Page 55 of The Rule Breaker (Colton U Playbook #1)

RYAN

Logan slaps me on the back as he skates by. “Hell yeah! That last pass was a fucking masterpiece.”

Austin’s already looking for the postgame snacks, clearly more concerned about his stomach than the victory, but I can’t blame him. We all earned a good meal after that game.

“You killed it,” Nathan says, slapping me on my back. It’s been less tense between us since the family dinner, and honestly… I missed my friend.

“Thanks, man, you too,” I reply.

He turns and skates over to his family. His mom’s cheering from the stands, his dad pulling him into a hug, and his sister’s there too. I feel a weird kind of twist in my stomach.

I look up at the crowd, searching… for what? I don’t know, but I’m not expecting to see anyone since I?—

I blink, my heart stopping for a split second. No way. What the hell?

But there she is. My mom is in the stands, smiling down at me like she hasn’t in… fuck, years. And it’s not just her—my dad’s there too. Right beside her.

What the hell is going on?

I feel my legs freeze for a moment, my mind scrambling to process it all. I’ve been busting my ass to get their attention for years, and I can’t remember the last time they were at one of my hockey games. And now… now they’re here? For me?

I push through the confusion and start heading toward them.

When I finally reach them, I’m not sure what to expect. A polite nod? An awkward pat on the back? But my mom surprises me. She’s smiling. Like… she’s actually proud.

There’s something else in her eyes, too. A mix of guilt and something close to regret, maybe. Or maybe I’m imagining that part.

“Great game, Ryan,” she says. “You played really well.”

I nod, smiling, my chest fluttering at the words. “Thanks, Mom.” I try to keep my voice even, steady. “I appreciate that.”

My dad stands beside her, hands jammed deep into his coat pockets, his expression unreadable. His eyes meet mine for a brief second before they flick away.

“You looked good out there,” he says. “Smart passes. Solid game.”

I blink, thrown off. It’s the kind of thing he’s said to Connor a million times. But to me? It’s rare. Foreign even.

“Thanks,” I say, though it comes out more like a question than anything else. I don’t know what to do with this version of him.

For a second, none of us says anything. We just stand there in this weird bubble of silence, the noise of the crowd and my teammates’ laughter muffled around us.

Then my mom speaks again. “Connor called us,” she explains and suddenly it makes sense.

Because they never once have attended any of my games at Colton.

She swallows before continuing. “He had a talk with us and said he thought we should come watch you. That maybe we hadn’t been… as present as we should’ve been.”

I exhale slowly, blowing out a laugh. “Better late than never, I guess.”

“We didn’t mean to make you feel like you didn’t matter,” she says. “That was never the intention.”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “That’s how it felt, though,” I admit, wincing the hurt flicker in my mom’s eyes. “Every game, every practice, every win… I kept looking for you. Expecting a call or even a text, but the only thing I got were my failures.”

My dad finally looks at me, his lips pressed into a thin line. “You’ve always been driven,” he says, almost like he’s thinking aloud. “I thought… maybe you didn’t want us involved. That you wanted space. You never asked.”

“I didn’t think I needed to,” I say with a shrug. “You didn’t need to be asked for Connor.”

He doesn’t defend himself. Just nods once, solemn. “I’m sorry, son. I got it wrong. I thought pushing you meant I was supporting you. I didn’t realize I was making you feel like you were always second best.”

I swallow hard, because that’s the first time I’ve ever heard my dad admit he might’ve screwed up. The first time he’s actually said sorry.

“I’m not trying to be Connor,” I tell him. “I respect everything he’s done, but I want to build something that’s mine. Not a copy of his career. My own path.”

My dad clenches his jaw, but he gives a short nod. “I get that. And I’ll try to be better at seeing it.”

I turn at the sound of footsteps, and there she is.

Isabella.

Her cheeks are pink from the cold, her curls wild around her face, and her smile—God, that smile—hits me harder than any goal ever has. It’s the kind of smile that makes everything else fade into the background.

She makes her way toward me, weaving past the guys and parents and chaos of postgame noise, like she’s moving through her own little tunnel straight to me. When she reaches me, she doesn’t say anything at first. Just wraps her arms around my neck and presses her face against my chest.

“You were incredible,” she murmurs.

I rest my chin on the top of her head, breathing her in. She smells like vanilla and candy and something I can never quite name but always know is her.

“Thanks, baby,” I say, my voice low, a little rough. “I needed that.”

When she pulls back, she tucks one of her curls behind her ear—something she does when she’s nervous—and glances over my shoulder.

I already know who she’s looking at.

My parents.

“Want to meet them?” I ask her.

She nods, a smile lifting her lips. “Yeah. If you want me to.”

“I do.” I’ve never introduced a girl to them before, never had a girlfriend before Isabella and I’m excited about showing her off to them.

I take her hand and turn toward my parents. My mom straightens slightly, and my dad’s eyes flick down to our joined hands.

“This is Isabella,” I tell them with a smile. “My girlfriend.”

Isabella offers them a warm smile. “It’s really nice to meet you both.”

My mom nods, glancing between the both of us. “You too.”

“You’ve got a pretty amazing son,” she says, glancing up at me with those big brown eyes that sucked me in from day one. “On and off the ice.”

My mom smiles, her gaze flicking to me. “Yeah. We know.”

“Reed!” I turn my head, spotting Nathan standing beside Austin and Logan and he arches his brow. “We’re heading to Morley’s to celebrate. You coming?”

“Go on,” my dad replies. “We’ll leave you to it. Go celebrate.”

I nod, giving them a smile. “Thank you for coming. Seriously. You have no idea how much it means to me.”

I tighten my hand in Isabella’s and turn, walking toward the exit. I steal one last glance at my parents. They’re standing there like strangers beside each other.

They’ve barely spoken in years. Their marriage was a silent unraveling; one I witnessed in slow motion growing up.

And for a long time, I figured that’s what love always turned into. Something temporary. Conditional. Disappointing.

I didn’t let myself believe in forever, not really. Didn’t let anyone get close enough to want it.

Until her.

With Isabella, it’s never felt like something that might fade or fall apart. It’s the opposite. Every day with her, it just gets deeper. Stronger. Like she’s not just part of my life—she is my life.

And there’s not a chance in hell I’ll ever end up like them. She’s it for me. No doubt in my mind.

She looks up at me as we step out into the cold night air, her curls dancing in the wind. “You okay?” she asks.

I nod. “More than okay.”

“I’m so proud of you,” she says, her eyes sparkling in the night sky.

I grin, the adrenaline still buzzing through my veins, but it’s nothing compared to the way she makes me feel.

“You have no idea how much I needed to hear that.” I slide my arm around her waist, tugging her in until there’s barely any space between us.

My voice drops as I look down at her. “And I can’t wait to show you how much I love you tonight. ”

Her breath hitches and I lean in, about to kiss her when a loud groan cuts through the moment.

“Jesus Christ,” Coach mutters. “I’m standing right here . Gonna need to bleach my ears after that.”

He unlocks his car and opens the passenger door.

Mrs. Hayes slides in with a smile, catching our eyes just before the door closes. She gives us a warm, knowing look, like she remembers exactly what it’s like to be young and crazy in love.

Isabella hides her grin, and I wrap my arm around Isabella again, pulling her close as we watch them drive off.

“Maybe next time, we wait until we’re out of earshot,” she says, still smirking.

I kiss her temple. “Nah. Let him suffer.”

And in that moment, with her by my side, warm under my arm, I know nothing could ruin this moment.

Not a damn thing.