22. Jessica
Chapter twenty-two
Jessica
T he crisp air cuts through the car as I adjust my scarf, glancing over at Eric behind the wheel. His hands are relaxed on the steering wheel, but I can see the energy buzzing through him. I smile at him, catching the way his eyes sparkle when they dart to me for a moment.
“I see someone is ready for the exhibition game,” I tease, nudging him lightly. “Got all that ‘fake boyfriend’ charm ready to go for the cameras?”
Eric chuckles, his lips twitching into that perfect grin that always gets to me. “I don’t know, Jess. I’m starting to think there’s not much that’s ‘fake’ about it anymore.”
His words send a flutter through my chest, and I try to ignore how quickly my heart picks up speed. We’ve been dancing around this for a while now—the line between what was once a staged relationship for the public eye and what’s become undeniably real. And today, driving to the Avalanche’s Open Ice Exhibition, I can feel the weight of what he’s saying.
I lean back in my seat, pretending to think it over. “Not fake anymore, huh?”
He glances at me again, his grin growing. “Yeah. Feels pretty real to me. What about you?”
I bite my lower lip, feeling a warmth spread through me as I look out the window at the snowy streets of Denver. The world outside feels like it’s coated in a layer of magic—sunshine on the snow, decorated storefronts, and that undeniable post-Christmas glow. And here I am, sitting next to a man who has managed to carve out a place in my heart when I wasn’t sure there was any room left.
I take a breath and meet his eyes. “Yeah, it feels real to me, too.”
The smile that breaks across his face is so genuine, so full of something that feels like hope, that I have to look away for a moment just to keep my cool. How did this happen? How did we get here, from pretending for the sake of the team to this? And more importantly, how did it start to feel like we could actually make this work?
As we pull into the arena’s parking lot, I glance at the gathering crowd. Families, kids in Avalanche jerseys, and teens with their hockey sticks and skates hanging over their shoulders are already lining up for the event. There’s an excitement in the air, a kind of electric jolt that only comes when you mix young dreams with the thrill of being on the ice with professional players.
“Look at that turnout,” Eric says, nodding toward the crowd. “These kids are gonna love this.”
I smile, watching as a group of little boys in oversized jerseys chatter excitedly, their faces pressed up against the glass windows as they point toward the ice. “Yeah. And so will you. I bet you’re secretly a big softie when it comes to kids.”
Eric gives me a mock-serious look. “I have a reputation to uphold. Don’t go spreading rumors.”
But I can see it—the way his eyes soften just a little when he looks at the kids gathering at the entrance. He’s not fooling me. There’s more to him than the tough, guarded exterior he likes to show the world. And today, watching him with these kids, I know I’m going to see another side of him that I’m more than ready to fall for.
As we step out of the car and make our way toward the arena, a few flashes from the cameras start going off. Reporters are already here, lining up to get their shots of Eric as he walks into the event. I can feel their eyes on me too, but for the first time in a long time, I don’t care. Let them look. Let them speculate. I’m proud to be by his side today.
The pre-event interviews are already underway when we enter the player’s area of the arena, just beside the rink. Eric is immediately pulled aside by a group of reporters, their questions coming rapid-fire.
“Eric! How’s it feel to have spent your first Christmas in Denver? You looking forward to giving back to the community today?”
“Eric, what’s it like seeing the kids’ faces light up when they know they’re getting on the ice with you?”
“And Eric, any comment on the rumors that other teams are looking to steal you away after your hot start with the Avalanche? Rumor has it you haven’t finalized your trade here yet!”
That last question catches my attention. I stiffen a little, watching Eric carefully. His face remains calm, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—something that tells me he’s hiding something. I shove the thought away. I’m being paranoid. I tell myself not to ruin the connection Eric and I have.
“We’ll see what happens,” Eric says smoothly, dodging the question with the kind of practiced ease that only a seasoned athlete has. “Right now, I’m just focused on the Avalanche and helping these kids have a great day.”
The reporters nod, satisfied for the moment, but I know it won’t be the last time he’s asked about his future with the team. I just hope he’s not letting the rumors get to him.
The next few hours fly by. The arena is filled with laughter and the sound of skates slicing across the ice. Kids of all ages are out there, playing their hearts out with some of the Avalanche’s best players, including Eric. He’s a natural with them, showing them tips, high fiving them after a good play, and even lifting the little ones up when they lose their balance.
