Chapter 35 The Happiness Effect
THE HAPPINESS EFFECT
CORBIN
It’s funny how at the beginning of the season something felt slightly off on the ice. Like we’d lose a few more face-offs than normal. Like we’d be a millimeter late skating past the neutral zone.
Tonight, my blades are a step ahead. I slice through the ice, a spray shooting off them as I curve around the back of the net, evading a Sea Dogs defender—none other than my friend Tyler Falcon. Tonight, he’s my enemy.
And man, it feels extra satisfying to fly past him and around to the front of the net where Lake’s signaling he’s open.
I slip the puck to our winger and he’s ruthless, gunning right for the spot between the goalie’s legs. But the goalie drops down to his knees and blocks it, sending it back to the ice with a flick of his wrist.
No big deal. We’ll get another chance.
Tyler reaches for the rebound, jamming his stick into the middle of the action.
But nope. I’m feeling possessive tonight. That’s mine. That’s my chance. I want it now.
I strip it away from him since…fuck pickleball losses. This is the game that matters.
Ivan cuts off Tyler, slipping me the puck with ease. I spin around, scan the ice. The net’s in my sight. Their goalie, Max Lambert, is a formidable beast though, shifting back and forth, guarding his property.
Now’s not the time to mess up a chance. But Riggs is open so I feed him the puck, staying close.
When he skates to his right, Max darts a couple inches to his left, protecting the side of the net where Riggs is aiming.
Riggs doesn’t shoot though. A millisecond later he passes the puck to me.
Ivan’s looming nearby, menacing. I take my chance, sending that baby soaring past the posts.
The puck lodges in the twine. The horn blares, and a goal pops up on the scoreboard.
Yes!
I clap Riggs on the back, then Ivan.
“That’s the way we do it,” Riggs shouts, buoyant.
“Let’s get some more,” Ivan seconds.
Lake races over. “You’re on fire tonight,” he says.
My gaze swings to center ice where Mabel’s up on her feet, cheering, right next to her brother.
My heart sprints, but then stalls. All my worries slam right back into me. The game, my kid, the bakery, my friendship, and most of all…her.
What am I doing with all of this? How the hell am I managing all these things in my life? The questions I’ve been asking all season loom above my head like storm clouds. But one more look at her—cheering, exuberant, fearless—and the storm cloud vanishes.
I’m just doing it.
I’m managing it somehow.
I’m tempted to skate over to her, or give her some sort of searing you’re mine look, but this peaceful, easy feeling in my chest is enough for me right now.
Someday.
Somehow.
After I hop over the boards and sink down on the bench, I grab my water bottle covered in stickers that Charlotte’s sneaked on. I down a thirsty gulp. When I set it on the floor, my brain feels calm.
Finally, I don’t feel torn between hockey and my attraction to her. Maybe because I’ve accepted this attraction isn’t disappearing anytime soon.
It’s staying, because it’s so much more than attraction. It’s deep and real, no matter how forbidden my business partner might be.
We skate through the tunnel with a W. When I reach the corridor, Remy’s there with her tablet, congratulating us. “Now don’t forget, we have an upcoming teddy-bear toss before the holidays. Well, a fox toss, but you get the idea.”
Lake grumbles as he rips off his helmet. “A fox toss? Don’t those get old?”
She’s undeterred, smiling his way, all bright and sunshine. “They never get old, Lake.”
“Beg to differ,” he mutters.
“Oh, hush. It’ll be great.”
“It will,” someone else says.
I turn to see some dude in a vest and an undercut. Judging by the way he sets a hand on Remy’s arm, he must be her boyfriend.
Lake scowls, and yup—that scowl’s directed at Mister Too Hip.
But I push thoughts of them out of my head when my attention snags on someone else. Striding toward us is none other than my best friend and the woman in a lilac jersey that I bought for her.
Sure, I saw her in it the whole game, but now I can savor it since I’m off the ice—the way she looks like she was meant to wear my number, in a shirt that I bought her, with the V-neck and all, with her hair twisted up in a scrunchie that I’ve used on her.
