Page 31

THIRTY-ONE

This road trip has been brutal, and we’ve barely been gone twenty-four hours. We flew into Calgary yesterday afternoon, and I spent the entire night replaying a post-game interview from Knolls. His words keep looping in my head, and even now, during morning skate, they cling to my thoughts. I push myself harder, pumping my legs like I can outskate them.

“You have your last match of the season coming up against the Saints. Should we expect more on-ice tension between you and Ryan Logan?”

He laughs sarcastically before answering. “Probably. If he knew how to stay in his lane, we wouldn’t have a problem. But he doesn’t, so we do.”

“There are rumors that your fiancée left you for him. Do you have a comment?”

“Everything will work out as it should when we’re all in the same place.”

This is the part I can’t get over. What the hell does that even mean? When are we all going to be in the same place? I try to brush it off, but my thoughts circle back to the contract extension I’m still waiting for and the looming trade deadline.

“Is there a possibility of reconciliation between you and your ex-fiancée? Fans are speculating about your lowered stats being driven by your split.”

Ha, I can’t help but feel a little smug about that. I’m sure it grates on him that the breakup messed with his game more than he expected.

“Hannah isn’t to be blamed for my less-than-stellar goal score. There’s a lot going on behind the scenes, but I know it’ll smooth itself out soon. Fans can rest assured I’ll have my good luck charm back in my corner.” He winks at the camera.

No, he most definitely will not… I hope.

When we’re all in the same place. His cocky tone echoes in my mind unhelpfully. I stop hard enough to send ice shavings flying and bend over, resting my hands on my knees to catch my breath.

I need to get my head in the game, but uncertainty throbs in my head like a relentless headache. Every time I hit the ice, I wonder if it’ll be my last—my last morning skate, my last practice, my last game with the Saints. I’m questioning if I’ve done enough, if I really belong here, if I still have time to prove I do.

And it’s not just the game. Off the ice, my thoughts gnaw at me, too. What would happen if I had to leave Chicago? Hannah just got settled here; her life is finally coming together. We’re just coming together. How would we work if I’m shipped off to another city? It’s not like we haven’t been apart before, but this feels different. For the first time in a long while, it feels like I have something to lose, and that makes the unknown all the more terrifying.

The interview was just the cherry on top of my already spiraling-thought sundae.

I knew Knolls’ recent silence was too good to be true. He’s clearly becoming desperate in his pursuit, though what he’s after is still a mystery to me. Does he want Hannah back? Is he just trying to stir up trouble for me? Does he simply crave attention?

I’ve accepted that they have history, but that’s all it is: history. I’m Hannah’s future.

Fuck, I just want to get home to her.

We head home with yet another loss under our belts, but I’m too worn out to care. After barely sleeping last night, pushing myself too hard at morning skate, and playing tonight’s game like it was my last, I’m running on empty. The moment I drop into the leather seat on the team plane and close my eyes, exhaustion takes over, and I’m out.

When I wake to the rumbling of the plane descending into Chicago, every muscle is stiff and uncomfortable. I’m still in my post-game suit, now wrinkled from the flight, but at least I saved myself hours of sitting around and ruminating. As soon as my phone reconnects, I shoot Hannah a quick text.

Me:

Just touched down in Chicago. I’ll be home in an hour.

She doesn’t respond, but it’s late, so I’m not surprised. She’s probably fast asleep by now. Would she welcome me into her bed? All I want is to lie beside her, to hold her, and to reassure myself that everything is all right.

My assumption was wrong. As I enter the house, trying to make as little noise as possible, I’m startled to find Hannah pacing the foyer. Her arms are crossed tightly over her chest, and when her eyes meet mine, they hold a mix of relief and tension.

Without a word, I open my arms to her. She rushes forward, burying herself against me, and melts. For a brief moment, everything else fades away. The anxiety, the frustration, and the uncertainty all dissolve the moment I’m near her. Everything is right in the world.

“Ryan, what he said is not true. I haven’t been in contact with him. I haven’t talked to him since All-Star Weekend. I don’t know why he said those things.” Her voice is shaky, and I hate it.

I didn’t think she even saw the interview or considered how she might react to his insinuation of them getting back together. Before she can say anything more, I cut her off by bringing my lips to hers. It’s meant to be a gentle kiss, but once we connect, it turns into something hot and needy. I pull back just enough to speak against her lips. “Shhh, it’s okay, baby. I know.”

As soon as I get the words out, she eagerly brings her lips back to mine.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I manage to get out between kisses.

She shakes her head. “I need you. Now,” she pants.

That does me in. I’m helpless to deny her anything she wants. A groan escapes my throat as I spin, pressing her against the front door. Her leg hitches over my hip as I grind my body against hers, the heat between us unbearable in the best way.

A breathy whimper escapes her as she pushes my suit jacket from my shoulders, and I help her shrug it off. The foyer is filled with nothing but our heavy breaths and the rustle of fabric. My lips trail down her throat, tasting her skin as I let my teeth graze her, her sharp intake of breath spurring me on.

My hand travels up her leg, my fingers brushing over nothing but smooth skin until I reach the thin band at her hips. She’s wearing only panties under one of my black T-shirts. The thought of her sleeping in my clothes tightens my chest. I groan into her neck, my control slipping even further.

Her movements are frantic and jerky as she reaches for my belt buckle. My cock aches, straining against the fabric, and the moment she frees me from my boxer briefs and strokes me lightly, I mutter a curse.

