Puck Me, I’m Yours (Hawthorne University Hockey #1)

Epilogue

Breck

Two Years Later

“Welcome back to the figure skating pairs finals here at the Winter Olympics! We’re about to witness one of our final performances of the evening, and what a story this next pair has brought to these Games.”

“That’s right, Jim. Delaney Quinn and Lachlan Vale are taking the ice for Team USA, and they’ve been nothing short of spectacular this season. For Quinn, this moment is particularly special. She was one of the top contenders heading into the last Winter Games, but an unexpected split with her former partner just months before the event derailed her Olympic dream.”

“Absolutely, and what a redemption arc it’s been. Quinn teamed up with Vale three years ago, and they’ve been on an incredible run ever since, climbing to the top of the world rankings. This performance could cap off one of the most inspiring comebacks we’ve ever seen.”

“And look at this—what a sight in the stands! The entire USA hockey team is here in their warmups, front and center, cheering her on. That’s not something you see every day, Jim.”

“No, you don’t, but when one of your own is skating for gold, it’s a different story. Of course, there’s an extra layer to this—Delaney Quinn is engaged to Brecken Monroe, who just happens to be one of Team USA’s star forwards.”

“And Monroe isn’t shy about showing his support. He’s been spotted at nearly every one of Quinn’s competitions this season, and word is he’s been her biggest cheerleader off the ice. This crowd has an electric energy tonight, and you can bet Monroe and his teammates are adding to it.”

“This moment has everything—a gold medal on the line, a redemption story, and a love story. You couldn’t script it any better. Now, let’s see if Quinn and Vale can deliver the performance of a lifetime.”

My heart pounds like a jackhammer as Del and Lachlan glide onto the gleaming Olympic ice. The roar of the crowd fades to a dull buzz in my ears. I grip the edge of my seat, knuckles white, as if I could transfer some of my nervous energy to her through sheer willpower.

"Holy shit, this is it," I mutter, more to myself than my teammates around me.

One of my teammates claps me on the shoulder. "She's got this, man. They've been killing it all season."

I nod, unable to tear my eyes away from Del's graceful form as she and Lachlan take their starting positions. God, she's breathtaking. The way her blonde waves are pulled back into an intricate braid, the way her emerald-green costume shimmers under the lights—she looks like she was born for this moment.

She really did it. She made it. She’s a fucking Olympian. Fuck, so am I.

As the first notes of their music swell through the arena, a flood of memories washes over me. The grueling early morning practices, the late-night ice baths, the tears of frustration and triumph. We've come so far from those drama-filled days at Hawthorne.

As Del and Lachlan launch into their first lift, I hold my breath. Their movements are fluid, precise—a far cry from the tentative partnership they started with. Without Rafe's toxic presence lurking in the shadows, Del's confidence has soared. She and Lachlan have pushed each other to new heights, quite literally.

"Holy shit," I breathe as they nail a particularly difficult throw. "Did you see that height?"

As I watch Del fly across the ice, her face a mask of fierce determination, I'm struck by how far we've all come. The drama that nearly derailed her career is a distant thought. The drama that nearly derailed our relationship feels like a lifetime ago. Now, here she is, on the precipice of Olympic glory, and I get to witness every breathtaking moment.

I clench my fists, willing myself not to jump to my feet and cheer. There's still half the routine to go, and I don't want to jinx anything. But god, I've never been so fucking proud in my life.

My mind drifts to the whirlwind of the past two years. When I officially signed with the Minnesota Wild, I was over the moon, but a part of me worried it might strain things with Del. Instead, she and Lachlan didn't hesitate to uproot their lives and move their training base.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Monroe," Del had said, her green eyes sparkling with determination. "Besides, Minnesota has decent ice. These ‘M’ states know their ice sports, we’ll be fine."

I chuckle softly at the memory, earning a curious glance from teammates. I hadn’t expected all of them to be here for this with me. But, they’ve been so supportive of not just me, but my girl.

On the ice, Del and Lachlan transition into a complex step sequence. My leg starts bouncing nervously, and I fight the urge to stand up and pace. The nerves are hitting me like a freight train now.

"Come on, baby," I mutter under my breath. "You've got this."

"Dude, you look like you're about to vibrate out of your skin."

I run a hand through my hair, messing up the carefully styled mullet. "Can you blame me? That's my future wife out there."

"Your very badass, incredibly talented future wife."

"Yeah, She's crushing it."

I nod, trying to swallow past the lump in my throat. "Yeah, she is."

My eyes are glued to Del as she and Lachlan hit their final combination spin with flawless precision. The crowd erupts in thunderous applause, and I realize I've been holding my breath. As they strike their ending pose, I let out a shaky exhale.

"Holy shit," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the roar of the crowd. "They nailed it."

As Del and Lachlan make their way to the kiss and cry, I unconsciously grab Dougall's forearm, my fingers digging into his skin.

"Ow, dude!" Dougall yelps, but doesn't pull away. "I know you're nervous, but maybe ease up on the death grip?"

I loosen my hold slightly, but can't bring myself to let go entirely. "Sorry, I just... God, I want this for her so bad."

