16. Finn #2
Arnaud grinned. “Oui, and you are like… how you say… a freaking action hero, non?”
Walker groaned and sat in his cubby, pulling me down with him. “Not a hero. We were trying to keep a kid safe.”
Chip was suddenly serious. “Statistically, intervention in high-risk situations by bystanders reduces harm by up to 43 percent. Most people freeze. You didn’t.” His voice was quiet, but the room stilled for a second.
Then, Arnaud nodded solemnly. “Still sounds like a hero to me.”
Taft nodded. “Not everyone would’ve done it.”
That was the end of it. No jabs, no jokes. Just respect.
When Walker and the art boys stepped onto the ice a few minutes later, the guys who were already out there noticed. Sticks tapped on the ice one by one, and the noise echoed across the practice arena—sharp, steady, and unmistakably for him.
Walker froze for a second, then glanced up, eyes wide, mouth open as though he might say something, but he didn’t. He just nodded back, silent but grateful.
Coach blew his whistle. “Warm-up laps. Let’s move.”
Walker skated off with the others, but I caught the look on his face before he turned, something tight and shining in his expression. He didn’t say it, but I knew.
They had his back.
He had my back.
Everything was okay for the moment.
Walker, ever the protector, had insisted we take a suite on the top floor of a fancy-ass hotel. “Best security,” he’d said when I’d raised an eyebrow at the price tag. “And I have the money, so don’t argue.”
I did try to argue, but he kissed me and promised me I was his to look after and fuck, I liked that.
I liked it a lot. And after everything, I wasn’t going to argue. It was quiet, tucked away, and I could sleep without jumping at every noise.
The arraignment was brief but loaded. Aster messaged me the moment it was done.
The charges were an unlawful possession of a firearm, assault on school property, endangering a minor, and resisting arrest. Jamie’s dad had pleaded not guilty, but the judge wasn’t buying the act.
No bail. No conditions. Remanded straight into custody.
I didn’t know what justice looked like in cases like this, where damage had already been done, where trauma clung to everyone it touched, but maybe this was a start.
A few days after the incident, I was back in the classroom, a temporary one, with the same set of kids, minus Jamie.
He was taking some extra time but was due back on Monday.
The room was different, and the vibe was more subdued.
But the kids? They were resilient. They watched me carefully as if they were still waiting to see if I was okay.
So, I told them I was fine, told them jokes, and held them when they got upset.
I spent most of the days making their days happy.
If I went home exhausted from reliving the event in the media or having cameras outside the school, Walker was there, making things better, one hug and kiss at a time.
And now, I was meeting his sister, and he was meeting Connor, and it was surreal.
The bistro Harper had booked was warm and cozy, the low hum of conversation filling the air as we followed the hostess to a corner table.
Walker wasn’t hiding who he was, but the place was quiet enough so that if they did know, they didn’t stop talking to stare.
Candles flickered on every tabletop, casting soft shadows across the walls.
It smelled of garlic, wine, and something rich and buttery.
Comfort food, comfort atmosphere. The kind of warm, inviting scent that wrapped around you like a blanket.
After days of sterile hotel rooms, whispered conversations, and adrenaline-soaked memories, it felt like a hug I didn’t know I needed.
My shoulders eased a little the second we stepped in, the cozy ambience tugging me back toward something that almost felt normal.
This was something we both needed after the week we’d had.
And score… there were no paparazzi.
Connor had gotten there first, seated at the table in a far corner, already nursing a beer.
He stood when he saw us, giving me a quick, warm smile before turning to Walker with a more appraising look.
Not unfriendly, but certainly the kind of assessment that said he was measuring Walker against some invisible scale.
My stomach knotted instinctively. I wanted this to go well, needed it to, even, and I felt a flicker of protectiveness rise in my chest. Walker didn’t deserve to be judged, not after everything.
“Connor, this is Walker,” I said, gesturing between them. “Walker, my brother.”
“Nice to meet you,” Walker said, extending his hand. Connor shook it firmly, their hands lingering a little longer than necessary in that silent communication guys seemed to understand instinctively.
“Good to meet you too,” Connor said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Yeah? All good, I hope.”
“Mostly,” Connor said with a grin, and I could feel Walker relax a little.