I lift her higher, bringing her lips back to mine in a kiss that’s all desperation and need. I lick over her plush bottom lip, seeking entrance, and when she grants it, I stroke my tongue across hers. My free hand slides beneath her T-shirt, cupping her breast and teasing her nipple. A needy sound escapes as she grinds against me, the heat of her soaking through the fabric of her panties and my shirt.

I slide my hand down her body, slipping between her thighs. My fingers press against her clit through the soaked fabric, circling but never applying the pressure I know she wants. “You’re so wet, baby.”

“I need you inside me, now.” Her tone is filled with both frustration and want.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Let me get you ready.”

“I’m ready. I want to come with you inside me,” she insists, her words undo me.

I pull her panties to the side, searching for bare skin. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the bed? With it being our first time and all. I want it to be perfect for you,” I manage, my voice thick.

A soft laugh escapes her. “This is perfect. I promise.” She reaches down, her hand wrapping around me, positioning me where she wants me. The contact makes me hiss through my teeth.

I take over, running the head of my cock over her clit until she’s writhing against me, her nails digging into my shoulders. I’m about to push in when a thought cuts through the haze of lust. “Shit. Condom.”

“Do we need one? You’ve had your physical. I got checked after him and haven’t been with anyone else.”

Thank fuck she didn’t say his name. I couldn’t bear the thought of his presence intruding on this moment any further. “Birth control?” Even as I ask, I know it doesn’t matter to me. I want this woman in my arms to be my wife. I want a family with her. Is now the ideal time? Probably not, but I wouldn’t be opposed either. Slow your roll.

She nods. “IUD.”

I crush my mouth to hers but push into her slowly, inch by inch. It takes every ounce of my self-control not to thrust in hard and fast. When I’m fully seated inside her, I grind my jaw, willing myself to last longer than sixty seconds. Make her come first , repeats in my head like a prayer.

“Ryan, please move.”

“You’re so fucking tight, baby. I’m trying to stay in control,” I grit out.

“I don’t want you in control.”

I shift my hips, keeping my thrusts shallow and grinding against her as our hips meet. Her body tightens and trembles as her breathing grows ragged.

“You feel so good,” I groan. “Your pussy is gripping me. You’re close, aren’t you, baby?”

She moans, her lips brushing mine as she nods.

“You’re it for me, you know that, right?” I can’t help but speak the words that have been in my head for as long as I can remember.

The worry that this moment might not be romantic enough, that it might not be perfect enough, fades from the back of my mind. It’s us . Of course, it’s right. It could never be wrong.

“You’re it for me, too,” she mumbles, lost in sensation and looking as blissed out as I feel.

Her body grips me tightly as she cries out. The feel of her pulsing around me sends me over the edge with her.

My forehead presses against hers as I breathe heavily, trying to keep us upright despite my shaky legs. I kiss her softly, over and over, not wanting the moment to end.

Too soon, she wiggles, signaling for me to put her down. Reluctantly, I pull out and set her gently on her feet. I tug her shirt back into place, then wrap my arms around her and hold her close. She nestles into my chest as I press tender kisses along the side of her head.

“Can we go upstairs now?”

She laughs into my chest. “Yeah, let’s go.”

“Should we talk about the elephant in the room?” I ask, turning toward Hannah in bed.

“I know you’re big… but elephant may be an overstatement.” She’s barely able to contain her giggle.

“Oh no, you didn’t.” I tickle her naked skin until we’re both breathless.

“Okay, okay, okay, I forfeit. I take it back. Please, please,” she chants, continuing to squirm.

“I prefer when you’re begging me to make you come.”

I lower myself until I can rest my head on her belly, her skin smelling like a mixture of us both.

She lazily strokes my hair. “Why do you think he said those things? You know they aren’t true, right?”

“Yeah, I know. I have no idea what he’s up to. I wish I knocked him out the last time we faced off. I’m fully prepared to take a game suspension the next time we play Dallas.”

“I know I should discourage this, but I also want to punch him.”

“Are you okay?” I ask.

Her fingers pause in my hair, and I swear I can feel her hesitation. “I don’t know. He broke up with me, and now he’s what… wanting to get back together? Isn’t he dating that model?”

A pang tightens my chest, sharp and gnawing. I shake off the thought of her even considering going back to him before it can take root. She wouldn’t, right? I tilt my head to catch her gaze, needing to hear it from her. “You’re not thinking about that, are you?”

Her eyes widen, and her jaw drops as she shakes her head, but then her gaze softens. “Of course not. Not even a little. I would never go back to him, even if you and I didn’t end up here. But now even more so.” She resumes running her fingers through my hair. “I hate that he’s going to be there on Friday. I know the gala was the end goal of this whole faking-it ruse, but the thought of seeing him again makes me an anxious mess. I can’t shake the feeling that he’s up to something.”

I move up her body until I’m lying beside her, pulling her close against me.

That may have been the end goal when we came up with this plan, but my end goal has always been set further ahead. Her . She’s my end goal.

She’s the one I want to kiss good night and good morning. The one I want to talk to after perfect days and shitty ones. The one I want to call mine today and sixty years from now. She’s it.

There’s no denying what I want, and there’s only one thing to do about it: make it official. All that’s left is to ask her to be mine, for real.

It has to be perfect. Hannah deserves the best, and I’m determined to give it to her. But first, we need to get through the gala and whatever shit Knolls is surely going to send our way. I won’t let the day I ask her to be mine be tainted by Knolls’ shadow hanging over us.

“Ry.” Her soft voice, coupled with her hand grazing my chest, brings my eyes back in focus—back to her.

“We’ll get through it,” I promise.