26. Sophie
Chapter 26
Sophie
" T his is either the best idea you've ever had, or the stupidest," Cynthia says, helping me set up the projector in Julia's living room. "I honestly can't decide which."
"That's reassuring."
"I'm just saying—organizing a surprise video presentation for a man who hates surprises and doesn't trust emotions? Bold move."
"He doesn't hate surprises," Julia calls from the kitchen. "He hates not being in control."
"Again, super reassuring." I adjust the screen for the tenth time. "Maybe this is a mistake."
"Too late now." Ryland appears with his laptop. "I already got everyone's videos. Even Grandad figured out how to record one."
"Really?" Julia sounds skeptical. "Dad managed technology?"
"Well, after Mom helped him for like, half the afternoon."
I sink onto the couch, suddenly overwhelmed. "What if he doesn't come?"
"He'll come." Julia joins us, carrying snacks. "I told him Natalia has a presentation for school that she needs him to watch."
"You used his own daughter as bait?"
"Please." She hands me a glass of wine. "I'm using my entire family as bait. Because someone needs to show my idiot brother what he's determined to throw away."
"I'm not…" I stop at her look. "Okay, fine. But what if this makes things worse?"
"Worse than you both being miserable?" Ryland starts setting up his computer
Before I can respond, my phone buzzes.
Brad: Did you really call in sick just to stage a rom-com moment for the Ice Man?
Followed by: Because if so, I've never been prouder.
"Everyone's very invested in this," I mutter.
"Because everyone's tired of watching you both be stupid," Cynthia says bluntly. "Now, are we doing this or what?"
I look around the room—at Julia arranging snacks, at Ryland queuing up videos, at all the people who somehow became my family.
"Yeah," I say finally. "We're doing this."
"Good." Julia checks her phone. "Because he just picked up Natalia from practice. They'll be here in ten minutes."
"Ten minutes?" My voice goes squeaky. "But I'm not ready! I need to…"
"You need to breathe," Cynthia cuts in. "And maybe practice what you're going to say?"
"I had a whole speech planned..."
"And?"
"And I forgot all of it!"
"Classic." She pats my shoulder. "Just speak from the heart. That's kind of the point of all this, right?"
Right. The heart. The thing Evan's been trying to protect. The thing I'm about to expose in front of his entire family. No pressure.
"Okay, let's run through the plan one more time," Julia says, pacing. "First, we show the family messages..."
"Starting with Natalia's," Ryland cuts in. "Because no one can resist her puppy eyes."
"Then the team compilation—"
"Which Coach Martinez helped edit," I add. "Though he claims he 'just happened to have footage lying around.'"
"Right." Julia checks her list. "Then the highlight reel of Evan's best saves…"
"Color-coded according to Sophie's system," Cynthia interjects with a smirk.
"I was being thorough!"
"You were being adorably obsessed."
Before I can defend my note-taking system, headlights sweep across the window.
"They're here!" Julia hisses. "Places, everyone!"
"We're not putting on a play," I point out.
"Shh. This is better than a play. This is romance."
"Oh God."
"Too late to back out now." Ryland dims the lights. "Ready?"
No. Definitely not.
But then I hear Natalia's voice in the driveway. "But Dad, I worked really hard on this presentation!"
"At Julia's house? At night?"
"It's... a special presentation…"
I have to give the kid credit—she sells it well.
The front door opens, and suddenly this is very, very real. "Jules?" Evan's voice carries from the entryway. "Why are all the lights…"
He stops in the doorway, taking in the scene: the projector, the screen, his family trying (and failing) to look casual.
Me.
"What is this?"
"This," Julia says before I can lose my nerve, "is an intervention."
"A what?"
"She means a presentation," I step forward. "About...about something incredibly important."
His expression goes carefully neutral. "Sophie…"
"Please." I gesture to the couch. "Just...watch? Then you can leave if you want. But watch first."
He looks at Natalia, who deploys her best puppy eyes. "Please, Daddy? I helped make it!"
For a moment, I think he might refuse. Might walk out. Might... but then he sits, pulling Natalia into his lap. "Fine." His voice is gruff. "Show me."
Ryland hits play before anyone can change their minds.
The screen flickers to life, showing Natalia in her hockey gear.
"Hi, Daddy! This isn't really a school presentation. It's something better. It's about family. And love. And how sometimes the best things are worth taking a risk on..."
The video continues—messages from teammates about his leadership, from rookies about his mentoring, and from his parents about his strength.
But it's the everyday moments that hit hardest. Evan teaching Natalia to butterfly slide in the kitchen. Helping Ryland perfect his shot late at night. Making everyone feel safe. Protected. Loved.
"See?" Video-Julia appears. "This is who you are, little brother. Not the Ice Man. Not the divorced dad with trust issues. Just...you. The guy who takes care of everyone. Who loves completely even when it scares you."
The screen splits to show dozens of moments—big saves and quiet victories, family dinners and practice sessions.
All scored to the song that was playing the first time he kissed me in his kitchen.
Finally, my own face appears.
"Everyone says you're made of ice," Video-Me says softly. "But they don't see what I see. They don't see how much warmth you hold inside. How carefully you guard it. How much courage it takes to let anyone close enough to feel it..."
The screen fades to black. For a moment, no one moves.
Then Natalia breaks the silence. "Did you like it, Daddy? I helped pick the music!"
"It was..." He clears his throat. "It was something."
"That's not an answer," Julia mutters.
"Maybe..." I step forward. "Maybe everyone could give us a minute?"
