Page 29

Xander

T he place I once considered home feels strange, empty, and cold—even though it’s sunny and hot outside.

I glance around my apartment. Nothing about it screams home.

A few pieces of art hang on the walls. Everything else is white, sleek, and modern.

Sterile. There’s no warmth here. No sign of the man I’ve become since meeting Rain.

After things ended with Tiffany, I focused all my energy on my career. Breathing hockey, living for the game. It was all I had.

But now? I need balance if I want Rain in my life. And I do. She’s the reason I wake up with a grin from ear to ear every morning. The reason I want to be better. Stronger.

I step into my closet—a huge walk-in with his and hers sides—and a smile tugs at my mouth. I picture Rain’s clothes hanging opposite mine, a splash of color and chaos against my rigid rows of white, black, and navy.

As I open my suitcase to unpack the clothes I brought back from Azalea Creek, something tucked in the corner catches my eye. Something I didn’t pack.

My smile spreads.

It’s the thong Rain wore last night. Baby blue.

Barely there. Tiny lace triangles are connected by two golden rings on the sides.

My cock jerks at the memory of her writhing beneath me as I ease it off with my teeth.

I lift the lace to my nose and inhale deeply—her scent still on it, warm and musky. I’m already leaking precum.

Fuck. I might have to jerk off before I go to the arena.

I shake off the thought and tuck the thong in a drawer before finishing unpacking. Once I’m done, I throw together a smoothie and head out.

My heart is pumping hard in my chest as I drive to the arena. It’s always been like this. Every time I come back from summer break, I feel like a rookie entering the building for the first time.

Excited, anxious, eager.

This year, though, there’s one more feeling: doubt .

Even though Ruin did a great job giving me the tools to deal with intrusive thoughts, I can’t help but wonder if, once I’m back on the ice, I’ll be able to go through my routine—or if I’ll freeze in place.

Whatever happens, I know I need to show Coach and the team that I’m back and ready to win the Cup.

The coaching and health staff are waiting.

“Xander, son. It’s so good to see you,” Coach says as I step into the conference room.

I nod and smile, scanning the room. The assistant coach, team doctor, physiotherapist, and Eric, the general manager, are already seated.

After a round of quick hellos, I take a seat.

Coach starts, “Dr. Gutierrez has been sending us weekly updates on your recovery. He shared how your bone healed to completion and how you’ve regained muscle mass.

I need to remain cautiously optimistic, but if you’ve recovered—and have your mind one hundred percent focused on the game—I think the team can dream of big things this season. ”

My pulse ticks up, excitement stirring at the idea of a comeback. But his comment about having my mind fully on the game rubs me the wrong way.

I’m not sure what he’s heard about my private life, but I’m not asking permission to date Rain. I’m a grown man, a well-seasoned athlete. I know how to compartmentalize my feelings. I can give everything I’ve got on the ice and still have a healthy relationship with Rain. In fact, I want both.

“It’s been truly impressive to see you get back on your feet from afar,” Eric pipes up, and I nod, proud of everything I accomplished at Serene Lookout.

“I’m impressed as well. The team of professionals there is incredibly skilled. Even though they had me working every single day, I never felt overwhelmed or overworked. I can’t wait to be back on the ice.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” Coach replies. “Today, we’ll have you run through ice practice—no contact. Make sure you wear the vest.”

“Yeah,” the doctor adds, “otherwise I can see the guys trying to prank you, and we don’t want an injury on the first day back.”

I shudder at the thought, but laugh it off.

“I know all this is very exciting,” Eric says.

“We want you to thrive. You’re a critical piece of this team.

” He leans forward, voice steady. “We still have a few weeks to see how you perform before the season begins. But if you meet our expectations, we may be looking at a very interesting contract expansion.”

Contract expansion.

The words hit like a slapshot to the chest. But in the best way.

“Looking forward to showing you all what Serene Lookout did for me. I can’t wait to crush those expectations,” I say, my voice edged with confidence.

“Very well,” the doctor says, closing his folder. “We’ll run a few performance tests to confirm the recovery data, then you’ll hit the ice.”

“Xander, I’ll meet you at the gym,” the physiotherapist adds.

I nod and shake hands with Eric and the coaches, then make my way to the locker room.

The second I open the door, a sea of voices hits me—shouts, laughter, the rustle of gear. All the guys are here, getting ready for ice practice.

