Page 6 of Pucking Tangled

SIX

Mia

Someone queued up a country playlist and Warren Zanders’ Relapse played across the smart devices downstairs. Mia found herself humming along while she rinsed the last of the dinner plates.

Male laughter echoed from the living room, making her feel an odd sense of warmth and fuzzy vibrations in her belly.

Dinner with the guys went better than expected. Especially considering the fact that she was still trying to convince herself that she wasn’t making a huge mistake by moving in with a bunch of hockey players.

The way they all gathered around the table and feasted on the meal she cooked for them was almost nostalgic of the dinners she had at the Novak house growing up—when all of Casey’s friends would come over. She should have been used to being the only girl among the boys by now.

“How about I dry?” Owen moved beside her with a towel already in his hand .

Mia wasn’t the least bit surprised. He was always the helper. The one who couldn’t stand still when there was still something left to be done.

“If I had known you did dishes too, I would have waited a little longer before I got started,” she teased.

“What can I say? I try to be a well-rounded guy.” He smiled and playfully swatted at her with the towel. “Besides, Casey’s too busy defending his honor in the living room.”

Mia’s face scrunched in confusion. “Defending his honor?”

“Someone made the mistake of saying your mashed potatoes were ‘dangerously delicious’. Casey took it as a personal insult.”

She tossed her head back and laughed. “He can be so dramatic sometimes.”

“True,” a familiar voice cut in from behind them. “But I stand by what I said in there.”

Casey leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, lips tipped in a smirk. His curls were a mess from where he had been dragging a hand through them. A gesture she knew well. One he did when he was doing too much thinking.

“Creamy potatoes, perfect garlic chicken, veggies steamed just right,” he sighed, dramatically. “I’ve been replaced.”

Mia gasped. “You cook for them? You’ve never cooked for me.”

“I brought you soup that time you had the flu.”

“From Chick Fil A.”

“It was still damn good chicken noodle soup.”

Owen let out a soft chuckle and dried another plate. “He’s just mad because you impressed the guys in under an hour. ”

“Maybe that was my goal.” She smiled. “Or maybe, I just didn’t want to starve.”

“Either way, you’ve raised the bar now. Don’t be surprised if Waylon or Luca try to marry you by the time the playoffs are over.

Her breath hitched for just a second. She highly doubted there would be any marriage happening in this house. “What happened to rule number 1?”

“Doesn’t say anything about marriage. Only hook-ups,” Casey said, sliding past her to get to Owen. His fingers brushed against her arm, just briefly, but she caught the tiny shift in his expression. The way his smile twitched before turning into something softer.

It felt familiar. But different too.

“You were pretty quiet at dinner. That’s not like you,” she said, watching him as he stood on the other side of Owen.

“Tired from practice,” he replied a little too quickly.

Owen glanced between them, like maybe he sensed something, but he didn’t press. “I’m going to the bathroom,” he said, handing Casey the dish towel. “Don’t let her do all the work.”

“Bossy,” Mia playfully called after him.

“Captain,” he corrected smoothly over his shoulder, disappearing with a grin.

Casey leaned a hip against the counter and watched her finish rinsing a pan. “You didn’t have to cook. We were all just joking when we said you could make dinner sometimes.”

“I wanted to,” she said, keeping her tone light. “It felt... normal. Like home.” The words slipped from her lips before she even had a chance to stop them.

Casey’s face lit up. “It feels like home? ”

She paused and bit her lip. Stupid word vomit. “Uhm, I’m not sure yet. It helps that there are a few familiar faces”

“You mean my sexy mug?” He winked.

Mia side-eyed him. “And Owen. Luca and Waylon are growing on me, a little.”

“That quick, huh?”

“Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite,” she teased, handing him the now-clean pan and bumping his shoulder.

He didn’t take it right away.

Instead, he looked at her—really looked at her—studying her in a way that made her breath quicken and her heart skip a beat. Not like he was seeing his best friend or roommate. Something else flickered in his gaze. Something she couldn’t put her finger on.

“What?” she asked, clearing her throat.

“You’re different here with us,” he said quietly.

Mia blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s not a bad thing. I promise.” He took the pan and dried it before putting it away. “It’s like you’re more…confident and relaxed at the same time. Either that or you’re just getting better at pretending.”

Ouch. Shots fired from her bestie.

She picked up a dishrag and busied herself wiping down the kitchen counters. “I haven’t really had much of a choice with school and everything. It was either sink or swim.”

“Mia, you’ve always swam,” he whispered.

She glanced at her best friend. “It helps when you’ve got someone who’s always believed you could.”

He shrugged like it was no big deal, being one of her biggest cheerleaders and confidants, but his jaw was tight.

Unspoken words and emotions hung in the air between them. The kind that came with decades of friendship. History. Shared secrets and family vacations.

But a strange new current seemed to brew between them.

She wondered if it was the newness of their current situation. Or the fact that they were suddenly living under the same roof. Or maybe it had something to do with Owen—sweet, steady Owen—who was now part of the equation in a way she hadn’t let herself fully process.

Could Casey feel it too?

“You’re staring,” she said finally.

Casey didn’t flinch, didn’t advert his gaze. “Am I not allowed to look at my best friend?”

“Not like that.”

His lips parted, then closed again. “Like what, Mia?”

She hung the dishrag on the sink and dried her hands before leaning on the opposite counter and crossing her arms over her chest. “Like you’re seeing me for the first time.”

Casey didn’t speak at first.

He continued studying her. His eyes flicked over her face like maybe he was trying to remember every detail.

“I’m trying not to mess everything up,” Casey finally confessed.

“Mess what up?”

“Everything. With you. With Owen.”

Mia raised a brow. “I don’t think you are.”

“God. I hope not. It’s just…” He blew out a breath. “I’ve missed this. Missed having you around all the time. I know we’ve both got our own lives. I’m busy, you’re busy…”

Her heart thumped louder. “Me too,” she whispered. “Text messages and the occasional phone call and random visits weren’t the same.” She smiled sadly .

Casey snorted. “Not at all.”

Silence stretched between them again. And then, as if on cue, Owen popped back into the kitchen and cleared his throat. “Uhm. So, we need you to come settle a bet, Casey.”

His gaze snapped to his boyfriend. “What’s the bet?”

“Luca doesn’t believe that you once kissed a goalie on a dare.”

“Who did you kiss?” Mia asked wide-eyed.

Casey groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It was a long time ago. College. Spring break. He…nevermind.”

“You never told me that story.”

“I was hoping to take it to my grave.” He glared at his boyfriend.

“Too late,” Owen smirked. “Waylon’s already googling goalie rosters.”

“Well. Sounds like you better go set them straight.”

He gave her a reluctant nod. “You good here?”

“Almost finished. I’m fine. You go.”

Casey lingered, with Owen watching, just long enough to make her wonder if there was something more he wanted to say. Then he turned and jogged toward the living room. “Yes, I kissed a goalie. Worst two seconds of my life. I don’t even remember his name!” he shouted playfully.

Mia put both hands on the counter and took a deep breath.

What the heck was going on in this house?

Why did she feel so…

Confused?

Hopeful?

Thank goodness they guys were leaving for round one of the playoffs in the morning.