"We know, Breck," Dougall says softly. "We all do."

The arena falls into a tense silence as we wait for the scores. I swear I can hear my own heart pounding in my ears. Del's face appears on the big screen, her green eyes wide with anticipation, and I feel my breath catch in my throat.

"Come on," I mutter. "Come on, come on, come on..."

The announcer's voice booms through the speakers, and for a moment, I can't process the words.

"Holy fuck!" I'm on my feet before I even realize I'm moving, my voice hoarse as I scream at the top of my lungs. "She did it! World record! Fucking world record!"

I'm vaguely aware of my teammates jumping up around me, their excited shouts blending with mine. Dougall's rubbing his forearm where I'd been gripping it, but he's grinning from ear to ear.

"Gold medal, baby!" Lance yells, throwing an arm around my shoulders.

I can barely see through the tears in my eyes, but I can make out Del's radiant smile on the screen. She's crying too, hugging Lachlan tightly as the realization sinks in.

"That's my girl," I choke out, my chest so full of pride and love I feel like I might burst. "That's my fucking girl."

My legs are shaking as I push through the crowd, flashing my backstage pass at security. The corridor leading to the athletes' area is a blur of excitement and noise, but I'm laser-focused on one thing: finding Del.

"Excuse me, sorry," I mutter, squeezing past a group of reporters. My heart's racing, and I can't stop grinning like an idiot.

I spot Lachlan first, his tall frame unmistakable. Then I see her—Del, still flushed from the performance, her blonde hair coming loose from its elegant updo. She's radiant, practically glowing with triumph.

"Del!" I call out, my voice cracking with emotion.

She turns, those intense green eyes locking onto mine, and suddenly nothing else matters. I close the distance between us in three long strides.

"Congrats, man," I manage to say to Lachlan, clapping him on the shoulder. "You guys were incredible out there."

But I can't take my eyes off Del. Without another word, I sweep her into my arms, burying my face in the crook of her neck.

"You did it, baby," I murmur against her skin. "I'm so fucking proud of you."

I feel her arms tighten around me, her body trembling slightly. Is she crying? Am I? It's hard to tell where her emotions end and mine begin.

Pulling back just enough to see her face, I fumble in my pocket. "I've got something for you," I say, my voice thick with emotion. I pull out her ring—the one she always takes off for competitions—and slip it back onto her finger where it belongs.

"I love you," I whisper, pressing my forehead to hers. "More than anything in this world."

Del's fingers intertwine with mine, the cool metal of her ring a familiar comfort. She pulls away, her eyes sparkling with a mix of triumph and mischief. "I need to change," she says, her voice husky. "These costumes aren't exactly made for lounging."

I watch as she bends to unlace her skates, her movements graceful even off the ice. My eyes trace the curve of her back, the flexing of her muscles under the shimmering fabric of her costume. God, she's beautiful.

Del grabs a bundle of clothes from her bag, then pauses, her brow furrowing. "You know, with all these countries and all these participants, there's surprisingly little privacy," she mutters sarcastically, glancing around the bustling backstage area.

She’s right. And, not just here. The Olympic village feels more crowded than a dormitory. It has not been easy to be intimate.

I follow her gaze, noticing the throngs of people milling about—coaches, officials, other athletes. An idea strikes me, and I can't help the grin that spreads across my face. "Hey, babe?" I ask, trying to keep my voice casual. "Any more interviews lined up?"

She shakes her head, a strand of blonde hair falling across her face. "Not until later. And the medal ceremony isn’t for another hour. Why?"

"Good," I say, my heart racing as I grab her hand. I spot a door marked 'Changing Room' and make a beeline for it, pulling Del along with me. Once inside, I flip the lock with a satisfying click.

Del raises an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Breck Monroe, what exactly are you up to?"

I lean in close, my lips brushing her ear. "Just helping my gold medal-winning fiancée get changed. Obviously."

My hands find the top hem of her leo, slowly peeling it away from her skin. I can't resist pressing my lips to the curve of her neck, savoring the saltiness of post-performance sweat mixed with her unique scent. "God, Del," I murmur against her skin, "you were incredible out there."

She shivers under my touch, her breath catching. "Breck, we shouldn't—"

I silence her with a gentle nip to her collarbone, reveling in the soft gasp it elicits. "Shh," I whisper, "let me show you how proud I am of you."

As I continue to undress her, kissing every inch of newly exposed skin, my mind races. How did I get so lucky? This amazing, talented woman is mine. Forever.

"I love you so much," I breathe, my voice thick with emotion. "You know that, right?"

Del's fingers thread through my hair, her touch tender. "I love you too, you big softie," she teases, but I can hear the emotion in her voice too.

My lips trail along her shoulder, soft and unhurried, like I can imprint the feel of her skin into my memory. Each kiss feels like a promise, a vow I’ll never break.

“You know,” I murmur against her collarbone, my voice low, “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

She laughs softly, a sound that wraps around my heart and squeezes, tilting her head to give me better access. I take it, pressing another kiss just below her ear, letting the words I’ve been holding spill out.

