Chapter 49
forty-nine
WREN
A Year Later
I stand in Ryan’s kitchen, barefoot on the cold hardwood, sipping coffee that’s too strong and scrolling through my phone. The morning light softens everything, even my hair, which looks better than it has any right to in the microwave’s reflection.
This house feels like home now. It stopped feeling like Ryan’s place and started feeling like ours somewhere around the second month after I moved in.
When I reorganized his spice cabinet and he didn’t complain.
When he bought my favorite tea without me asking.
When we had our first real fight about whose turn it was to do laundry and made up by having sex against the washing machine.
I pour a second mug full of coffee and carry it upstairs to the bedroom. Ryan has already been up to work out, although he doesn’t have to anymore since he officially quit playing hockey a couple of months ago. The light is on in the en suite and steam escapes from the crack under the door.
Setting his coffee cup on his bedside table, I sit on the bed and bide my time. Eventually, Ryan comes out of the bathroom with a towel slung around his hips, drying his hair with another towel.
I look at him, not even trying to disguise the fact that I’m checking him out. He’s a marvel. Tan skin. Tall, muscular, and ripped. Abs like a fucking cheese grater.
How did I ever end up so lucky?
His sense of humor and personality are just bonuses on this mountain of a man.
Ryan groans and stretches in a way that makes my stomach flip even after a year. His chest hair is still damp from his shower. “You like what you see?”
I take in the sight of him. Hair sticking up in every direction, stubble covering his jaw, his smile still sleepy around the edges. He looks exactly like what he is. A man who’s completely, ridiculously in love.
“You know I do, you deeply weird man.”
He grabs a pillow and tosses it at my head. I duck, laughing. Coffee sloshes over the edge of my mug.
“Ryan! You made me spill.”
“Come here and I’ll make it up to you.”
I set my coffee on the dresser and crawl onto the bed beside him, immediately sinking into the warmth he radiates. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me against his side. I fit there perfectly. Like I was made for this exact spot.
“We really did it, huh?” I murmur against his chest.
“Yeah. We did.”
His voice is rough. I feel it rumble through his ribcage. We fall into comfortable silence. I listen to his heartbeat steady and strong under my ear. The weight of the world outside this room doesn’t matter nearly as much as the fact that we’re here. Together. For real.
The show made us celebrities for a while.
Ryan already was one, but now I am too, in a weird way.
People recognize me at the grocery store.
My Instagram followers went from two hundred to two hundred thousand overnight.
The network offered me three different shows to executive produce after seeing how the finale played out.
The hockey season ended two months ago. They made it to the conference finals before getting knocked out, which was further than anyone expected.
Ryan played some of the best hockey of his career.
I got to watch most of it from the stands, wearing his jersey and feeling ridiculously proud every time the announcers mentioned his name.
“What are you thinking about?” Ryan asks, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back through my tank top.
“Everything. Work, hockey, the fact that people are writing conspiracy theories about us on Reddit.”
“What kind of conspiracy theories?”
“That the whole thing was scripted. That the producers planned your finale meltdown from the beginning. That we’re just really good actors who are committed to the bit.”
Ryan’s laugh is rough and low, sending a shiver up my spine. “If I was acting, I’d have an Oscar.”
“You were pretty dramatic.”
“I was in love. There’s a difference.”
“Are you still? In love, I mean.”
He shifts so he can look down at me. His expression is so tender it makes my chest ache. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re stuck with me.”
“Good. Because I already bought groceries for two for the rest of the week.”
I hit his chest playfully. “Romantic as always.”
“I have my moments.”
He does. Last week he surprised me with takeout from my favorite Thai place because I’d had a rough day at work.
The week before that, he drove an hour out of his way to get me a specific kind of donut that I mentioned liking once.
Small things that show he pays attention, that he cares about the details that make me happy.
“Do you ever miss it?” I ask. “The show, I mean. The drama and the cameras and everyone watching your every move.”
“Hell no. Do you?”
