Chapter 45
Juliet
Tonight’s game against Edmonton has the arena charged with excitement. The crowd is on its feet before the puck even drops, chanting Hunter’s name, roaring every time he touches the ice. This is what we’ve worked for. This moment where he’s not just tolerated but celebrated.
I should think about PR angles, media obligations, and which sponsors are watching from the boxes. Instead, all I can think about is Hux. The way he moves on the ice with purpose instead of rage. The way he’s transformed from the man who couldn’t get through an interview without losing his temper.
In the post-game interviews, when they ask him about his performance, he thinks about my words from months ago.
“I’m just trying to be the guy my team can count on,” he says. “Steady. Reliable. Someone who holds the line when things get chaotic.”
The reporters eat it up, but he’s not saying it for them. He’s saying it to me. And I eat it up with a spoon.
After he’s showered and changed, I find him in the hallway, like always. He lights up and kisses me. “There you are. I’ve been waiting for you.”
I’m the only one who gets to see him like this. Warm, genuine, happy to see me. I’m a lucky woman.
“No, I’ve been waiting for you,” I say, wrinkling my nose. “Are you okay? That bump to your head you took on the ice might have been harder than it looked.”
He smirks. “You might have to nurse me back to health, Dr. Sexy.”
“You stay the dumbest stuff to me sometimes.” I can’t repress a smile. “Good thing I love you.”
“It’s a splendid thing, Monroe.”
I shake my head, smiling. “Let’s get out of here, Hux.”
Hunter offers me an elbow and I take it, my heart light. I definitely made the right choice when I turned down that other job. It might have been more money, but who would make terrible jokes to me?
We’re walking to the parking garage when I see him.
Patrick.
He’s leaning against a concrete pillar, uninvited, smirking like the smug piece of trash he’s always been. My whole body goes rigid.
“What the hell is he doing here?” I mutter.
Hunter doesn’t answer. He just steps in front of me, creating a barrier between Patrick and me.
Patrick strolls up, slow and cocky, like he owns the place. From the corner of my eye, I see a fan recording the interaction with interest. Great, just what I need.
“Didn’t think I’d see you two still playing house.” Patrick looks me up and down with that familiar condescending expression. “Figured this loser would’ve dumped you by now.”
I don’t flinch, but I can feel my whole body going tense.
“Walk away,” Hunter tells him quietly, his voice deadly calm.
Patrick ignores him completely, focusing on me like Hunter isn’t even there.
“Maybe little Juliet really has a thing for damaged goods. She always did like your charity cases. First me when I was struggling, now this washed-up bruiser with anger management issues.”
Hunter steps closer. “Say one more thing.”
Patrick’s smirk widens. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
“You think she really loves you? Please. This is just what Juliet does. She finds broken men and tries to fix them because it makes her feel important. Makes her feel needed.” His voice drops, making sure I can hear every word.
“She’s just weaponizing that tight little body and her fake concern to get what she wants. You’re just the latest project.”
Hunter’s fist connects with Patrick’s jaw before I can even process what’s happening. His punch is so strong that Patrick goes skittering across the concrete like he’s not a 6’ athlete.
“Fuck you!” Hux seethes. “She doesn’t want you, fuckface. She’s forgotten you. Move the fuck on!”
Patrick staggers to his feet, squaring off. I grab Hunter’s arm.
“Hux, please. Don’t. This is what he wants,” I implore.
“Yeah, Hux,” Patrick says, mimicking my voice. “Be a good boy and fuck off. Juliet probably wants to be with a real man–”
“Fuck you, Patrick!” I yell. “As if I would ever let you touch me again. You couldn’t make me come once in five years. Hunter had me screaming his name the first time he went down on me. I get fucked three times a day, every day. Four times if he’s on the road.”
My face is red from shouting at Patrick. Something flashes, catching my eye. Shit. I forgot that there was a camera. I definitely shouldn’t have said anything, but Patrick really knows how to get under my skin.
“Easy, Firecacker.” Hunter grabs me and walks me backward. “You were right. He’s not worth it.”
