Chapter 16 #2
I’m thrilled you’re here and even more thrilled for Atlas and for Grayce. If you’d like to see what we do up close, I’d love to host you for the next home playoff game in the owner’s suite. No pressure—only an open seat and a very good view. Bring whoever you like (little ones welcome for pregame).
Brienne
My eyes sting. “Is this normal?” I ask, voice not cooperating.
“Brienne’s not normal,” Willa says fondly. “She’s better.”
“She takes care of the people who take care of her people,” Farren adds. “That includes you.”
I run my finger over the ink like I can feel her intention in the loop of each letter. “I don’t know if I belong in an owner’s suite.”
Winnie taps the paper, gentle. “You belong where you’re wanted. That seems pretty clear.”
I swallow, giving a small nod. “Okay.”
Everything feels heavy, but then Tempe says, “Did you know that Rafferty kissed me before he ever spoke a word to me?”
My eyes widen. “You’re kidding. Tell me everything.”
Next starts a round of stories on each woman’s meet-cute with her guy and I understand a little more of the dynamic. These women are all brilliant, confident, and know what they want.
Conversation drifts after that, the women slipping back into easy banter about future brunch meetups and which of them is brave enough to host a game night with all the players and kids under one roof.
I listen more than I talk, but the difference now is I don’t feel like an outsider eavesdropping.
I feel included. Like my chair was always meant to be at this table.
We pay our bills, we hug, we make overly ambitious plans to do this again “soon.” At the door, I turn back and find six women watching me with the kind of attention I used to associate with assessment and judgment. I don’t feel that at all, and that’s important for me to remember.
Outside, the day feels brighter, like someone turned up the saturation.
I walk to my car with Brienne’s card in my pocket and the oddest ache in my ribs.
I’ve never had girlfriends. Never sat at a table and been tugged into a circle like it was the most natural thing in the world.
It feels like a muscle I didn’t know I had, finally stretching.
?
The street outside Atlas’s house is lined with cars but the driveway remains empty. My first thought is that I’m at the wrong house. My second is that Atlas has added a side hustle as a valet, but then I assume one of the neighbors is having a party.
I shoulder open the front door to the sound of cheering.
From what sounds like an army.
Frowning, I set my purse and keys down on the foyer table and walk to the back of the house where the “man cave” is located. It’s hilarious to me that Atlas actually has one because he hardly spends any time in it, but it’s being taken advantage of today.
The den is full of men. Not packed, but enough that I freeze in the doorway.
My eyes go first to Grayce, because she’s perched on the thigh of a man I don’t recognize, babbling like she’s known him her whole life.
Two other strangers are on the rug, building a soft-block barricade for her to knock down.
She topples it with glee by kicking her leg, and the three of them erupt into laughter like this is a normal day for them.
The TV blares with a hockey game, a ticker crawling blue and white across the bottom of the screen.
Atlas comes up behind me and I turn to find him with a tray of sodas balanced on one palm, bare feet silent against the hardwood.
“Hey,” he says, grin spreading like he’s been waiting all day. “You’re just in time. Third period’s about to start.”
“Third period?”
“The Carolina Cold Fury and the Vancouver Flash are playing game five. It’s one of the most competitive matchups of the playoffs.”
“Oh,” I murmur, and wonder if this is something I’m supposed to know.
“Come here,” he says, voice low and reassuring. “I’ll introduce you.”
He steers me inside and starts introductions. “You already know Lucky.”
Lucky lifts a hand from the armchair. “Winnie said you survived brunch. Mad respect.”
I manage a laugh, tension easing a fraction.
Atlas gestures to the man with Grayce on his knee. “That’s Kace. He’s single, and despite appearances, very safe with babies.”
Kace bounces Grayce once, and she shrieks in delight. “She approves.”
Atlas nods toward the two on the floor. “Penn—you’ll connect him to Mila—and North, who’s with Farren.”
Penn flashes a grin. “Mila texted me already. She loves you.”
North gives me a quiet nod. “Good to meet you finally.”
“And over there,” Atlas goes on, pointing to a man with mischievous eyes, “that’s Rafferty. Tempe’s guy.”
“Ahh,” I say with a knowing smirk. “The man who kisses women in grocery stores.”
Rafferty smirks. “It worked out for me, didn’t it?”
I laugh and then Atlas is pointing to a tall, sharp-eyed man on the other couch. “King. Willa’s man.”
King tips his soda. “She said you’d be tough enough to survive this crew.”
“And last but not least, Foster,” Atlas finishes, gesturing to the boyish grin across the rug. “Mazzy’s fiancé.”
“Hi,” Foster says, sheepish. “Mazzy made me promise to behave.”
The knot in my chest loosens a little. They’re strangers, but not strange—just men who belong to the women I spent the morning with. The room doesn’t feel so foreign.
Atlas nods toward the couch. “Come sit. We’re doing sodas only.”
Before I can hesitate, Foster pats the cushion beside him. “C’mon, Maddie. It’s safer than the destruction zone over there.”
I laugh under my breath and sink down, tucking one leg under me. Atlas drops onto the other side, close enough our shoulders brush.
“So,” Penn says, eyes flicking from the TV back to me, “you a big hockey fan?”
The question makes me snort. “Not exactly. Before all this, I couldn’t have told you the difference between a power play and a penalty kill. But I’ve been watching on TV lately, and I like it. More than I thought I would.”
North nods, approving. “Live’s even better. You’ve gotta come to a game.”
I take a sip of soda, nerves skittering as I admit, “Actually, Brienne invited me to the owner’s suite for the next home playoff game.”
“That’s awesome,” Atlas says immediately, his grin big and sure. “You have to go.”
“Definitely,” King adds. “No better way to get hooked.”
Heat creeps up my neck, but it’s the good kind—the kind that feels like belonging.
Grayce squeals, reaching, and Rafferty leans over to scoop her off Kace’s lap. He props her against his chest like it’s the most natural thing in the world. She pats his jaw with her drooly hand, and he grins at her.
I blink, floored. These men are comfortable here, comfortable with her. They came to hang out, to play with blocks on the floor, to make sure Atlas wasn’t alone.
The game whistle blows, pulling everyone’s attention back to the screen. The room leans forward in unison, muttering at the refs, groaning at a missed shot. I don’t know the plays well enough to join in, but it doesn’t matter. The noise wraps around me like a blanket.
Like I did at brunch, I feel like maybe I’ve found another seat I didn’t know was waiting for me.
I glance sideways and catch Atlas watching me instead of the game. Not pressing, not demanding. Just that quiet, anchoring steadiness.
This morning, I chose to show up. Right now, it feels like I’m being shown where I belong.