Chapter 13
Jasmine
Olivia's apartment is warm and smells like cinnamon. She made cookies and set them out on the coffee table next to a bottle of red wine and five glasses.
The living room is full of afternoon light. Baby toys have been pushed to one side to make room for five women.
Maya is napping in the back room, which means we have approximately two hours of uninterrupted adult conversation before she wakes up and the volume triples.
Harper is on the floor with her back against the couch, her legs stretched out, scrolling through her phone with one hand and holding her wine with the other.
Natalie is curled up in the armchair with a blanket over her lap. Avery is beside me on the couch, barefoot, her legs tucked underneath her. Olivia is moving between the kitchen and the living room, refilling glasses and pushing cookies on everyone.
“Three wins in a row,” Harper says, looking up from her phone. “Cole says the locker room energy is different since Pittsburgh. Like the guys have a new gear.”
“Theo said the same thing,” Olivia says, settling into the loveseat with her own glass. “He's been coming home from practice buzzing. More than usual.”
“Almost dying will do that to a person,” Natalie says.
The room goes quiet for a second. We all went through it. Twenty minutes of not knowing whether the men we love were alive or dead. Nobody says that out loud, but it's in the room with us.
“Okay, enough heavy,” Avery says. She turns to me and tilts her head. “Jasmine Bennett.”
“Avery Carter.”
Her mouth curves with a smirk. “You’re glowing.”
“I'm not glowing. I moisturize,” I quip, but I can already see where this is going.
“You're glowing, and it has nothing to do with skincare and everything to do with a certain alternate captain. Spill.”
My face gets hot. I take a sip of wine to buy myself a second. Harper is looking at me over the rim of her glass with an amused expression.
“After the plane thing,” I start. “Logan called me from the tarmac in Pittsburgh.”
“We know that part,” Natalie says gently. “You told us.”
“I didn't tell you everything.” I set my glass down on the coffee table. “He said he never stopped loving me and that if the plane had gone down, he would never have forgiven himself for not telling me.”
The room is silent.
“And I told him I loved him too,” I shrug. “I have for ten years, and I was too stubborn and too scared to admit it.”
Avery puts her hand on my arm. “That is so romantic.”
“When he got back to New York, he came straight to my apartment, and we've been together since.”
“Together together?” Olivia asks.
I grin. “Together together,” I say with a laugh.
The last few days have been surreal. Logan has barely left my apartment since he got back from Chicago. We've fallen into a rhythm that feels both brand new and completely familiar.
I go to work in the morning, and when I come home, Logan is there, or on his way, or texting me to ask where I want to eat. We've had dinner together every night this week. Monday was Thai food on my couch. Tuesday, he cooked grilled salmon and roasted vegetables.
The man learned to cook in the last ten years. At least one of us can, seeing as I’m shit in the kitchen.
Last night we walked to a small Italian place near my apartment and talked until they started putting chairs on tables around us.
Avery screams, jerking me from my thoughts. “I knew it! I knew it as soon as I found out you two had history, and I knew it at Gordy's. The eye contact across the bar and the chemistry between you two was out of this world.”
“We all knew it,” Harper says, dabbing at her jeans with a napkin. “Some of us were just polite enough not to scream about it.”
“I'm sorry, but when was politeness ever the appropriate response to love?” Avery says. “This calls for screaming.”
“Keep your voice down,” Olivia says. “Maya is sleeping.”
Natalie smiles at me from the armchair. “It took the plane scare?”
“It took the plane scare.”
“Same thing happened with Ethan and me after his injury,” she says. “Sometimes you need the world to shake you before you stop overthinking and just feel what you feel.”
Olivia nods. “When the news broke about the plane, all I could think about was the things I hadn’t told Theo.”
“Cole called me, and I couldn't speak for five minutes,” Harper says. “He just stayed on the line and waited.”
“Liam texted me a selfie from the plane after they landed,” Avery says. “He was grinning. I wanted to murder him and kiss him at the same time.”
We sit with it for a minute. Five women who know what it's like to love men who get on planes and ice rinks and put their bodies in harm's way for a living.
“To our men,” Olivia says, raising her glass. “And to Jasmine and Logan. Happy ever after.”
We raise our glasses. I bring mine to my lips and then stop. “Not quite happy ever after.”
Harper puts her glass down. “Cat.”
Natalie looks between us. “Who's Cat?”
“Logan's mother,” I say. “Catherine Shaw. She's the reason Logan and I broke up the first time.”
I tell them. Not the short version I gave them at the hockey game weeks ago about life taking us in different directions. The real version. How Cat sat me down when I was eighteen and told me that hockey families aren't easy, and it takes a certain kind of woman to deal with them.
How she made it clear that I was not that woman. How Logan's father told him that relationships were distractions and the next five years of his life belonged to hockey.
The room is quiet when I finish. Avery's hand settles on my arm with a sympathetic squeeze. Natalie's eyes are so wide they look like they’ll pop out. She’s probably comparing that to Ethan’s family, who are loud, loving, and just awesome. She’s so lucky.
Olivia has set her wine down. “That woman said that to you when you were eighteen years old?”
“Yep,” I say.
“I would have slapped her,” Avery says.
“My mother wanted to,” I say with a laugh.
“Does Cat know you and Logan are back together?” Natalie asks.
“No. Nobody knows except you four and Blake. We're keeping it quiet for now.”
“Smart,” Harper says. “Get solid before the storm hits.”
“That's what I said. Logan wanted to tell everyone, but I convinced him to wait for a little while.”
“What happens when she finds out?” Natalie asks. “Do you think she's changed?”
“I don't know.”
