Chapter 67
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
DYLAN
I’ve been sitting in the fucking equipment cage for forty-five minutes pretending to help Murphy sort gloves. He’s got no reason to be down here either, other than the fact he knows I’m one wrong look away from throwing a punch through a locker door. Again.
“Want me to go stand guard upstairs?” he asks. “Send a coded knock if they try and push her out the fire escape?”
I grunt. “You’re not helping.”
“You sure?” Murphy says. “Could knock on the boardroom door and scream, ‘Leave Britney alone.’ Might lighten the mood.”
I shoot him a look, and he shrugs.
It’s too quiet in the building. That fake kind of quiet that means something big is happening in a room you’re not allowed into.
The rest of the guys are out on the ice for a light session, and Coach Bentley’s giving me space, which I both appreciate and resent.
I hate not knowing. I hate that she’s facing it without me.
Murphy leans against the wall and checks his phone. “You’re not gonna survive the wait. Want me to distract you with photos of Jacko’s dog in a tutu?”
“Stop talking.” His grin widens, but before he can say anything else, the side door creaks open. I don’t move right away. I hear footsteps first. Then voices. One calm and professional; Ben. The other Mia.
I’m already walking toward the corridor before my brain catches up. She turns the corner and stops dead. Her shoulders are set, and her eyes look like they’ve seen war. She looks exhausted and bright all at once.
Ben’s beside her, arm slung casually across her back. But the second her eyes meet mine, she steps away from him and comes straight to me. And I don’t hesitate to open my arms wide for her.
I pull her in so fast she gasps, arms coming around my waist, face pressed to my chest. I don’t care who sees. Don’t care that we’re in the hallway or that I’m still in workout gear. She’s here. She’s safe. And she’s mine.
“You okay?” I murmur against her hair.
She nods. “We won.”
I pull back just enough to see her face. “You serious?”
“They backed down. No disciplinary action. They want us to approve a statement, Ben’s vetting it.”
Ben, now standing a discreet few feet back, gives me a dry look. “Nice to see you again, Dylan.”
I reach a hand out, and we shake. “Thank you,” I say, low and honest. “For fighting for her.”
“I was fighting for both of you,” he says. “Though, full disclosure, I was ready to eat the board alive even if you turned out to be a complete tosser.”
“Charming,” I mutter.
Mia lets out a breath that sounds more like a laugh, the first real one I’ve heard from her in days. I tighten my arm around her waist, grounding both of us.
Ben slides his phone into his jacket pocket. “They’ll send over the draft statement in a few hours. I’ll let you two read it over, but I’ll handle anything dodgy. You’re legally in the clear.”
I nod. “What now?”
He glances at Mia. “She’s got some decisions to make about what happens next. Whether she wants to stay on here or look for something new. But that’s up to her.”
Mia leans into me. “I don’t want to make any decisions today.”
“You don’t have to,” I say. “Not now.”
Ben gives her shoulder a squeeze. “I’m going to head out. I’ve done my job.”
“More than,” I say.
He raises an eyebrow. “Just don’t screw it up.”
“I’m trying not to.”
He nods once. Then turns and walks down the corridor, leaving me and Mia and the faint hum of the vending machine in the next hallway. “I’m so bloody proud of you,” I whisper.
She looks up at me, eyes glassy. “I was terrified.”
“You didn’t look it.”
“I was holding onto every second of calm I had left. Most of it was pretending you were in the room.”
My throat tightens. “I hated not being there,” I say. “I wanted to kick the door in.”
“You would’ve ruined everything.”
“I know.” I rest my forehead against hers. “Still wanted to.”
She lets out a soft breath. “Can we leave now?”
“Yeah. Your car still out front or will Ben have taken it?”
“Ben has the keys for the car and my flat,” she says. “But I meant for us to leave together. I want to go back to yours. I just want a moment where no one’s judging us. Where we don’t have to talk about contracts or clauses or bloody statements.”
My heart softens. “Let’s get the hell out of here, then.”
Back at mine, the silence is different. There’s no tension or sharp edges to it. Just her feet tucked under my thigh as we sit on the couch, takeout spread between us, and a rerun of some mindless show playing low on the TV.
She hasn’t let go of my hand and I love it. “I feel like I could sleep for ten years,” she mumbles, tearing a piece of naan bread in half.
“You deserve it.”
She glances at me, with brows raised. “So do you.”
I shake my head. “You took the bigger hit.”
“Not sure about that,” she says softly. “They came after us both. You just handled it in your own way.”
“Yeah. Punched some walls. Got benched by Jonno. Shouted at a vending machine.”
She laughs, then sobers. “We’re okay, right?”
I set my food down. Then take her face gently in my hands. “We’re more than okay,” I say. “We got through something massive. And I know it’s not over, not completely. But I’d fight this whole thing all over again if it meant keeping you.”
Her eyes fill, but she nods. “I don’t know what I’m going to do next,” she admits. “Part of me wants to stay. Part of me wants to walk away on my own terms, just to remind them I had that power all along.”
“I’ll back you either way,” I say. “No pressure. No expectations. You get to choose.”
She leans forward and kisses me, soft and slow and full of everything we’ve both been carrying.
When we pull apart, I rest my hand on her knee. “I missed you.”
“I was only gone a couple of days.”
“Still missed you.”
She smiles. “I think I started missing you before I even left.”
I don’t know what will happen next. Whether she stays or walks. Whether the club puts out a perfect statement or some watered-down half-apology. I don’t know what the fans will say tomorrow or what headlines will run next week.
But I know we’ll be together, and right now, her head is on my shoulder, and her hand is warm in mine. And for the first time in what feels like forever it’s quiet and it’s good.