Everyone files out, leaving me alone with Evan and what feels like every emotion we've been trying to hide.
"So," he says finally.
"So."
"That was..."
"Too much?" I wrap my arms around myself. "I know it's a lot, but I needed you to see…"
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do all this?" He gestures at the screen. "After everything?"
"Because." I take a deep breath. "Because I needed to do this. To show you…"
He stands abruptly. "Sophie…"
"No, let me finish. Please?" I step closer. "Because this story? Our story? It's not about hockey or features or professional anything. It's about family. About love. About second chances."
"I can't…"
"Can't what? Trust me? Let me in? Love me back?"
The words hang between us, heavy with everything we've been afraid to say.
"All of it," he says finally. "None of it. I don't know."
"Then let me help you know." I close the distance between us. "Let me show you that not everyone leaves. That some people stay. That some people choose you, every day, not because of what you can give them, but because of who you are."
"And who am I?"
I reach for his hand. "You're the guy I fell in love with. Ice and all."
He stares at our joined hands.
"I'm not good at this," he says finally.
"At what?"
"Trusting. Letting people in. Being..."
"Being loved?"
He nods.
"Good thing you have me, then." I squeeze his hand. "Because I'm really good at loving you. Even when you're being stupid about it."
A laugh escapes him—rough but real.
"I pushed you away."
"So, pull me back."
"I hurt you."
"So, make it up to me."
"I'm still scared."
"Me too." I step closer. "But maybe that's okay. Maybe being scared together is better than being safe apart."
He looks at me—really looks at me—and my heart thuds.
"You made a video."
"I made a truth." I smile slightly. "Several truths, actually. Want to hear them?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Always."
He squeezes my hand. "Tell me."
"Truth one: your family loves you. Completely. Even when you're being an idiot."
"Fair."
"Truth two: you're not the Ice Man. You're just...Evan. And that's more than enough."
His breath catches. "And truth three?" he asks softly.
"Truth three is..." I take a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest. "I love you. All of you. The walls and the warmth and everything in between. And I'm not going anywhere. Even if you try to push me away again. Even if…"
He steps closer, his hand reaching up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing gently against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. His eyes search mine, and I can see the struggle within him, the battle between his fears and his desires.
"Sophie," he whispers, his voice sounding as if it’s been scratched raw.
"Yes?" I barely manage.
"I...I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," I tell him, grabbing his hand in mine. "Just feel. Just be here, with me, in this moment."
He leans in, his forehead resting against mine. I can feel his breath on my lips, warm and inviting. His eyes flutter closed, and for a moment, we just stand there, breaths mingling, hearts beating as one.
Then, slowly, he tilts his head and presses his lips to mine.
The kiss is soft at first, a gentle exploration, a question asked without words. I answer by kissing him back, my hands reaching up to tangle in his silky hair, pulling him closer. His arms wrap around me, one hand still cupping my cheek, the other splayed across my back, holding me tight.
The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more passionate. His lips move against mine, his tongue tracing the seam of my mouth, seeking entrance, and I open to him, a soft sigh escaping me as his tongue sweeps in, tangling with mine.
His hand moves from my cheek to my neck, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin there, making me gasp into his mouth. He swallows the sound, and I match his fervor, my nails scraping gently against his scalp.
A low growl from deep within his chest rumbles as he walks me backward until I'm pressed against the wall, his body flush against mine.
I can feel his heart pounding, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.
His lips leave mine to trail kisses down my neck, and my body curves towards him, begging for more.
"Evan," I whisper, my voice hoarse—strangled with lust.
He looks up at me, blue eyes deeper in color than ever before. "Sophie," he murmurs. “I…I need you."
"I need you too," I tell him, my hands reaching for his, guiding them back to my body. "So much."
He captures my lips in another searing kiss, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me against him. I can feel his entire body, hard and insistent against mine, and it takes everything in me not to moan into his mouth, not to press my aching breasts into his chest as he pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against mine once more.
My body is tingling, nearly on fire with the need for the friction between us.
He sighs, and I join him, laughing in a soft release of shaky breath.
“I want you to know…” he starts.
“Yeah?”
“That I’m still going to mess up," he warns, his voice a soft murmur.
"Undoubtedly," I whisper back.
"Still going to be overprotective."
"Definitely."
"Still going to need time to..."
"To what?" I ask, my eyes searching his.
"To believe this is real." He cups my face, his thumbs brushing gently against my cheeks. "To believe you're real."
"I can work with that." I kiss him softly, a gentle press of my lips against his. "As long as you're willing to try."
"Yeah?" he asks, his voice hitching, a tad higher.
"Yeah." I smile against his lips. "Besides, someone’s going to have to teach Natalia advanced geometry using hockey stats. Who would that be besides me?"
He laughs—real and warm and free. It's a sound I've missed, a sound I've longed to hear again.
"Is that what this is about? Using me for my daughter's math homework?" he teases, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Obviously." I grin, my heart feeling lighter than it has in weeks. "The kissing is just a bonus."
From the kitchen, someone squeals, and we both laugh, our bodies still pressed together, our breaths still mingling.
"They're all watching, aren't they?" he mutters.
"Definitely."
"Want to give them a show?"
Before I can respond, he dips me into another kiss, ignoring the cheers and whistles from our audience.
Because that's the thing about love—sometimes it needs witnesses.
Sometimes it needs family.
Sometimes, it needs a grand gesture and a homemade video and every ounce of courage you possess.
But mostly?
Mostly, it just needs two people brave enough to try.