I consider this. “I miss some of the people. Jennifer still texts me pictures of whatever outrageous outfit she’s putting together. Hana and I have lunch once a month. Even some of the other women and I keep in touch.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“No, I don’t miss it. I liked parts of it, but I’m glad it’s over. I’m glad we get to be normal now.”
“Is this normal?” He gestures around the room, at us tangled up in bed.
“This is better than normal.”
“Yeah. It is.”
My phone buzzes on the dresser. I ignore it. It’s probably another interview request or someone wanting to know if we’re planning a TV wedding or some other ridiculous question about our relationship.
“Ellie called me yesterday,” Ryan says.
“Oh yeah? How’s the wedding planning going?”
“She’s stress-eating cake samples and making Jake try on seventeen different tuxedos.”
“Sounds about right.”
“She wants you to be in the wedding.”
I lift my head to look at him. “Really?”
“Really. She said you’re basically her sister now anyway, so you might as well make it official.”
The thought makes me unexpectedly emotional. I’ve never had a sister. Ellie has become one of my favorite people in the world. She’s funny and smart and completely unimpressed by Ryan’s fame, which I find endlessly entertaining.
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her to ask you herself, but that I thought you’d probably say yes.”
“I would. I will. I love weddings.”
“Good. Because we’ll probably have our own to plan eventually.”
The casual way he says it makes my heart skip. We’ve talked about the future in vague terms, but never anything this concrete. Never anything that sounds like a promise.
“Eventually?”
“Well, yeah. Unless you’re planning to get bored with me and move on to the next hockey player who catches your eye.”
“There are other hockey players?”
“Funny.”
I settle back against his chest, my cheek finding the spot where his chest hair tickles. “I’m not going anywhere, Ryan.”
“Good. Because I love you. And not just because the cameras are rolling.”
“I love you, too.”
It’s the easiest thing in the world to say now. Easier than breathing. For months after the show, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For him to realize that real life with me was boring compared to the heightened drama of television. For the honeymoon period to end and reality to set in.
But it never happened. Real life with Ryan is better than anything the show could have manufactured. It’s grocery shopping and Netflix marathons and him bringing me coffee in bed when I’m too lazy to get up. It’s trash day arguments and ten-minute make ups. It’s something solid. Something real.
“I have something to tell you,” Ryan says. There’s something in his tone that makes me nervous.
“Good something or bad something?”
“Good something. I think.”
I prop myself up on my elbow to look at him. “Okay. What is it?”
“Coach T called yesterday. He wants to talk to me about coaching.”
“Coaching what?”
“Ice hockey. Apparently there is a coach retiring for the Seattle Havoc. I’d have to work my way up. Assistant coach at first, maybe head coach eventually if I want it.”
“Ryan, that’s amazing.” Her wide smile is radiant.
“Is it? I mean, I don’t know anything about coaching.”
“You know everything about hockey. You’re good with people when you’re not being a grumpy asshole.”
“Thanks for that ringing endorsement. And that kind of behavior was saved especially for you.”
She rolls her eyes and dodges that topic.
“I’m serious. You’d be a great coach. You understand the game. You know how to motivate people. Plus, you’ve been through everything these guys are going through. You could help them.”
I shrug my shoulders. “It would mean moving to Seattle long-term.”
“And?”
“And I wanted to make sure you’re okay with that. I know your show films here, but after that, you might get offers from other places. I don’t want to hold you back.”
I stare at him. “Ryan Haart, are you asking me if I want to build a life with you in Seattle?”
“Maybe.”
“The answer is yes, you idiot.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’ve only been to Seattle once, but I loved it. I love the rain and the mountains and the coffee culture and the fact that people wear flannel unironically. And I love you. I want to go wherever you go. So yes, I want to be a hockey girlfriend and build something with you.”
He grins and pulls me down for a kiss. “Good. Because I already told Coach T that I was interested.”
“You were that sure I’d say yes?”
“I was hopeful.”
“Just hopeful?”
“Okay, I was pretty sure. You’re crazy about me.”
“I am crazy about you.”
“I know.”
“So what happens now?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we did the hard part. We fell in love, we survived reality television, we figured out how to be together in the real world. What’s next?”
