42. Niall
The locker room was chaos in the best way. Gear clattered against the floor, the air thick with sweat, victory, and the high-pitched hiss of a celebratory spray of Gatorade being launched in someone’s direction. Music blasted from the speakers, our victory still thrumming through the air like an electric charge. Guys were shouting, clapping each other on the back, and grinning like idiots. The energy was contagious.
Hunter was still half out of his gear, chirping Micah about his fight. “I swear, you landed, like, one clean punch. Just one.”
“Bullshit,” Micah shot back. “I had that guy seeing stars.”
“Yeah, and then he put you on your ass,” Roman teased, grinning as he unwrapped his tape. “Real warrior move.”
I sat on the bench, peeling off my gear, grinning to myself as I let the noise wash over me. My muscles ached in the way that meant we’d left everything out there on the ice. We’d beaten Arizona. I’d scored the game-winning goal. And more than that—I’d finally stopped running from what I wanted. Who I wanted.
Eli .
The memory of his lips against mine, the way he clung to me in the stands, still sent a thrill through my chest.
But I was waiting. Not for my teammates to say anything, but for the possibility. The what-if. I hadn’t exactly kept my personal life a secret tonight. I’d kissed Eli in front of thousands of people, and the guys weren’t idiots. They knew what that meant.
But nobody said a word about it. Not in a way that mattered.
“Hell of a game, Cap,” Roman said, tossing me a water bottle. “I mean, minus that first shift where you looked like you’d rather be in the stands than on the ice.”
Laughter rippled through the room, and I rolled my eyes, cracking open the bottle. “Just making sure you guys got some ice time before I won the game for you.”
The guys booed, chucking tape balls at me. Logan flipped me off. “Delusional, bro. That’s what you are.”
I ran a towel through my damp hair, shaking my head as I caught Nico smirking at me from across the room.
“What?”
He just laughed, stretching out his bruised leg. “Man, you should’ve seen your face when you jumped those boards. You looked like you were about to drop the gloves with security.”
Micah snorted. “Dude went full NHL highlight reel. And for what? A kiss?”
“Not just a kiss,” Roman chimed in, grinning. “A full-blown, arena-shutting, ESPN-Top-10 kind of moment. We’re never letting you live this down.”
I rolled my eyes, not bothering to fight the smirk tugging at my lips. “Good. I don’t want to forget it.”
A chorus of fake gagging noises rippled through the locker room.
“Jesus, Captain, at least warn us before you go all romance novel in here,” Roman groaned and flopped onto the bench beside me.
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, tossing my towel at him.
I caught the way Roman glanced around the room, his usual easygoing grin just a little sharper. The unspoken warning was clear—if anyone had anything stupid to say, they could keep it to themselves. But no one did.
Instead, it was all chirps and relentless teasing.
Micah shook his head. “Can’t wait to see that highlight reel. ‘ Captain of Michigan U’s Mavericks, Fearless on the Ice, Reckless for Love .’”
Nico gasped dramatically. “Oh my God, we should get that on a banner.”
Laughter erupted again, and I just shook my head, smirking. They were insufferable.
Rookie Coach finally cut through the noise, clapping his hands once. The room settled—mostly. “Hell of a game, boys,” he said, nodding. “We played hard, we fought for every inch, and we got the result we wanted. But,” he continued, and every guy in the room straightened, “we’re not done. We face these assholes again tomorrow, and they’re gonna come at us twice as hard. Enjoy the win tonight, but don’t get comfortable. We have work to do.”
I stood, looking around at my team—my guys. “Coach is right. We played our asses off, and we deserved that win. But we’re not satisfied. Tomorrow, we go out there and take another one. No letting up.”
Shouts of agreement rang through the locker room. The energy was high, adrenaline still pumping.
I glanced at my phone.
10:47.
Eli was outside waiting for me.
Coach must’ve caught the look on my face because he smirked. “Go ahead, Caldwell. You earned it.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I stripped out of the rest of my gear in record time, hitting the showers so fast I barely registered the hot water.
By the time I was dressed, towel-drying my hair, the guys were still celebrating, still loud as hell.
Roman grinned. “Where you running off to, Cap?”
I gave them all a look, half-exasperated, half-amused. “Like you don’t know.”
Hunter’s smirk was downright smug. “Tell Eli we say hi.”
Micah snorted. “Nah, tell him to keep you distracted so I can steal your first-line minutes.”
“Yeah, not happening,” I said, shouldering my bag. “Later, boys.”
I barely heard their chirping.
I flipped them off over my shoulder, ignoring their laughter as I made my way toward the door. Toward Eli. Toward the guy who’d been waiting for me all along.
And then?—
There he was.
Eli. Standing against the wall, arms crossed. I remembered the night when he waited for me right there all those weeks ago. The night when he was still just my roommate. Tonight, and for all the other nights he’d have me, he was mine.
His face lit up when he saw me, and just like that, the teasing, the exhaustion, the everything, melted away.
I crossed the distance in a few strides, reaching for him, tugging him close. He fit against me—like he was made to fit me perfectly.
And he really did.
“Hey, Captain,” he murmured, stepping in close, his fingers curling around the front of my jacket. He pressed a kiss to my jaw, slow and deliberate. “Took you long enough.”
I hummed, my hands finding his hips. “Had to congratulate the team.”
Eli let out a breath, his fingers skimming just under the hem of my jacket. “Did it involve you being a grumpy hard ass?”
I huffed, feigning offense, but the warmth in my chest betrayed me. “Maybe.”
Eli laughed, full and unguarded, his arms sliding around my waist. He fit against me like he belonged there—like he’d always been meant to.
“Let’s go home,” he said, voice quieter now, like it was just for me.
I exhaled, my forehead tipping against his, my grip tightening like I’d never let go. And for the first time in a long time, something inside me finally, truly settled.
Yeah. Home.
With him.
* * *