Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
KATE
Idon’t make impulsive decisions.
That’s something I’ve always known about myself. Even before Hudson was born, before marriage and everything that came after it, I was the kind of person who thought things through. Weighed them up and turned them over until every angle had been considered and every possible outcome accounted for.
Life doesn’t really allow for anything else when you’re responsible for someone else.
And yet, standing at the edge of the rink on a quiet weekday afternoon, watching Lukas skate slow laps during what looks like a lighter training session, I’m very aware that somewhere along the line, I stopped overthinking quite so much.
Or maybe not stopped. Maybe I just chose this anyway.
Hudson stands beside me, arms folded over the barrier, his eyes locked on the ice with an intensity I recognise immediately. It’s the same look he gets when he’s watching match highlights at home, like he’s trying to break everything down and understand it piece by piece.
He hasn’t said much since we got here. Which, for Hudson, usually means he’s thinking.
“You alright?” I ask quietly, glancing at him.
He shrugs, not looking away from the ice. “Yeah.”
That’s not a real answer, but I don’t push.
I’ve learned when to give him space and when to step in, and this feels like a moment that belongs to him.
Because this is new. Not just Lukas but all of it.
Me bringing him here. Letting him see this part of my life that didn’t exist a few weeks ago.
Letting someone else step into ours, even slightly.
Truthfully, I’m still trying to figure out what this is.
We’ve had two dates, one of which went way further than it should have, for a responsible woman like me.
I tighten my grip on the railing, trying to stop the spiralling thoughts from becoming too intrusive. I want Hudson to see this for what it is.
“You don’t have to stay long,” I add, keeping my tone light. “We can go whenever you want.”
Hudson glances at me. “I’m fine, Mum.”
There’s a flicker of softness in his expression, so I nod once. “Okay.”
On the ice, Lukas slows as the drill ends, gliding toward the boards with that easy control that still catches me off guard every time I see it.
There’s something about the way he moves that’s confident without being showy, precise without looking like he’s trying too hard. It’s distracting to say the least.
I exhale slowly, dragging my focus back to Hudson. This is about him. Not the way my stomach flips when Lukas pushes his helmet back, looks up and spots us in the stands.
There’s no hesitation or confusion, only immediate recognition. And then that smile. It’s not the one he gives everyone else. I’ve seen those now, they’re quick, easy, and above all, polite. This one is different, it’s slower and warmer. It lands properly before it shows.
My breath catches, which is ridiculous, because I am a grown woman and I should not still be reacting like this to a hot-shot hockey player with a killer smile, and enough charm for the whole team.
Hudson watches as Lukas taps his stick lightly against the ice, saying something to one of his teammates before skating toward the bench.
“He’s good,” Hudson says as he watches him skate.
I glance at him, surprised. “Yeah?”
He shrugs, but there’s that same quiet focus in his eyes. “Yeah. He reads the play well.”
I smile slightly. “You’ve been doing your research.” He doesn’t deny it this time.
And for some reason, that matters more than if he had.
Lukas steps off the ice a moment later, pulling his helmet off as he moves toward us. His hair is damp with sweat, his undershirt clinging slightly to his back, and there’s something very real about seeing him mid-training, not polished or composed, just being himself.
“Hey,” he says, his accent curling softly around the word as he reaches us.
His gaze flicks to me first, just for a second, something unspoken passing between us before he shifts his attention naturally to Hudson.
“Hudson, right? We met at the meet and greet a few weeks ago.”
Hudson nods once, straightening. “Yeah.”
“I’m Lukas.”
“I know.”
There’s a brief pause. Not awkward, but it feels careful and measured. Lukas doesn’t rush to fill it. He leans lightly against the barrier instead, resting his forearms on it like he’s got all the time in the world.
“You play sports?” he asks.
Hudson shrugs. “A bit.” I can see the spark behind his eyes. He’s weighing up the situation and doesn’t quite know how to react yet.
“What position?”
“Midfield. Football.”
Lukas nods, as though that makes perfect sense. “Good. You need vision for that.”
Hudson’s eyes flick to him. “Yeah.”
I watch the exchange carefully, my chest tight in a way I don’t entirely understand.
Lukas isn’t trying to impress him. He’s not overdoing it, forcing conversation, or putting on a performance.
He’s just talking to him, as he would to anyone else.
And Hudson notices that. I can see it in the slight relaxation of his shoulders.
“They make you run a lot?” Lukas asks.
Hudson laughs a little. “Yeah.”
“Same here,” Lukas says easily, gesturing back toward the ice. “Coach thinks we are all lazy.”
Hudson smirks before he asks, “Are you?”
Lukas tilts his head, considering that. “Sometimes.” That earns him a hint of a smile, and the tension in my body loosens.
They fall into an easy rhythm after that. Nothing intense or forced. Just small talk about training, matches, the difference between hockey and football, it’s the kind of casual conversation that builds without you noticing.
I stay quiet, letting it happen, letting Hudson lead. Lukas meets him where he is instead of trying to pull him somewhere else.
At one point, Hudson leans slightly closer to the barrier, watching as a few of the other players start another drill behind Lukas.
“Do you get nervous before games?” he asks.
Lukas glances back at the ice, then shrugs. “A little. It keeps you sharp.”
Hudson nods, like he’s filing that away. “I get nervous before matches,” he admits.
“That’s normal, it’s good,” Lukas says. “If you stop feeling it, it means you don’t care anymore.”
Hudson considers that for a second before he nods again. I watch them both, something quiet and unexpected settling within me. Because this is what I was afraid of. But exactly what I’d hoped for.
Lukas doesn’t stay long. A coach calls something out from across the rink, and he pushes off the barrier with an easy movement.
“I have to go before they think I’m hiding,” he says, glancing between us.
Hudson nods. “Okay.”
Lukas looks at me then, properly this time, it’s fleeting, but it’s enough. “Thanks for coming,” he says quietly.
I nod, my voice steadier than I feel. “Thanks for inviting us.”
There’s that small smile again, the one that feels like it belongs to me. Then he’s gone, back on the ice, slipping seamlessly into the drill like he was never standing here at all.
Hudson watches him for a few seconds longer before leaning back. “He’s alright,” he says.
It’s so understated, so typically Hudson, that I almost laugh. “High praise.”
He shrugs. “He didn’t try too hard.”
I glance at him, joy settling in me. “No,” I agree. “He didn’t.”
Hudson shifts his weight, looking back at the ice. “You like him,” he says after a moment. It’s not a question.
I inhale slowly, considering my answer carefully. “Yes,” I say finally. “I do like him.”
Hudson nods as though that’s enough. He doesn’t push or question me further, but that protective instinct is there again. I see it, I feel it. Somehow, it feels a little less now, though.
We stay a little longer to watch the rest of the training before heading out. The air outside is cooler and quieter, and I feel lighter than I have in days because something shifted today. Not dramatically or in some big, obvious way, but enough to matter.
As we walk to the car, Hudson bumps his shoulder lightly against mine.
“You’re not weird today,” he says with a smirk.
I laugh at that. “Thanks.”
“Just normal weird.”
“Even better.”
He smiles, climbing into the passenger seat. And for the first time since all of this started, I don’t feel like I’m standing on the edge of something uncertain. I feel like I’m stepping into it carefully and willingly.