I sit in the stands, watching him, my heart swelling with pride. He’s not just a great hockey player—he’s a great person. And seeing him out there with these kids, laughing and smiling, I let myself believe I’ve found something real with him.
A family sits down next to me, two little boys wearing Avalanche jerseys with Eric’s number on the back. They’re bouncing in their seats, pointing excitedly at the ice.
“Mom, that’s him! That’s Gator! I wanna be like him when I grow up!”
Their mom laughs, ruffling the youngest boy’s hair. “Well, you better practice hard, then. Maybe one day you’ll be out there, just like Eric.”
I smile to myself, listening to them. I remember being that age, looking up to people who seemed larger than life. And now, here I am, watching Eric inspire the next generation of players. It’s surreal, in a way, but also exactly what he deserves.
As the exhibition goes on, more kids take to the ice, and the media can’t get enough. Pictures of Eric with the kids, helping them skate, are all over social media within minutes. Every time I check my phone, another post has gone up, most of them with captions about how great Eric is with the kids and what a good role model he is.
And then, of course, there are the posts about us .
The picture we posted yesterday of our Christmas morning together has been shared and liked thousands of times. Fans are commenting on how cute we are together, how happy we look, and, of course, how it’s about time Eric found someone. There are even a few comments hinting at wedding bells in the future.
Wedding bells?
I nearly choke on my own breath when I read that one. We’ve barely been real for more than a day, and people are already talking about marriage?
I glance up from my phone to watch Eric again, catching the way he grins at one of the kids who just scored a goal. He’s so in his element out there, and for a moment, I forget all about the media, the rumors, the pressure. It’s just him doing what he loves. And me, sitting here, loving him for it.
The thought hits me like a freight train.
Loving him .
I blink, staring down at my hands as I try to process it. Am I really falling for him? Or has it already happened, somewhere along the way, without me even realizing it?
Eric skates over to me, still laughing with a few of the kids who are lined up by the boards. He’s got that on-ice glow, his cheeks flushed, his hair slightly damp from the helmet, and when he looks at me, there’s something soft in his eyes.
“Enjoying the show?” he asks, leaning on the boards next to me.
I nod, unable to hide the smile that spreads across my face. “Yeah. You are amazing with them.”
He grins, glancing back at the ice. “They are the amazing ones. I just showed up.”
I smile, but I know he’s being humble. He’s the one they’re going to remember, the one they’ll talk about for years to come. And I can’t help but feel proud, not just because he’s great at what he does, but because I know the man underneath it all. The one who’s kind, who’s thoughtful, who’s been through his own struggles and come out stronger.
“Eric! Jessica! Can we get a comment on your relationship? What’s next for you two?” a reporter calls out, seeing Eric pausing by me before heading back out onto center ice.
“And Jessica, how do you feel about all the fans rooting for a wedding in the future?” another one says.
I glance at Eric, my heart pounding. His gloved hand slips over mine, and he gives me a reassuring look. Then he skates off, not answering the reporter’s poorly timed questions, but I can’t shake the feeling that the world is watching us now, waiting to see what happens next.
Toward the end of the event, as the kids start to wind down and the last few families drift away from the ice, I feel a sense of calm settle over me. I’m still seated in the front row, watching Eric out on the ice as he helps a little boy lace up his skates. The way everyone here today lights up around him makes my chest feel tight in the best way possible.
Just as I’m about to stand and make my way over to him, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Jason is descending the steps, making his way toward me with that familiar, determined look on his face. My stomach tightens.
I force a smile as he approaches, reminding myself that I’m not at work right now, even if he seems to think otherwise. “Hey, Jason.”
“Jessica,” he says smoothly, sliding into the seat beside me as if we’re just old friends catching up. “How was your Christmas with the Stantons yesterday?”
I glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “It was fine. But I’ll tell you now—I’m not really in the mood to talk about work right now.”
He chuckles, leaning back slightly, his gaze following Eric out on the ice. “Oh, come on. We’re always working, aren’t we? Even at these little community events.”
I sigh, my patience thinning. “Jason, I don’t want to talk about work right now. Can’t we just enjoy the last bit of this?”
But Jason’s not one to be deterred. His voice drops slightly, becoming more serious, and I feel the shift in his demeanor. “Look, you might not want to talk about work, but you’re going to have to. Kip’s been asking for an update.”
My stomach churns. I know exactly what he’s referring to, but I’d been hoping that Kip would back off, at least for the holidays. Of course, that was wishful thinking.
“I told you I’m done spying on him, Jason,” I say quietly, not wanting to draw any attention from the others nearby. “It’s not right.”