“Women like that don't change,” Avery says. “They just get better at hiding it.”
“That's not necessarily true,” Natalie says. “People can surprise you.”
Olivia leans forward. “Here's what I think. You can't control Cat Shaw. You can't make her like you, and you can't make her accept you. What you can control is how you show up. Be polite and gracious. Kill her with class. And make sure Logan sees it when she's not.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that women like Cat are careful. She won't say anything terrible in front of Logan because she's too smart for that. She'll do it when you're alone or when he's not paying attention. So make sure you're never alone with her and make sure he's always paying attention.”
Harper nods. “And remember that this isn't about Cat. This is about you and Logan. Don't let his mother become the third person in your relationship.”
“My mother is already the third person in my relationship,” I say. “When she finds out it's going to be a whole thing.”
“One mother at a time,” Avery says, and raises her glass again. “To surviving moms.”
“To surviving moms.”
We drink.
Madison Square Garden is packed for a Friday night matchup against the Boston Commanders. The family section is buzzing. Harper, Avery, Natalie, Olivia and I are in our usual seats near the tunnel.
George and Cat Shaw are several rows behind us. I don't turn around, but I know they're there.
The puck drops, and the energy is immediate. The Commanders are physical from the first shift, finishing every check, getting under the Renegades' skin. Boston's top line is relentless, and their forecheck keeps the puck pinned in the Renegades' zone for long stretches of the first period.
Logan is matched up against their best forward, a big winger who outweighs him by twenty pounds. They battle along the boards all period, pushing, shoving, talking in each other's ears. Logan doesn't back down. He never backs down.
Cole opens the scoring midway through the second with a power play goal. The crowd roars.
Boston ties it up three minutes later on a breakaway that the Renegades goalie has no chance on. The building goes quiet. Then Boston takes a run at Liam behind the play, a late hit that sends him into the boards. Avery is on her feet before the whistle even blows.
Ethan drops his gloves.
He's across the ice in three strides, grabbing the Boston player by the jersey and throwing a right hand that connects with his helmet. The crowd erupts. Both players are swinging, helmets flying, jerseys pulled over heads.
The linesmen let it go for a few seconds before jumping in and pulling them apart. Ethan skates to the penalty box with blood on his knuckles and a split lip, and the MSG crowd is on its feet, giving him a standing ovation.
“How do you watch that?” I ask Natalie.
“I close my eyes,” she says.
We all laugh.
The fight sparks something in the Renegades. Liam scores on the power play that follows — a wrister from the top of the circle that beats the Boston goalie clean. The building shakes. Avery is screaming beside me.
Third period, the Renegades lock it down. Blake and Logan kill off a late penalty together, blocking shots and clearing the puck with the kind of chemistry that only comes from years of playing together. Jake adds an empty-net goal with thirty seconds left. Final score 4-2 Renegades.
Four wins in a row.
After the game, the families spill into the concourse area near the locker room.
It's a wide, carpeted hallway with framed Renegades photos on the walls and a refreshment table set up for families and VIPs.
Players trickle out as they finish their postgame routines, hair wet, suits on, bags over their shoulders.
I'm standing with Harper and Avery near the refreshment table, talking about dinner plans, when I hear her voice.
“Jasmine Bennett.”
I turn. Cat Shaw is walking toward me with her coat over her arm and her handbag in the crook of her elbow. Her hair is blown out, and her makeup is flawless. She's smiling, but it doesn't reach her eyes.
“Cat. How are you?”
“Wonderful. What a game.” She looks me over, head to toe, a quick scan that she disguises as warmth. “You look lovely. That blazer is gorgeous. Very professional.”
“Thank you.”
“I keep seeing you at the games. George and I were just saying how nice it is that you're at so many of them now. Working for the team must keep you busy.”
“I work for the firm that handles the Renegades' sponsorship contracts. So yes, I attend when the account requires it.”
She adjusts her handbag on her arm. “It must be so interesting for you, being around professional sports. Such a different world from law, isn't it? All that testosterone and competition.”
The words are sweet, and so is the tone. The knife underneath them is sharp and precise, and aimed at the same spot it hit ten years ago.
I hold my smile. “I'm enjoying it. The Renegades are a great organization.”
“They are. George and I are so proud of Logan and Nolan. The boys have worked so hard. George has been guiding them since they were little. It really is a family commitment, you know. The whole family has to be all in.”
She tilts her head. “But I'm sure you have your own commitments. Your career must be very demanding. Partners at law firms work such terrible hours, don't they? I don't know how you young women manage it all.”
“We manage just fine, Cat.”
“I'm sure you do.” She pats my arm. “It's so good to see you, Jasmine. We should catch up properly sometime.”
“I'd like that.”
She smiles again, that polished, pleasant, surface-level smile, and turns to greet another family standing nearby. I stand there with my own smile locked in place and my nails digging into my palm.
Harper appears at my elbow. “You okay?”
“Fine.”
Avery flanks my other side. “We saw her coming and tried to get here faster. What did she say?”
“Nothing specific. Just the usual Cat Shaw special. Compliments that aren't compliments and reminders that I don't belong in her world.”
“She's wrong,” Harper says. “You know that.”
“I know that.”
Natalie joins us, and the four of them form a wall around me and steer me toward the other end of the concourse, away from Cat, away from the family section, toward the exit. Olivia has Maya on her hip and is already saying her goodbyes to Theo.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Logan: I saw my mom talking to you. How did that go?
I look across the concourse. He's standing near the locker room exit with a group of sponsors, still in his suit, his hair damp. He's looking at me over the top of their heads.
I type back: It went great.
No point in telling him that his mother is a total bitch.