Chapter 29
Luna
What the fuck is happening here? I’m literally on his lap, head against his chest, and his arms are wrapped around me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Whatever this is, it feels good, safe, like I can breathe, like everything in me exhales. For once, I don’t overthink it. Not what we’re doing, what this means or what comes next. Instead, I let myself lean into him. His arms tighten around me slightly, like he felt that shift, too.
He hasn’t said much, but I can tell something is weighing him down.
“How did it feel, winning tonight?”
Zayden doesn’t answer right away. His hand stills on my back, then slides down to rest at my waist.
“Felt good,” he says eventually, but his voice sounds like it’s coming from somewhere far away.
I lift my head just enough to see him. “Just good?”
“I love hockey,” he admits. “The team. The rush. All of it. But… sometimes, after games like tonight…” He trails off, eyes distant. “I miss skating. No pressure or noise—just…moving on the ice for no one but myself. The quiet of it.”
My heart squeezes.
“I sneak out to the Shadow Rink sometimes, or I come to the cabin. It’s the only place I feel like I can breathe.
No yelling. No one’s watching. Just the sound of my blades and the cold.
” He’s staring at the fire like it holds all the answers.
“Especially after fights with my dad. Or before games I know I can’t afford to screw up. ”
I know exactly what he means.
“I get it,” I say softly. “That feeling. The second the blades touch the ice and it’s just…you. Your body. The music. Like everything else disappears and you finally have space to feel like you again.”
He nods, his brow furrowed like he’s trying not to let his emotion show too much. “The first time I saw you skate…you reminded me of me. Back before it all got so damn loud. And honestly? I was a little jealous.”
“You’re allowed to love both, you know,” I whisper. “You don’t have to choose.”
He chuckles. “Tell that to my dad.”
“You don’t owe him, or anyone, anything. This is your life, Zayden.”
Something soft and tired shifts in his eyes, and I see it. The boy behind the silence and the broody stares. Instead of replying, he leans forward and presses a soft kiss to my forehead. The kind that makes my chest ache in a way I can’t explain.
“Come on,” he murmurs, standing with me in his arms. “Let’s get you to bed.”
I wrinkle my nose, trying to lighten the mood. “I can walk, you know.”
“I know. But I like taking care of you.”
I stare up at him as he carries me down the short hallway.
“Is that your love language or something?” I tease.
A rare smile tugs at his mouth, the kind I don’t think he gives to just anyone. “Maybe.”
He pushes the door open with his shoulder and gently lays me down on the bed, tucking me in.
“Good night,” he whispers, stepping back like he’s about to leave.
But I catch his hand without thinking. “Stay?”
He gives me a small nod. “I usually sleep in shorts and no shirt. That okay?”
“Mhm.”
My heart thuds a little faster as he turns toward the dresser and pulls his shirt over his head.
His back flexes as he tosses the shirt aside.
I didn’t realize he had so many tattoos.
I’ve seen glimpses along his forearms when he pushes up his sleeves.
But this is different and he has more than I expected.
Then he reaches for the waist of his sweatpants and pushes them down. His legs are long and toned with thick muscles. His shorts sit low on his hips. God, he’s beautiful. I don’t think I’m breathing properly right now.
He turns and catches me staring, and gives me that soft, crooked almost-smile that’s been wrecking me all night.
Zayden climbs into the bed next to me, the mattress dipping beneath his weight, leaving space between us. Just far enough to let me decide how close I want him.
I crawl into him like it’s instinct, pressing my cheek against the warm skin over his heart.
He wraps his arms around my waist like we’ve done this a thousand times before.
No matter how much I try to convince myself I hate him, there’s something about him that feels like home. And right now, that feeling multiplies.
That aching, hollow part of me settles a little. It’s been so long since I felt like this. Not since Rylee left when I was eight. Even after I moved with her to Paris when I was fifteen, things were different.
I was older then and didn’t need her how I used to. She had her job, a new life, and later, the twins. But I’ve been quietly craving this feeling.
“This feels nice,” I whisper.
“Yeah, it does.” His arm tightens slightly around me. “Want me to sing you a lullaby?”
“What?” I glance up at him.
“You, uh…” He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand, suddenly shy. “Last night. You were talking in your sleep. You asked for one.”
My heart stumbles. “I did?”
He nods. “You said something about your sister. And how you didn’t want her to leave.”
“Oh God,” I groan, burying my face in his hard chest. “Please tell me that’s all I said.”
Zayden’s chest rumbles and he’s laughing. “Well…now that you mention it.”
I tilt my head at him suspiciously.
“You also confessed your undying love for me. Said I was the hottest hockey player alive and couldn’t live without me.”
“Zayden.” I shove at his chest, heat rushing to my cheeks. “You’re such a liar. I didn’t say that.”
“You’ll never know for sure.”
I roll my eyes at him. “You made that up.”
“Did I?” He grins.
What is happening here?
Who is this Zayden?
“My sister used to sing to me when I was little. On the phone, after she moved away. It made me feel like…I wasn’t completely alone.”
“The offer’s still open. I’m not the best singer, but I’ll sing for you.”
I smile faintly into his chest. “No song tonight.”
This is enough!