Jason ignores my protest, leaning in closer. “Kip doesn’t care if it’s right or wrong. He doesn’t want to lose Eric, and you know as well as I do that there’s been talk of that California team coming after him. They’re throwing everything they can at him to poach him. Kip needs to know where Eric’s head is at.”
I grit my teeth, frustration bubbling up inside me. Eric has no idea that this conversation is happening, that Kip and Jason have been using me to get inside information on him. It’s bad enough that I’ve gone along with the fake relationship for the team’s image. I refuse to be some kind of spy.
“I’m not doing it, Jason,” I say firmly. “I’m not spying on him like that.”
Jason’s eyes narrow, and he lets out a low sigh, shaking his head as if I’m the one being unreasonable. “Jessica, you don’t get to decide that. Kip’s already made it clear—he wants answers, and he wants them soon. So unless you want to explain to Kip why you’re refusing to do your job, I suggest you figure something out.”
A wave of guilt washes over me, and I look away from him, my eyes finding Eric again on the ice. He’s laughing with one of the kids, his whole face lighting up in a way that makes my heart flutter. He trusts me, and here I am, being asked to betray that trust.
Jason stands, straightening his jacket before glancing back at me. “I know you don’t like it, Jess. But it’s part of the job. Do what you have to do. Keep your emotions out of it.”
He turns and walks away before I can say anything else, leaving me sitting there, feeling like the floor has been ripped out from under me. I hate this. I hate the position I’m in. I hate that Kip and Jason have put me in this impossible situation, forcing me to choose between my career and my relationship with Eric.
I swallow hard, trying to push down the guilt that’s rising up in my throat. When I agreed to go along with this whole fake relationship idea, I never thought it would come to this. I never thought I’d be sitting here, torn between doing my job and protecting someone I care about.
But I know one thing. I’m not spying on Eric. Jason’s wrong. They can’t force me to do that. So, I won’t.
Eric finishes with the last of the kids and skates toward me, a grin still on his face as he pulls off his helmet. “Hey, you ready to go?”
I force a smile, nodding as I stand up. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”
Minutes later, as we walk out of the arena and head back to the car, I can feel the weight of what Jason said pressing down on me. I should tell Eric. I should come clean and tell him everything—that Kip and Jason have been pressuring me to spy on him, that they don’t trust him to stay with the Avalanche, that they’re using me to keep tabs on him.
But I can’t. Not right now. Things are good between us, and the last thing I want to do is ruin that. I don’t want him to feel betrayed. I don’t want him to think I’ve been using him.
So, instead, I stay quiet. I shove the guilt down as far as it will go and pretend like everything’s fine.
In the car, the silence between us is comfortable, but my thoughts are anything but. I glance over at Eric, watching as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel, humming along to the Christmas music playing softly on the radio. He looks so relaxed, so happy, and it only makes the guilt weigh heavier on me.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks suddenly, his eyes flicking over to me.
I blink, startled. “Oh, nothing. Just… today was nice.”
He nods, smiling. “Yeah, it was. Those kids were great, weren’t they?”
“They were,” I agree, my voice softer than I intend. I watch him for a moment, taking in the way his face softens when he talks about the kids, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. He’s so much more than I ever expected him to be. He’s kind and funny and genuine, and the thought of betraying him in any way makes me feel sick.
When we pull into the driveway of the house, the familiar warmth of the Stanton home greets us, the Christmas lights twinkling in the early evening light. Eric parks the car, and we head inside, the cozy smell of pine and cookies wrapping around us like a blanket.
For a moment, I allow myself to forget about Jason, Kip, and everything else weighing on my mind. I let myself get lost in the warmth of the house, in the companionship that Eric and I share.
We settle onto the couch together, and Eric flips on a Christmas movie, his arm draped casually around my shoulders. I lean into him, letting myself relax into his warmth, trying to push all the doubts and guilt aside.
But even as we sit there, laughing at the cheesy jokes on the screen, I can’t shake the nagging feeling in the back of my mind. What if Eric knew? What if he knew that Jason and Kip were pressuring me to spy on him? Would he feel betrayed? Or would he understand that I never wanted to be put in this position?
I close my eyes, trying to will the thoughts away, but they cling to me like a shadow I can’t escape. For now, I’ll keep the truth to myself. I don’t want to ruin what we have.
But I know, deep down, that this secret won’t stay buried forever. And when the time comes to tell him, I just hope it won’t be too late.