“I love you so much, Del. More than I ever thought was possible.” My lips skim the curve of her neck, and I feel her shiver. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. To make a million memories. To be your husband.”

She goes still for a second, and I swear I hear her breath hitch, but I don’t stop. I can’t.

“And one day,” I whisper, grinning against her skin, “we’re going to make the most beautiful, athletic babies. Kids who’ll probably skate before they can even walk.”

That earns me a laugh, soft and full of affection, and it makes my chest ache in the best way.

“But not yet,” I add quickly, pressing one last kiss just below her jaw. “Not until after the next Olympics, of course.”

Del laughs, the sound warming me from the inside out. "Athletic babies, huh? You've got it all planned out, don't you?"

I grin sheepishly. "What can I say? I'm a man with a vision."

I drop to my knees, drinking in the sight of Del's lithe figure as I peel off her tights. My fingers tremble slightly, a mix of desire and awe coursing through me. God, she's breathtaking. And completely bare for me.

"You're so beautiful," I murmur, my voice husky with want. I can't help but run my thumb along her slick folds, groaning at how wet she already is. "Can you be quiet for me, baby?"

Del nods, biting her lip. Her green eyes are dark with desire, a flush creeping across her cheeks. "Good girl," I praise, leaning in to taste her.

The first swipe of my tongue has us both moaning. I savor her familiar flavor, a heady mix of salt and sweetness that's uniquely Del. My mind races, caught between the physical sensations and the overwhelming emotions.

This is my fiancée. My future wife. The mother of our hypothetical, ridiculously athletic children. And she just won an Olympic gold medal.

I circle her clit with my tongue, alternating between broad strokes and quick flicks. Del's fingers tangle in my hair, her grip tightening as I suck gently on the sensitive bud. I can feel her thighs trembling against my shoulders, hear the little whimpers she's trying to suppress.

"That's it," I encourage, slipping two fingers inside her. "Let go for me, love. I've got you."

I curl my fingers, searching for that spot that drives her wild. When I find it, Del's hips buck against my face. I double my efforts, determined to make her fall apart.

It doesn't take long before she's coming with a muffled cry, her body shaking above me. I work her through it, gentling my movements as she comes down from her high.

As I pull back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I can't help but grin up at her. "So," I tease, "was that better than winning gold?"

Del laughs breathlessly, tugging me up for a deep kiss. "Mm, it's a close call," she murmurs against my lips. "I might need more data to make an informed decision."

I laugh, my heart so full of love for this woman I can hardly stand it. "Well, I'm always happy to contribute to scientific research..."

I grip Del's thighs, marveling at the strength in her lithe figure as I lift her. "You know what?" I murmur, pressing kisses along her jaw. "After the closing ceremonies, you and me are spending a whole week in bed. No interruptions, no schedules. Just us."

Del's breath hitches as I lower her onto me, her warmth enveloping me completely. "Promise?" she whispers, her green eyes locked on mine.

"Cross my heart," I vow, my voice rough with emotion. I can't believe we're here, in this moment. Olympic champion and NHL player, but more importantly, just Del and Breck.

I start to move, slow and deliberate. Each thrust is filled with everything I feel for her—pride, desire, love. So much love it threatens to overwhelm me.

"God, Del," I breathe between kisses. "You're incredible. Do you know that? The way you skated out there... I've never seen anything so beautiful."

She laughs softly, the sound turning into a gasp as I hit a particularly sensitive spot. "You're biased," she teases, but I can see the vulnerability in her eyes.

"Damn right I am," I agree, cupping her face in my hands. "And I'm the luckiest man alive because of it. I love you so much, baby. I want you. All of you, forever."

Del's eyes shimmer with unshed tears. "I love you too," she whispers. "I can't believe we made it here."

I think of all we've been through—the long-distance, the grueling schedules, the doubts and insecurities. But we fought for this, for us. And now...

"Believe it, baby," I tell her, my hips never stopping their steady rhythm. "This is just the beginning."

I feel her body start to tense, her breathing becoming more erratic. My own release is building, a white-hot pressure at the base of my spine. I want to savor this moment, to make it last, but the intensity of our connection is overwhelming.

"Breck," Del gasps, her fingers digging into my shoulders. "I'm close."

I press my forehead to hers, our eyes locked. "Me too, baby. Let go. I've got you."

Her walls start to flutter around me, and I'm lost in the sensation. As she cries out, I capture her lips in a searing kiss, swallowing her moans. The sight of her coming undone pushes me over the edge, and I follow her into blissful oblivion.

As we come down from our high, I hold her close, my heart racing. "Forever, Del," I promise, my voice thick with emotion. "You and me, always."

She smiles up at me, radiant and flushed. "Forever," she agrees, sealing the vow with a tender kiss.

Yeah, forever. And, I can’t fucking wait.

***

Birdie & Tyson's story is next in One Lucky Puck!

Superstitious hockey boys are going to superstitch…and Tyson is convinced that Birdie is his Hawthorne lucky charm. After a one-night stand turns into something much more, they’ll have to navigate their chemistry, a fake relationship, and the price of risking it all for love.

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