Page 33

Roman

“ W e’ll get ‘em next year,” Noah says, slinging an arm around my shoulder like we hadn’t recently had our hearts ripped out on the ice. “Hell of a season, rookie.”

He holds up his beer with a proud grin, and I tap mine against his. “Yeah,” I say. Shit, losing game five to Montreal still stings like hell, but we fought hard. That’s something.

“Vegas, baby!” Jaxon bellows from behind us. I turn just in time to catch him grinning ear to ear, a girl I don’t recognize tucked under his arm like a trophy. Vegas. Right. Taylor and Elias’s upcoming wedding, and a party everyone is looking forward to after playoffs.

Gabby and I hadn’t talked much about it, about the fact that there’s no way in hell she’ll set foot in the Hart Hotel again.

And I get it. I do. After everything that happened, I wouldn’t ask her to.

So yeah, I’m going solo. But it’s more than that.

If she’s not by my side, the trip is going to be long and brutal.

But I can’t not go. This is Elias and Taylor we’re talking about.

My eyes drift around the pool deck until I spot Gabby laughing in the water with Stella, her face lit up under the string of lights and I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips.

God, she’s beautiful when she lets herself have fun.

Ever since she came out with us to Kilting Around and realized her world wouldn’t collapse—her ex nowhere in sight—she’s been relaxed more. Letting herself belong.

There’s been a lot of whispering between her and Maeve lately and a lot of texting…with someone. Maybe it has something to do with book club. Or maybe something else. Whatever it is, it suits her. She seems really happy and I love that.

As for her ex. I don’t ask. Don’t need to.

She’s not texting him, and even if I don’t know who she is texting, I trust her.

I’ve never felt this steady with anyone before.

Still, I know the ache she carries. She misses her parents, and I know her visit with them in California when I’m in Vegas is going to be good for her.

But that’s not the only visit she’s looking forward to.

Nolan’s flying in tomorrow. I’ve been dodging it for long enough, but the truth is, I’m done hiding what Gabby and I have.

I want my brother to meet her, to seeus.

Yeah, he’ll probably drag up the past and remind me of every fight my parents ever had.

But I’m not them. We’re not them. He’ll get that. He has to.

“Rara.” Stella’s voice breaks through my thoughts. She waves at me with a cheeky smile and water droplets shining on her long lashes. She’s a combination of Tanner and Maeve. If Gabby and I had a child, I’d want it to look like her.

“You coming in?” Gabby asks.

“Yeah,” I say, setting down my beer. “I’m coming.”

Zoe and Camryn run to the edge of the pool and cannonball, soaking me. Gabby tosses her head back in laughter, and when Zoe and Camryn come up, they’re both laughing too.

“I guess I don’t need to get in now.” I point to them. “You two better watch out,” I warn teasingly, but they swim off and ignore me.

I wipe the water from my face and sink into the lounge chair, the cushion still warm from the sun.

Around me, laughter rolls through the air like background music to the perfect day.

Noah tosses more food onto the barbecue, flames licking upward as the smell of burgers starts to drift across the rooftop pool area. I tip my head back, let it all soak in.

This. Right here. This is home. My chosen family, every last one of them. I must be the luckiest bastard alive. Theo walks by and grunts something my way. We’re all secretly happy that he’s being traded. I raise an eyebrow but don’t bother asking what his problem is. I’m too damn content to care.

My phone pings, and I fish it out of my pocket.

It’s Nolan. We go back and forth for a few minutes, and I can’t help but smile.

I miss the guy. It’s been too long. And I can’t wait for him to meet Gabby.

They didn’t really cross paths back home.

He was younger, trailing a couple grades behind us.

But there’s no doubt in my mind they’ll click.

I want them to. I want him to see what I see when I look at her.

I want him to see that the pattern can be broken.

Mom and Dad always blamed their fights on stress.

For Gabs and me, it hasn’t been like that behind closed doors.

We’ve been in hiding, under a tremendous amount of stress after she lost everything, the ghost of her past still lingering in the shadows.

We didn’t fight. We united, dug in, fought hard for each other… made love.

Guilt niggles at my gut. Did I do wrong by him? Make him as jaded as me? If I did, I need to fix that. I want him to find what I’ve found. I want him to be happy. To break the pattern and realize that behind closed doors, it can be good. Really good.