I’ve fucking missed this.

“Hey, look who’s back,” Matt calls out, and everyone turns toward the door.

A wave of greetings follows—“Xander!” “Hey, bro!” “Welcome back!” I take my time, working my way around the room.

At my cubby, I grab a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.

“It’s good to see you back, man,” Matt says. His locker’s right next to mine.

“Yeah, I’m happy to be back,” I reply, but Matt watches me for a beat too long, his brows knitting together.

“But?” he prompts.

I let out a slow breath.

“Oh, your girlfriend,” he says, nodding like he’s connecting the dots. “I take it she didn’t want to move to Raleigh?”

“Actually, she is moving. But it’ll take some time to put things in place.”

“That sucks, but at least she’s coming.”

I nod, reminding myself to be patient. Rain needs time to settle things in Azalea Creek before she joins me here. And I’m willing to wait.

I change quickly, folding the sweatpants and shirt that I wore in and stashing them in my cubby. As I sit to put on my tennis shoes, Cody, our goalie, pipes up.

“Hey, Xander. I heard a new nickname is in order.”

I frown. The room quiets for a bit, then ripples of snickers break out.

“What the hell?” I ask, wary.

“Oh yeah. Your goat video went viral,” Matt says, passing me his phone.

On the screen is a video from the day Rain and I took the picture with the goats. I throw my head back, laughing. I can tell the exact moment the pee landed on my foot—my whole face changes. And Rain, catching on, collapses in laughter.

She’s so fucking beautiful. My chest tightens. I wish I were crawling in bed beside her tonight.

“Last time I checked, it had 2.5 million views,” Matt adds.

“Yeah, this was funny as shit,” I say, recovering from the laughter, but not the ache in my chest.

The guys slowly return to their routines .

“So maybe we can call you Goat ?” Cody suggests.

The room erupts again.

“Absolutely not,” I say, standing to my full height. “I mean it. I’ll get back at anyone who calls me that.”

I give them my best death glare, but they don’t seem too frightened.

Yeah. I’m going to hear it again. Probably all season long.

I head out to the gym, where Brent is waiting by one of the treadmills.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

I nod, rolling my shoulders to relax.

“Good. Hop on. Let’s start with some cardio.”

I do as I’m told. Brent straps a heart monitor across my chest to track my vitals as I run.

After thirty minutes of cardio, we move to the weight area. Brent logs more data, checks my reps, and finishes with body fat and muscle mass percentages.

“Looking good, Xander. Welcome back,” he says before heading out. I grab a bottle of water and a towel.

Now it’s ice time.

Fuck yes.

Putting on my gear is a ritual. Each strap, each buckle, each piece of padding—I feel like a warrior suiting up for battle. Every tug of the lace, every clip of a fastener brings me closer to home.

As I tighten my skates, I start taking deep breaths, visualizing myself on the ice. Confident. In control. Calm.

Ready to win.

Fully dressed, I ask for red tape to wrap my stick. I want something on the ice that reminds me of Rain. I’ve always liked the color red, but now, it’ll be my lucky charm. Luck. Love. Fuel.

I draw a cherry on the tape. A quiet tribute to her.

As I walk from the locker room to the rink, my heart thumps faster with every step. The moment my blade touches the ice, I lift my head to the rafters and offer a silent prayer.

Thank you, God, for allowing me to return to the sport I love so much.

I glide slowly at first, taking in the smooth chill of the rink, the familiar scrape of blades on ice. The rest of the team is already out here, stretching, warming up.

My gaze sweeps over them, one by one. I can see it in their eyes—the hunger. The fire. The fierce belief that this could be our season.

“Listen up,” Coach calls out.

We circle up in the middle of the rink.

“Today, we begin a new season. Same dreams. Same hope. Same goal: win the Cup.”

We all tap our sticks on the ice at the mention of it.

Coach continues, “We were close last season. That was good. But we fell short. And we not only disappointed ourselves but our fans too. This season, we need to train better. Harder. We show our hunger for victory with every single touch of the puck.”

I nod, already visualizing myself controlling the puck, cutting across the ice, and scoring.

“I believe in you as incredibly talented individuals,” Coach says, voice rising, “and I also believe in you all as a team . I know we have what it takes to lift that trophy.”

A pause. Then he grins.

“Now let’s fucking do it.”

