Chapter 17 One Win Away #2
The thought lingered between them.
Professional athletes rarely talked about life after the game.
Most pretended it would never arrive.
Noah had learned long ago that pretending never changed reality.
“What do you think you’ll miss most?”
Mason asked.
Noah didn’t answer immediately.
“The routine.”
“The locker room.”
“The sound of skates cutting fresh ice early in the morning.”
He smiled.
“And probably Tyler saying something ridiculous before every practice.”
Mason laughed.
“I don’t think retirement can protect us from Tyler.”
“You’re probably right.”
“What about you?”
Noah asked.
Mason looked thoughtfully across the river.
“I’ll miss the competition.”
“The feeling before puck drop.”
“The crowd.”
He paused.
“And Coach pretending he isn’t emotional after big wins.”
Noah chuckled.
“I’ve definitely seen him wipe away a few tears.”
“He’ll deny it forever.”
They laughed together before another comfortable silence settled.
This one felt different.
As though both of them sensed the conversation wasn’t really about hockey anymore.
Mason spoke first.
“Have you ever thought about where you’d want to live afterward?”
Noah smiled.
“I have.”
“Somewhere quieter.”
“Near water.”
“Maybe with enough land that neighbors can’t complain if I decide to learn woodworking.”
Mason blinked.
“Woodworking?”
“My grandfather built furniture.”
“He taught me when I was a kid.”
“I haven’t touched it in years.”
“I had no idea.”
“There’s a lot you still don’t know.”
Mason smiled.
“I like discovering those things.”
“What about you?”
Noah asked.
“What does retirement look like?”
Mason thought for a long moment.
“I honestly don’t know.”
“I used to picture a huge house.”
“Fancy cars.”
Everything a successful hockey player was supposedly meant to want.”
He shook his head.
“Now?”
He looked toward Noah.
“I just want somewhere that feels peaceful.”
“A kitchen big enough for cooking.”
“A backyard.”
“Maybe a dog.”
“You’ve always wanted another dog.”
“I have.”
“And definitely a coffee machine that actually works.”
Noah laughed.
“Very important.”
“Extremely.”
The conversation drifted naturally from dreams to possibilities.
Neither of them spoke as though they were making promises.
They simply imagined.
A road trip through the Canadian Rockies after retirement.
Watching the northern lights from a quiet cabin.
Learning to surf badly somewhere warm.
Visiting Italy because Noah insisted Mason needed to experience real pasta.
Traveling through Japan during cherry blossom season.
Spending Christmas with both families once life became less complicated.
Building traditions that belonged only to them.
Every dream somehow included the other without either of them having to explain why.
“I’ve never really wanted to travel.”
Mason admitted.
“Not before.”
“What changed?”
He smiled softly.
“I finally found someone I want to see the world with.”
The words settled warmly inside Noah’s chest.
He reached over and intertwined their fingers.
“I’d go anywhere with you.”
“I know.”
Mason looked down at their joined hands.
“You know what’s funny?”
“What?”
“When we first became roommates...”
“I couldn’t wait for the apartment renovations to finish.”
Noah smiled.
“I remember.”
“I kept counting the weeks.”
“And now?”
Mason laughed quietly.
“I honestly can’t imagine living anywhere you aren’t.”
Neither could Noah.
The realization felt wonderfully simple.
Love had slowly transformed a temporary condo into a home.
Not because of the building.
Because of the person inside it.
The evening grew cooler.
They carried their mugs back into the living room before settling together on the couch beneath a shared blanket.
Tomorrow would bring another game.
Another battle.
Another step toward the championship.
Tonight belonged only to them.
Mason rested comfortably against Noah’s shoulder.
“I’ve been thinking about something else.”
“Another dangerous sentence.”
“It probably is.”
He smiled.
“I spent so much of this season being afraid.”
“I know.”
“I was afraid of what I was feeling.”
“Afraid of what people might think.”
“Afraid of losing hockey.”
“Afraid of losing myself.”
He looked up.
“The strange thing is...”
“The more honest I became...”
“The less afraid I felt.”
Noah brushed his fingers gently through Mason’s hair.
“You were never really afraid of love.”
“No?”
“You were afraid of being alone.”
Mason considered that.
“I think you’re right.”
The room fell peacefully quiet.
Outside, rain began tapping softly against the balcony windows.
Noah listened for a moment before speaking.
“No matter what happens tomorrow...”
Mason looked at him.
“No matter what happens in this series...”
He gently lifted Mason’s hand and kissed the bracelet resting around his wrist.
“I don’t want us to lose sight of this.”
“Our life.”
“Our future.”
“Hockey won’t last forever.”
“I hope we do.”
Emotion shimmered in Mason’s eyes.
“We will.”
“You really believe that?”
Mason nodded without hesitation.
“I do.”
He shifted until they were facing each other completely.
“When I was scared...”
“I almost pushed you away.”
“I know.”
“I’ll always regret that.”
“No.”
Noah shook his head gently.
“Don’t.”
“It brought us here.”
Mason smiled sadly.
“Still...”
He took both of Noah’s hands.
“I never want fear making decisions for me again.”
Noah squeezed his fingers.
“Neither do I.”
The promise formed naturally.
Without rehearsing.
Without ceremony.
Simply two people choosing each other once more.
“Whatever happens in the playoffs...”
Mason said quietly.
“We face it together.”
Noah nodded.
“Together.”
“No more running.”
“No more pretending.”
“No more letting fear decide our future.”
Mason smiled.
“I like that.”
“So do I.”
They leaned together until their foreheads touched.
Outside, the rain continued falling.
Inside, the condo felt warmer than ever.
Tomorrow they would skate beneath bright lights with thousands of fans watching every shift.
Tonight there were no crowds.
No cameras.
No expectations.
Only two men quietly building a future that stretched far beyond the next game.
As sleep gradually pulled them toward morning, Noah realized something.
For months, he’d believed the greatest prize waiting at the end of the season was a championship trophy.
Now he understood the truth.
The greatest victory had already happened.
It had arrived disguised as a flooded apartment, an unexpected roommate, and a man brave enough to choose love over fear.
Whatever happened in the conference finals, they had already found something far more lasting.
They had found forever.
· ? ·