It’s like everything has a double meaning for us and it’s driving me a little wild.
That’s a problem, though, since my whole damn team’s surrounding us, along with Theo.
He holds his arms out wide, directing his attention to Lake. “The fans love the fox toss. We’re doing a couple in the new year, so get ready. And let’s all embrace the chance to give back like that since it’s for charity. And for the record, that was an excellent game.”
After the team nods their thanks and filters toward the locker room, Theo hangs behind in the corridor, tapping the back of Mabel’s jersey. “We need to get you a custom one that says Afternoon Delight too. I swear you two need to market the llama-loving baker and the baking hockey player.”
I roll my eyes, but he’s got a point. “Fine, fine. We’ll get on that stat.”
“I’ll order one tonight. Will that make you happy?” she says to him.
“Yes. I like it when people do what I say.”
I laugh. “I know. Trust me, I know.”
He nods my way. “Nice job out there.”
“You were definitely the hockey-playing baker tonight,” Mabel seconds.
Her praise makes my pulse jump. It’s annoying feeling this way about her in front of him, but I’d better get used to it.
Because—dammit—she’s having a happiness effect on me.
I feel ridiculously good near her, even though I probably shouldn’t, considering I’m lying to her brother.
Someday I’ll say those words to him—I’ve got it bad for your sister.
But not today. Not till she’s ready. If she’s ever ready.
I’ve made my choice—to have this secret fling with her, no matter the cost.
But for now, I turn my attention to Theo. “Why are you so happy tonight? Is it just the win?”
His grin grows bigger. “It’s my first as the official GM.”
My jaw drops. “Holy shit, congratulations, man. That’s fantastic. You got it.” I clap him on the back in a side hug. “Let me take you out to celebrate. Both of you.”
Mabel’s eyebrows shoot up, but she nods a yes too. Another stolen moment, and I’ll take it.
Thirty minutes later, the three of us are in a booth at a bar, toasting to my friend. Once we set our glasses down, he says offhand, “Oh, I heard something about the two of you.”
Shit. Tension shoots down my spine. Mabel’s eyes widen in worry. Is this going to be another one of Theo’s ambushes? I didn’t see it coming. Not sure how to handle it either.
The happiness effect vacates, and now I’m only feeling the I’m a guilty liar effect.
But he whips out his phone and shows us pictures that Tiffany and Brittany posted and tagged us in. It’s Mabel and me wedged between the pickleball twins. The caption reads: Cutest couple ever, but didn’t stop us from destroying them like we destroyed their smash cakes! Yum!
Okay, that’s not bad, but I brace myself for whatever he heard. I stare at the screen, so I don’t have to meet his eyes. Looks like Ronnie reposted it on his social, tagging us and saying: And she can bake a fierce cake.
That’s good, and yet, I can’t quite relax. “What did you hear?” I ask the screen.
“Zakiya at the thrift shop texted. I guess the town thinks you’re dating.”
I snap my gaze up.
Mabel gulps. “Does this mean we’re fake dating for the town now?”
My pulse spikes annoyingly. With hope. Seriously fucking irritating.
Theo scoffs. “Up to you. I said it was none of their business. You two are adults and you know what you’re doing, and then I said, if you like each other that really is no one’s business.”
Wait. Is that his way of approving of something between us? Like giving some sort of blessing? Holy shit. The clouds part. The sun shines. This is too good.
But then I remind myself I’m not seeking his approval.
Because I’m not telling him about these feelings.
Mabel has already made it clear romance isn’t on the table for her.
That this thing between us is after dark.
It’s only an arrangement. And that’s not the kind of thing you need to mention to someone’s brother, no matter how close you are with him.
When he gets up a minute later and heads to the restroom, I turn to her. I really shouldn’t take this chance here, I really shouldn’t. But she’s irresistible. “You look so fucking sexy in my jersey.”
She nibbles on the corner of her lips. “So good I bet you’ll slip out in the middle of the night and come over to the firehouse.”
And that would seriously help the happiness effect.