The team erupts—howls, cheers, stick taps. It vibrates in my bones.

This is our season.

Cody throws me a puck. I start passing it between my stick, loosening up. The energy builds in my body until I can’t hold it back anymore. I speed toward the goalpost, wind up, and take the shot.

Cody tries to block it, but it goes in.

“Yes!” I shout, lifting my stick and circling around to try again.

“I let you!” Cody calls out.

I scoff, already grabbing another puck. I hit it. Hard. Then another. And another. Cody stops a few, but most rip past him into the net.

My body starts to ache, muscles burning from the work I haven’t done in a while.

But it’s the kind of pain I crave.

I missed this.

And I can’t wait for more.

Back in the locker room and fresh out of the shower, I check my phone. A smile spreads across my face—a text from Rain is waiting.

Rain : Hey, Hotshot! How did the meeting go? I hope you had a good first practice. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. *kiss emoji*

“Oh, Xander is grinning,” Matt says in a mocking tone, and a chorus of “Ooohs” and catcalls echoes around the room.

I shake my head at their nonsense and very demurely show them the middle finger.

Matt throws his head back in laughter while I turn back to my phone and reply.

Xander : The meeting went great. I’m hopeful I’ll be signing a contract extension before the season starts!

Xander : I can’t wait to have you in my arms again. Love you. *cherry emoji*

Rain : So proud of you! *eye heart emoji* *clap emoji*

“We’re heading to the bar for a beer and maybe some darts. You in?” Cody asks, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.

I glance at Matt, who’s already nodding.

“Yeah, cool. See you guys there.”

Cody nods, and he and the rest of the guys file out.

I finish getting dressed, and just as I’m tying my sneakers, I hear Matt let out a dramatic “Yes!”

“What? I ask with a frown. “I usually go out with the team.”

“Well, yeah. But I thought you were going to FaceTime your girl,” he says with mock-swoony eyes. “The first stages of love are always so lovey-dovey.”

I laugh at the silly faces he’s making. “I’m surprised you remember. Haven’t you been in love for, like, two hundred years?”

He punches my arm. “Asshole.”

We’re both still chuckling as we head out of the locker room.

We get to the bar in no time. The guys are already at our usual tables—beer buckets and a tower of wings front and center. I wave the server down and ask for water and a side of loaded nachos.

“Not drinking?” Matt asks, already holding a beer .

“Nah, I’m not drinking until we lift that Cup,” I say, and he smiles.

My water and food arrive, and I polish off the nachos in a flash. Practice always makes me hungry.

“So, what are you doing this weekend?” Matt asks. “Wanna come over? We can play video games, grill some burgers.”

Nico and Blake grab some chairs and catch the tail end.

“I’m down,” they say in unison.

I grab a wing from the pile and grin. “I can’t. I’m going to the Cape to see my folks.”

“Oh, I thought you were going back to the little town to see your girl?” Matt says, mid-burger bite.

“She’s coming with me,” I reply, smirking.

“Ohhh, she’s meeting your parents? Wow, man,” Nico says, eyebrows raised. “That’s major. I don’t think we’ve ever seen you in a real real relationship before.”

He glances at Blake for confirmation.

“Yeah,” Blake agrees. “Ever since you joined the team, we’ve never seen a girl with you.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think it was in my cards anymore. After Tiffany, I was closed off and completely focused on my career. But Rain is different.”

They all share a look, and my smile fades.

“What?” I ask, suddenly defensive.

“Well,” Nico says carefully, “we just don’t want you to get distracted. We were so close last year.”

I start tracing the condensation on my glass .

“I know. That’s why I went to Serene Lookout—to come back stronger. To win that trophy. But she’s different, guys. She makes me want to be better, you know?”

There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. With her.

Blake gives me a knowing smile and taps his beer bottle to my glass. “Yeah, man. I know. I hope we get to meet her. Tara will be thrilled when I tell her there’s a new girl for their crew.”

The WAGs are tight—always hanging out during away games and going to home games together. I think Rain will like them.

“Yeah, for sure. We’ll have to plan something,” I say, raising my glass.

“To the Carolina Red Wolves lifting the Cup this season,” I declare.

The guys echo it with hoots and hollers, clinking bottles and glasses across the table.

This is my year. Personally and professionally.

Come hell or high water, I’m lifting the trophy.

And I’m marrying Rain.