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CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

before

RHETT

Three Years Earlier

Austin, TX, USA

By the time I finally get her out of the Randall’s Tavern parking lot and back to my apartment, Caroline is more giggles than words, leaning most of her weight into me as I unlock the door and guide her inside.

“Easy,” I murmur, catching her elbow before she stumbles.

She waves me off with a lazy smile. “I’m fine,” she mumbles. “Just… gravity. Gravity’s the problem.”

I bite back a laugh, steering her toward my room so I can grab her a T-shirt and a spare toothbrush from the bathroom. When I turn around from the dresser, she’s already toeing off her heels, grumbling to herself as she drops down onto the edge of my bed.

“Here,” I say gently, handing her the toothbrush. “And I brought you this to change into.” I hold up the Storm T-shirt .

Her eyes light up. “Oh my God,” she slurs softly, dragging the soft cotton through her fingers. “This is so comfortable.”

I smile despite myself. “I’m glad you approve.”

I head into the kitchen for a minute so she can change in privacy, and when I walk back in the room, her hair is static and wild from yanking the T-shirt over her head.

“What’s the thread count on these sheets?” she asks, falling back dramatically into the pillows.

“A lot,” I say, grabbing the comforter and pulling it over her. “Don’t worry, they’re clean.”

I smooth the hair from her face, my fingers brushing her flushed cheek. “You okay?” I murmur.

She nods, blinking up at me. Her voice is soft, small. “Can you stay until I fall asleep?”

I don’t hesitate. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Her lashes flutter. “Rhett?”

“Yeah, Cub?”

“Have you ever thought about kissing me?”

I huff a soft laugh, sitting beside her on the edge of the mattress. “Only every day for the last three years.”

Her brows lift. “Why haven’t you tried?”

“Because,” I say carefully, dragging a hand through my hair, “you’ve never let me get close enough.

And if I ever get that from you—I’m gonna earn it.

I’ve waited too long to screw it up by taking advantage when you’re not sober enough to even remember it happened.

If I ever get to kiss you, I’m gonna know when you kiss me back, you mean it. ”

Her eyes search mine. “You’re sweet.”

I smile faintly. “You’re so drunk.”

She laughs, the sound soft and sleepy, then whispers, “Tell me a secret.”

I blink down at her. “A secret? ”

“Yeah. Something deep and dark. What keeps you up at night?”

I exhale, sinking down to my elbow next to her. “You really wanna know?”

She grins. “No, I was just kidding.”

Her eyes glitter playfully as she side-eyes me. “Of course I want to know. Duh. That’s why I asked.”

I chuckle. “Still a smartass when you’re inebriated, I see.”

“Tell me,” she presses, voice softening. “What are you most afraid of? Besides me.”

I glance down, my thumb absently tracing the stitching on the comforter.

“That one day I’ll get everything I’ve ever wanted,” I murmur, “and I’ll find a way to ruin it. That I’ll be left with nothing.”

The words come out quieter than I mean them to.

She blinks, sobering a little. “What do you want?”

I exhale slowly. “I don’t even know anymore,” I admit. “My greatest dream for as long as I can remember was playing in the NHL. I got that… and I nearly destroyed it before it even began.”

She shifts onto her side, propping her head on her hand. “But you didn’t,” she says simply.

I look at her, dry amusement tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Almost did.”

“But you didn’t,” she repeats, firmer this time. “You figured it out. And now you’re the captain of your team.”

I glance away. “Not off to a fantastic start, though, am I?”

She smiles faintly. “Could be worse.”

Her voice is so steady it calms something restless in my chest.

“You’ll find your stride,” she says. “You always do. And you’ll make it look easy.”

I smile down at the comforter. “And then you’ll have to hate me even more. ”

Her eyes narrow—then she giggles. The sound is soft, loose, unguarded.

“What else?” she murmurs after a moment.

My brows knit. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been in the NHL for a decade. That can’t be the only thing you’re worried about. What do you want, Rhett? What’s the thing you’re so scared to mess up?”

I hesitate. She asked for deepest and darkest. So I give it to her.

“I’d like to have a family one day,” I say quietly.

She tilts her head. “What’s so scary about that?”

I run my thumb across my knuckles, voice soft. “Because if I wasn’t wired to be the captain of a hockey team, I’m definitely not wired to be someone’s husband. Or someone’s father. Not a good one anyway.”

She studies me for a long moment, her eyes soft. “You know you get to decide who you want to be, right?” she says. “No one is born anything. You have your whole life to become someone. There’s no cutoff date for it. No deadline.”

Her words are so simple. So true. They hit something inside me.

I stare at her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks softly.

“I just never know what to expect from you,” I admit.

She smiles. “You know what?”

“What, Cub?”

“I think I want to get married too. One day.”

I raise my brows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says, her voice thoughtful. “I’ve spent so long focused on my career and proving myself that… I don’t know. It’s almost like I thought I wasn’t allowed to want that too. Like it went against everything I’ve been building.”

“You can have both,” I say softly .

“Maybe,” she whispers.

I shake my head. “No maybe about it. If you ever let someone make you a wife, that guy will be the luckiest bastard in the world.”

Her eyes drift closed, her breathing evening out. Just as I think she’s asleep, she murmurs, “Rhett?”

“Yeah, Cub?”

“I think you’d be a pretty good husband.”

Something tugs sharp in my chest.

“You really think so?” I whisper.

Her voice is barely audible now. “You’ll find the right girl.”

I sit there in the quiet, watching her fall asleep.

“Yeah,” I murmur. “Hopefully she’s not too far.”