Page 44 of What If I Hate You (Anaheim Stars Hockey #6)

“And now there are three female mascots in the league,” she continues. “So, tell me how this isn’t the same thing? If little old me who doesn’t even speak during her job can make a difference, you certainly can too.”

“I worked at Pacific Children’s for years before they got rid of me and replaced me with an older man.” Layken shrugs. “And then the Stars hired me to run charity work for the team and I write romance books on the side, so who’s killing it now?”

Corrigan lifts her hand and says, “I run the Emergency Room Trauma Center at Pacific Children’s. I beat out ten other guys for my job. Don’t you dare settle for less than what you want, Blakely. You deserve you dreams. Sometimes you just have to be willing to get a little messy to achieve them.”

I look around the room, taking in the fierce determination on each of their faces.

It’s like standing in the eye of a storm, and for the first time, I can see the power in my own vulnerability.

My heart swells, uncertainty mingling with a rush of courage.

“You really think I can make a difference?” I ask, my voice cracking just a bit.

“Absolutely,” Marlee pipes up, her eyes sparkling with conviction.

“You’re not just some pretty face, Blake.

You’re a force to be reckoned with. I’ve watched you and have been by your side for years.

And if anyone can shake things up, it’s you.

Don’t let those asshats bring you down. That’s not happening anymore.

We’re dragons now. We’re warriors. We’re queens. ”

“Amen, sister!” Layken gives Marlee a high five. “So, fix your crown, girlfriend, and let’s fuck the patriarchy.”

As the laughter fades and the door clicks shut behind the last of our friends, an unexpected silence blankets the room.

It feels different now, lighter somehow, but charged with an electric undercurrent that makes my skin tingle.

I glance up at Barrett, who’s leaning against the kitchen counter, arms still crossed and that familiar intensity flickering in his eyes.

“Thanks for tonight,” I say softly, my heart racing as I pull the hoodie tighter around me, feeling the warmth of him still lingering through the fabric. “I really needed it.”

He pushes off the counter and walks toward me, each step purposeful and deliberate. “You don’t have to thank me,” he replies, his voice low and husky. “You’re family, Blake.”

The air thickens between us, charged with unspoken words.

I can feel the heat radiating off him, and I swallow hard, feeling the weight of everything I just voiced in front of our friends.

The vulnerability of sharing my struggles, the fear of being a target.

It all hangs in the air, waiting to be acknowledged.

“What you said tonight… about using my voice,” I start, but he shakes his head gently as he closes the distance, standing before me now, towering and fierce.

“You already know what you need to do.” His eyes bore into mine, a mix of encouragement and something deeper that sends my heart thudding against my ribcage. “I know what you’re thinking,” he says, his voice low, and it makes my insides twist.

“What am I thinking?” I challenge, but my tone lacks any bite. I’m practically holding my breath, waiting for him to unravel the knot of uncertainty that’s been gnawing at me since I left the office today.

“That you’re scared. That this might blow up in your face.

” He steps even closer, his broad shoulders blocking out the light from the kitchen.

The heat radiating between us is palpable, and I can almost feel it sizzling like the tension on the ice before a big game.

“But let me tell you this. Every time I’ve taken a risk, every time I’ve faced the fear of failure, those moments have defined me more than any victory on the rink ever could.

” He lifts his hand to my face, smoothing his thumb over my cheek.

“And I am so damn proud of you for taking a stand. I’m sorry it was because of me or had anything to do with me whatsoever.

I never wanted to put you in this kind of position, but I’m proud of you no matter what. ”

His words wrap around me, warm and inviting like the hoodie I’m drowning in.

But it’s the heat from his body, close enough that I can feel its pulse, that sets my skin ablaze.

I’m standing on the precipice of something monumental.

A leap into an unknown that thrills and terrifies me at the same time.

There’s a spark igniting in the pit of my stomach, a wild urge to surrender to this moment, to the man who stands before me like a guardian and a tempest all at once.

“Barrett,” I breathe, my voice barely above a whisper, but the way he looks at me, the way his gaze darkens with need, makes my heart race. The air between us is thick with something primal, something that blurs the lines of friendship and pushes against the constraints we’ve imposed on ourselves.

He doesn’t respond immediately, just steps closer, closing off the space between us until my breath hitches.

His hand reaches out, brushing my cheek with the gentleness of a lover and the urgency of a man who knows exactly what he wants.

“Do you know how hard it is for me to watch you hurt?” His voice is rough and the way he looks at me sends a shiver down my spine.

I feel exposed yet somehow protected at the same time.

His words wrap around my heart like a vise, squeezing tighter, and I feel the heat rising to my cheeks.

“Barrett…” I manage to utter, but it’s barely a whisper, lost in the charged atmosphere between us.

“I’ve never been good at showing emotions,” he continues, his voice low, almost a growl that sends shivers racing up my spine. “But you… you deserve everything in the world, Blake. And I want to be the one who gives it to you.”

The sincerity in his eyes makes my heart thrum wildly.

How can someone so intimidating also possess a softness that cuts through my defenses?

Each word pulls me closer to him, and I can’t help but feel desperate for that connection, for the comfort of his presence.

He closes the distance between us completely, his breath ghosting over my lips and the world fades away.

Nothing exists outside of the two of us.

“Please, Bear.”

The moment my plea slips past my lips, it’s as if a dam breaks inside him.

His mouth crashes onto mine, fierce and demanding, pouring all his love into this kiss.

My heart races, thrumming against my chest like a wild animal desperate to escape as he pulls me closer.

I can feel every muscle in his body—strong and solid—pressing against me, igniting a fire that spreads through my veins.

He tastes like warmth, like something sweet and intoxicating, and it makes my head spin. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him deeper, and he responds with a low growl, one that reverberates through me, urging me to climb higher and higher until I’m drinking in the heat of him, utterly lost.

His hands find the hem of my hoodie, pushing it up and over my head in one fluid motion, leaving me bare and exposed beneath his gaze. I shiver under the weight of his intensity, the way his eyes darken with desire, and it sends delicious chills dancing down my spine.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly as he traces my collarbone with his fingertips, igniting every nerve ending in my body.

I feel every kiss of air against my skin, the way he explores my body with one fierce gaze, and it sends a shudder of anticipation racing through me.

I can’t help but arch into his touch, craving more while drowning in the intensity of this moment.

His lips brush against mine again, slow and tender, a stark contrast to the fire igniting inside me. Every kiss is a promise, every breath shared pulls me deeper into his warmth.

“You’re the only thing that matters right now,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion, wrapping around my heart like a warm embrace.