Ryan is quiet for a moment, thinking. “I don’t know. More of this, I guess. Wake up together, go to work, and come home to each other. Fight about stupid things and make up. Build something that lasts.”
“That sounds pretty good.”
“It does, doesn’t it?”
“Boring, but good.”
“Boring is underrated.”
“Says the man who proposed on live television.”
“I didn’t propose on live television. I declared my love on live television. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?”
“When I propose, it’ll be private. Just us. No cameras, no audience, no producers trying to manipulate the moment.”
“ When you propose?”
“You heard me.”
“Ryan,” I admonish.
“What?”
“You just said when .”
“Did I?”
“You did.”
He’s quiet for a moment. I can feel his heart beating faster under my palm.
“Hypothetically,” he says finally, “if I were to propose, how do you think you’d respond?”
“Hypothetically?”
“Hypothetically.”
I pretend to consider this. “I think I’d probably say yes.”
“Probably?”
“Definitely. I’d definitely say yes.”
“Good to know.”
“For hypothetical future reference.”
“Exactly.”
We fall back into silence, but it’s charged now. Expectant. Like we’ve just crossed some invisible line we can’t uncross.
My phone buzzes again. This time, Ryan reaches over to grab it.
“It’s Jay,” he says, handing it to me.
I swipe to answer. “Hey, big brother.”
“Hey, little sister.”
“Hey, you.”
There’s a pause before Jay speaks, like the words are hard to say out loud. “I’m proud of you, Wren.”
My throat tightens, and my vision blurs for a second. “For what?”
“For going after what you wanted. For not letting anyone tell you it was too risky or too crazy or too much. You always used to hide behind me. Not anymore.”
“Thanks, Jay.”
“I love you, kid.”
“I love you, too.”
“And tell Ryan I said congratulations on the coaching thing. He’ll be good at it.”
“How did you know about that?”
“Coach T called me, too. Wanted to know if you’d agree to let Ryan go to Seattle.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“I told him you love Ryan and practically worship the very ground he walks on. So yes, I think you would say yes in a heartbeat.”
“Well, he just asked. And I agreed.”
I can hear Jay smiling through the phone line. “I bet.”
After I hang up, Ryan looks at me with raised eyebrows. “He gave me a reference?”
“Apparently.”
“Huh. Maybe he doesn’t hate me after all.”
“He never hated you. He was just protecting me.”
“And now?”
“Now he knows I don’t need protecting. I need supporting. There’s a difference.”
“Smart man.”
“He has his moments.”
Ryan pulls me closer. I curl into him, breathing in the scent of his skin and the faint smell of his soap. This is what home smells like now. This is what safety feels like.
“Wren?”
“Mmm?”
“I’m really glad you came on that stupid show.”
“Even though it was a disaster?”
“Especially because it was a disaster. The best things in my life have come from disasters.”
“Like what?”
“Like you. Like this. Like figuring out that sometimes the thing you think will ruin you is actually the thing that saves you.”
I lift my head to look at him. His expression is so open and honest it takes my breath away.
“You saved me, too,” I tell him.
“From what?”
“From thinking I wasn’t worth choosing. From believing I had to stay small to be loved. From settling for less than everything.”
“You were always worth choosing, Wren. You just needed someone to see it.”
“And you saw it.”
“From the first day. Even when you were hiding behind that clipboard like it was armor.”
“I wasn’t hiding.”
“You were totally hiding.”
“Okay, maybe I was hiding a little.”
“A little?”
“Fine. I was hiding a lot. But I’m not hiding anymore.”
“No. You’re not.”
He’s right. I’m not hiding anymore. I’m not the girl who stands in the background waiting for someone to notice her. I’m the girl who speaks up in meetings and pitches crazy ideas and isn’t afraid to take up space.
I’m the girl who fell in love with a hockey player on national television and didn’t care what anyone thought about it.
I’m the girl who’s running her own show and building her own life and choosing her own future.
“So,” I say, settling back against his chest. “What do we do now?”
Ryan grins and pulls me closer, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Anything we want.”
And for the first time in my life, I believe that’s actually true.
I didn’t win the show. But I won the life I wanted.