Patrick steps toward us, his posture threatening.
I know that Hunter is about to end his whole career right now if Patrick doesn’t back down.
He might literally kill him. Thankfully, security finally appears, the guards putting themselves bravely between the two hockey players.
You couldn’t pay me enough money to break up that fight.
There’s blood on Patrick’s lip and fury burning in Hunter’s eyes. I step in front of Hux, my voice shaking.
“This man is stalking me. Get him out of here,” I tell security, pointing to Patrick.
Patrick shouts, “He just proved me right, Juliet. You’re both pathetic.”
I don’t look back as he’s dragged away. I refuse to give him the satisfaction.
“Are you okay?” I ask Hunter once we’re alone.
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I know I fucked up. That’s exactly what he wanted me to do.”
“Hunter.” I tug at his sleeve. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“I just couldn’t let him talk about you like that. I couldn’t—”
“I know why you did it.”
“Are you mad?”
I think about it for a moment. Three months ago, I would have been furious. Would have seen it as a professional catastrophe, a sign that all our work had been for nothing.
Now I just see a man who loves me enough to lose control when someone tries to destroy me.
“No,” I say finally. “I’m not mad.”
But something else is building inside me as we drive home. Something bigger and more terrifying than anger. Patrick’s words keep echoing in my head, not because I believe them, but because they’ve triggered something I’ve been trying not to think about.
Back at the apartment, I pace in front of the windows while Hunter sits on the edge of the bed, watching me with concern.
“Talk to me.” He says.
I keep pacing. If I stop moving, everything inside me is going to explode.
“Patrick told me I was too much. Too intense. Too ambitious. That I should be grateful he put up with me. And I believed him because I didn’t know what love was supposed to look like. I thought it was supposed to hurt. I thought it was supposed to require a sacrifice of who you are.”
Tears are streaming down my face now.
“And then you come along and you make me feel everything. Every messy, complicated, terrifying emotion I’ve spent my whole life trying to control. You make me want things I never thought I could have. You make me believe I deserve them.”
My voice breaks completely.
“I love you. And it terrifies me. It terrifies me how much I need you. How much I want you to stay. How much it would destroy me if you left.”
I’m sobbing now. Ugly, gasping sobs that shake my whole body.
“I know you want to run,” he says, his voice soothing.
I nod, unable to speak. Hux’s voice is emotional.
“I’m staying right here, Monroe.” He takes another step. “I’m not going anywhere. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not ever, if you’ll let me stay.”
I swallow, feeling overwhelmed. “What if I can’t do this? I’m so badly damaged, Hux. What if things get tough and I run away because I’m too scared?”
“Then we’ll figure it out together.” He offers me his hand, waiting.
Waiting for me.
“What if I hurt you?”
He continues to hold out his hand. “Then I’ll forgive you, baby.”
“And what if you hurt me?”
“Then I’ll spend the rest of my life making it right.”
I stare at him through my tears. This man, who’s seen me at my absolute worst and is still here. He’s still choosing me.
“I don’t know how to do this.” My voice is small. Broken. “I don’t know how to be loved like this.”
“Neither do I. We’ll learn together.”
I take his hand, scanning his face. “I’m terrified.”
“Me too.”
Like I’m drowning, I fall into his arms. I let him hold me while I grieve for the girl I was, who never knew she was worthy of this kind of love. I spent so much time protecting myself from the very thing I needed most.
“I love you. I adore you, and it’s terrifying, and I don’t know what to do with it.”
“Just feel it.” His hand strokes my hair. “Don’t control it or analyze it or make it into something manageable. Just let yourself feel it.”
“I don’t know how.”
“You’re doing it right now.”
We stand there for a long time. Me crying, him holding me, both of us finally admitting how scared we are of this thing between us.
When my tears finally subside, he pulls back to look at me.
“Better?”
I nod and wipe my face. “I think so.”
Hux kisses me then, and I kiss him back with desperation. I know that this kiss won’t chase all my fears away or strengthen me. But his touch silences my demons. It drives away the darkness.
What more can I ask than that?