39. Lilah
LILAH
T he scent in the kitchen wraps around me like an embrace.
There’s the smell of spinach and garlic in the air, something warm and buttery from the granola oat cookies cooling on the counter, as the low sound of my playlist drifts from my phone.
I pull the muffin tin out of the oven and smile as the protein-packed egg cups sizzle, the tops golden and puffed up just the way I like them.
Waffles is nestled at the end of the rug, paws tucked under her fuzzy little body, her tail flicking lazily. I glance down at her as I slide the tin onto the stovetop.
“I know,” I murmur to her with a grin. “I’m already becoming that person who talks to her cat. Just wait, I’ll be showing you TikToks next.”
The fridge hums in the background, the smoothie I blended earlier already chilling inside, and the cookies are perfectly crisp at the edges.
For once, everything feels right.
I pad barefoot around Steele’s kitchen, wearing one of his old Western U hockey sweatshirts that hits mid-thigh. The hem brushes my skin as I move, warm and familiar. My hair’s a mess, and I’m makeup free. And I’m happier than I’ve been in years.
The run in with Devon was painful, but it allowed me to close the door on that chapter. Now I can focus on other things.
Things that make me happy.
Like cooking.
There’s something about the rhythm of chopping, stirring, and tasting that brings me peace.
And the idea that I’m feeding someone I care about?
Someone who’s become the center of my whole world?
It means everything.
I’m plating the egg cups when Steele’s footsteps echo through the hallway, and my heart stutters in that annoying way it always does now when he’s near.
It’s difficult to remember there was a time when that didn’t happen.
He walks into the kitchen, damp from his shower, smelling like fresh soap and clean skin. His dark hair is pushed back from his face. He’s wearing joggers and a sleeveless Railers tee that shows off his arms.
The way he’s so easily able to command my attention now is seriously unfair.
A grin spreads across his face. “Why’d you sneak out of bed so early?”
He slides his arms around my waist from behind before pulling me into him and pressing a kiss against the side of my neck just below my ear.
“Mmm,” I say, tilting my head as goose bumps rise along my skin. “Twice wasn’t enough for you last night?”
“Nope.” He nips my neck lightly. “Might need a third this morning to tide me over until after practice.”
With a laugh, I wiggle out of his arms, handing him a plate with an egg cup. “You’re insatiable. Here, try this and tell me what you think. ”
He raises an eyebrow and bites into the muffin. “Holy shit,” he says around a mouthful. “This is incredible.”
My smile stretches wider. “Really?”
“Absolutely.” He grabs another before I can stop him, already chewing. “You’re gonna ruin me, you know that?”
I tuck a strand of stray hair behind my ear and lean back against the counter. Nerves flutter in my belly as I blurt, “So, I had an idea. That’s why I got up early.”
His gaze flicks to mine. It’s steady and attentive. “Yeah? What kind of idea?”
I bite my lip. “What would you think if I started making healthy meals and snacks? You know, for people who are health-conscious, athletes, or busy professionals. Like meal prep, protein treats, baked goods with macros in mind.”
He watches me without interrupting, which only makes me more nervous.
“I’ve always loved to cook. And after everything with the law firm…
I just don’t think I want to go back. I don’t know if I ever really wanted it in the first place.
” I steady myself and say what I’ve been holding in.
“But this? Cooking? It makes me feel like me . And I think I could be really good at it.”
Steele doesn’t say anything for a second, just keeps chewing as his gaze stays locked on mine.
And then he smiles. “I think it’s a great idea, Lilah.”
“You do?”
“Of course. You light up in this kitchen.” He glances around the room and gestures to the counter, the food, and Waffles, who’s still snoozing in the corner. “I’ve never seen you more in your element. Now’s the perfect time to take a leap and go after something that makes you happy.”
Emotion swells inside me. Before I can stop myself, I launch forward and wrap my arms around him, hugging him tight.
His arms lock around my waist and his chin drops to rest on my head .
“You’re always so damn supportive,” I mumble into his shirt. “How did I get so lucky?”
“I’m the lucky one,” he says, dropping a kiss on the top of my head.
When I finally pull back, he grins. “You should make a batch of whatever you’re planning next, and I’ll bring it to the arena. We can let the guys try it.”
“You’d do that?”
“Hell yeah. If they like it, you’ve got yourself an early focus group.”
I beam. “Okay. I can do that.”
“Of course you can.” He taps my nose. “Now, how long do I have before the timer for your next batch goes off?”
“About twenty minutes.”
“Perfect.” He reaches for a granola cookie and gives me a mischievous look. “That’s enough time to drag you back to bed.”
I laugh. “Steele…”
“You’ll be my dessert,” he teases.
Waffles meows from the corner.
“Even Waffles is judging you right now,” I say with a grin.
“Whatever,” he replies, picking me up bridal-style. “She can be in charge of the kitchen while you’re gone.”
And with that, we disappear down the hall in a tangle of laughter, kisses, and egg muffin crumbs.
After Steele leaves for practice, I clean the counters, pack up a few muffins for his teammates, and am elbow-deep in a different recipe when my phone rings.
I hit answer on speaker. “Hey, Rina! What’s up?”
“Have you been online at all this morning?”
“Nope, I got up early to start breakfast and bake. Why? What’s going on?” I pause, narrowing my eyes. “What did Oliver do now? Or is it Zane and his barely-legal girlfriend? Please tell me they’re not plastered all over Railers Rumors again.”
Instead of laughing, she remains strangely quiet.
“Rina?” I drop the spoon into the mixing bowl and wipe my hands as unease skitters down my spine.
“It’s Steele.”
My stomach pinches. “What about him?”
She exhales. “Railers Rumors posted a photo of you two, and it’s going viral.”
“Okay, so what? Why is that a big deal?”
“It was taken at Gold Coast Table. You’re standing in front of him, and his hand is wrapped around your throat.”
The image slams into me like a flashbang. I remember the moment. It’s when he asked if I’d made a decision yet.
“I don’t understand.”
“The angle makes it look like he’s choking you,” Rina says, tone uncharacteristically low. “Like he’s hurting you.”
“H-he wasn’t. He didn’t.” My voice trembles. “That’s n-not what it was.”
“I know. I know, Lila. But the internet doesn’t care about that. Comments are already flooding in. People are calling him abusive.”
My stomach flips. I press a hand to it, trying not to throw up. “This can’t be happening.”
“Just… don’t look at it. I’m working on it. I’ve already contacted the site to try to get it taken down, but it’s spreading fast. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks, Rina,” I whisper.
We hang up, and despite her warning, I open the browser and type in Steele’s name.
It’s the first image that pops up.
They zoomed in, cropped out the world, and left only a story they wanted to tell .
My expression is caught in a moment of raw need that looks reckless without context.
His hand, always steady and worshipful, becomes something darker through a lens hungry for scandal.
Something sharp twists in my gut as I scroll through the comments.
I’m not surprised. He’s always been aggressive on the ice.
He’s clearly controlling her.
Disgusting.
She needs help.
That’s all it takes for the room to spin. My legs give out, and I drop onto the stool beside Waffles, who meows in alarm and jumps down.
I can’t believe this.
One moment taken out of context.
A second of affection turned into something ugly.
And Steele has no idea.