Ash drops down beside me with a groan, pulling his cap over his face. The poor guy looks like he’s been through battle. I guess fatherhood will do that to you. Still, there’s a calmness to him now. Like everything has meaning.

Across the patio, I spot Ash’s father Grant cradling little Grant Jr., rocking him gently. There’s a gleam in the older man’s eyes, pride, love, maybe even awe, and something about the scene grips me harder than I expect.

What would my parents be like as grandparents?

Sure, in public they’d be perfect. Polished. Camera-ready. They’d throw parties with engraved invitations and matching gift bags. Behind closed doors would be a different story, and while I’d want my child to know them, I don’t want them to see that life.

Am I really thinking about kids now?

Shit. I don’t even know what I’m thinking.

All I know is, the idea of building something real, something better, with Gabby doesn’t scare me.

It feels… right. Her ex had done a number on her, and left her broken.

I wasn’t sure I could be the guy who fixed things.

I’ve never been the guy to stick around, to put someone back together, to become a part of their healing.

That was commitment, and commitment is what I’ve always run from.

But the truth of it all is this, it was Gabby who put me back together, who helped me heal from the chaos of my childhood. Taylor waddles over, her belly leading the way, and lets out a theatrical groan as she works to lower herself beside me.

“Need a hand?” I reach out to steady her.

“Thank you,” she breathes, settling in. Then she grabs my hand and presses it to her stomach.

I blink. “Wait—what?—”

Before I can finish, I feel it. A thump. Then another. Like a little heartbeat trying to get my attention. My jaw drops.

“This one’s going to be a soccer player,” she says proudly.

“Not if Elias has anything to say about it,” I shoot back, still a little stunned. “Or me.”

She laughs and throws her hands up. “I don’t stand a chance, do I?”

“None. We’re a hockey family. Always have been. Always will be.”

She gives me a look, one brow raised. “And what if he wants to dance? Or play the cello? Maybe follow his granddad into politics?”

I shake my head, grinning. “Nope. Hockey.”

She laughs, but I catch that twinkle in her eye. And for a moment, I wonder—what if itwasme someday? A little one kicking inside Gabby’s belly. A life we made together. Yeah. That future doesn’t feel so far away anymore.

Taylor laughs, one hand resting on her belly like she’s already protecting her future from the chaos we’re all bound to cause. “What if you and Gabby have a boy, and he wants to be a designer like her? You’d want him to follow his dreams… right?”

I let out a short breath, caught off guard by the question. “I mean… yeah. Of course.”

But my voice trails off, because my gaze has already drifted to Gabby.

She’s standing by the pool, hair damp, cheeks flushed, eyes soft as she talks with Maeve and Stella.

And right then, it hits me like a punch to the gut—the truth of it.

I don’t just want a life with her. I want a future where she’s doing what she loves.

Where she doesn’t have to shrink herself to fit someone else's expectations. Including mine.

“Everyone should follow their dreams,” I say quietly.

“Exactly,” Taylor replies. And when I look at her, she’s not looking at me—she’s watching Gabby, a thoughtful smile playing on her lips. Like she knows something I don’t.

Is that what she’s trying to say? That Gabby’s not living the life she really wants? God. I know that. I’ve just been too afraid to ask what it would mean—forus—if she ever started chasing it again.

“Who wants a burger?” Noah calls, snapping the tension like a twig.

Taylor tries to hoist herself out of the lounge chair with an exaggerated grunt, and I reach out without thinking, helping her up.

“Thanks,” she says, then adds more seriously, “I’m disappointed Gabby’s not coming to the wedding… but I get it.”

My stomach tightens. I haven’t said a word about it, but clearly Gabby has. I think maybe a part of me was hoping she’d change her mind, but that’s selfish thinking.

She stretches her back with a little groan, then slips her arm through mine like we’re family. Because somehow, we are.

“Come on,” she teases, bumping her belly gently against my side. “Let’s not keep this baby from its hamburger. He’s definitely inherited his dad’s appetite.”

We head toward the grill where Noah’s got a rhythm going, flipping patties and handing them off faster than a short-order cook on a holiday weekend.

The kids swarm like seagulls, grabbing burgers and hot dogs, ignoring every green thing in sight as they collapse into seats with ketchup-streaked smiles and sticky fingers.