Connor tilted his head slightly. “Walker Hannan, NHL’s bad boy with a temper? Some of the stuff on the forums, what I’ve seen in the game, the guy you beat up, just saying… ”
Walker didn’t even blink. “I know you don’t have to take my word for it, but I’m… different now… with Finn. He makes me… ” He dipped his head. “Kinder, to myself and… yeah… ”
Connor held his gaze for a beat longer, then nodded. “Good.” He took a sip of his drink, then added with a smirk, “You hurt him, and… well, I’ll hire three guys to take you down.” He glanced at his slim frame and gave a dry chuckle. “Because I sure as hell can’t do it myself.”
“If I hurt Finn, I’ll stand there and let you wail on me as much as you want.” He tugged at my hand and laced our fingers. “I love your brother, and I would never hurt him.”
Connor nodded. “Noted.” Then, he made a hand gesture with two fingers to his eyes and pointed at Walker, the universal code for watching you.
“Jesus, Con,” I grumped, and Connor and Walker both snorted laughs. Assholes.
Moments later, Harper appeared all smiles and energy, her dark hair falling loose over her shoulders. “Sorry I’m late! Work ran over.”
“You’re fine, Sprite,” Walker assured her, hugging her hard. “Harper, this is my man, Finn.”
My man… my skin heated, and I felt all squirrely inside. How did this man have such power to make me feel wanted?
“Hi. Nice to meet you.” I greeted her with a warm hug. She looked like a mini-Walker, with the same dark eyes and stubborn tilt to her chin. As for her smile… yeah, pure Walker.
She turned to me once we’d all settled, her eyes twinkling. “So, Finn, you’re the guy who’s got my brother acting like a soft puppy instead of a raging defenseman. I gotta say, I didn’t think it was possible.”
I laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should. He’s not easy, you know. All gruff and silent treatment, mood swings, and loyalty issues.”
“Yeah,” I said with a smirk. “And that’s just before breakfast.”
She snorted. “You’re good. You’ll need that quick wit to keep up with him.”
“I’m learning. Slowly.”
Her tone softened then, more sincere. “He’s been through a lot. And I’ve never seen him… like this. He looks at you like you’re the only person in the room.”
I felt my throat tighten. “He means everything to me.”
She nodded, reaching over to touch my arm. “Then, we’re good.”
With introductions done, we ordered drinks and food, and we laughed and joked through dinner.
I watched as Harper’s gaze lingered on Connor.
Her usual animated chatter slowed slightly, her smile softening whenever he spoke.
Connor, too, seemed to sit a little straighter, glancing her way more often than he probably realized.
By the time our dinners arrived, they were both practically glowing. Harper laughed a little too loud at one of Connor’s jokes, and Connor kept asking questions about her job, looking genuinely interested in every answer. Walker caught my eye from across the table and smirked.
I nudged his knee under the table. “They’re either falling in love or plotting world domination,” I acknowledged.
“Could be both,” Walker replied, grin widening.
Dinner flowed easily, conversation bouncing between the four of us.
Walker recounted one of Bob’s infamous locker room pranks, and Harper chimed in with a story about her gym mishaps that had Connor practically crying with laughter.
Each time Harper spoke, Connor’s gaze softened.
Each time Connor cracked a joke, Harper’s smile widened slightly more.
I felt a warm, steady feeling in my chest that I hadn’t expected. This wasn’t just dinner. This wasn’t just a date. This felt like family.
Connor set down his fork and leaned back in his chair, giving Walker a curious look. “Hey, you hear about Lemanski?”
Walker frowned. “What about him?” I didn’t know who Lemanski was, but how Walker stiffened made me think this was a bad thing to discuss. Or a good thing? Who knew?
Connor leaned forward. “Something about a knee operation and the Vipers putting him out for an op?”
Walker blinked. “Seriously? You know more than me then. Are you sure? He just came back from injury.”
Ah, so Lemanski was a New York Vipers player. Why did Walker look so weird right now, glancing at me and trying to smile? Shit. Was this an injury where maybe they’d want to call up Walker to replace him? My chest tightened.
Connor nodded. “The forums are churning hard. D-man down. Does that mean you’ll get called up?”
Fuck. I was right.
Walker laughed, but it sounded short and dry. “There are far better and more level-headed replacements than me to head to the Big Apple.” He reached for my hand under the table and squeezed it. “I’m not going anywhere.”
By the time dessert arrived, the tension in my chest had shifted. Not from nerves or anxiety but from the realization of how easily Walker had slipped into my life. Like he’d always been there… like he belonged.
And that’s what scared me most. Even as he smiled at me and pretended the news about this Lemanski guy hadn’t shocked him, I couldn’t help but wonder… what happens when New York calls him back?