but the smirk tugging at my lips is impossible to hide.

Zander mutters something under his breath, then storms right back out the door without another word. It’s not clear if he’s leaving for real or going back to his relative’s house to get a change of clothes, but he’s clearly not happy with the vomitous entrance he just received.

Stacey stares at him walking out the door, wide-eyed. “Well, that escalated quickly. I’ve never seen him actually get angry like that before.”

I chuckle, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Me either. That Rylee seems to have a special talent.”

“I don’t know if I’d call puking all over someone a talent,” Stacey says with a shake of her head, though there’s a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

“Come on, did you see that aim?” I laugh. “She only hit Zander. That’s skill.”

She grins up at me. “You’re so stupid.”

Dropping my head, I capture her lips with mine in a hungry kiss.

“I’d let you puke all over me any time, baby.”

She wrinkles up her nose. “Ew, gross. That’s nasty.”

“That’s love.” I give her a wink and sweep her back into my arms, spinning her on the dance floor as she clutches my shoulders and laughs.