Chapter 6
It took a lot to surprise me, but every single word out of Mikko’s mouth was downright shocking. My face still tingled from the trace of his thumb across my skin. While Mikko and I had somewhat circled each other the last few months, he’d never touched me.
And this touch?
It was far more intimate than a brush of a hand.
I swiped at my face, feeling betrayed by my body that I was crying.
Of all the things Mikko could have said, pressing right on the addict parent wound was a sure-fire way to make me sit up and take notice. Even at 26, those scars weren’t ones I’d outgrown, not with an alcoholic father who lived across town and an absent mother I hadn’t seen in two decades.
How a parent chose to walk away from a child was beyond me, a hurt so deep I wasn’t sure I’d ever heal from it. I hated that Leena was destined for the same wounds of feeling like never being enough, never worth staying for.
And fuck that.
Anger was easier than sadness, something I was all too familiar with.
I pulled away from him, squinting up at the big man. “If you’re making this up to manipulate me into helping you, I will gut you and leave no trace. No parent at all is better than a gaslighting asshole.”
Mikko reeled back, his blue eyes wide. “A Finn never lies.”
“Except about being married to me.”
“Yes. And I’m sorry for that. But I’m not sorry my subconscious chose you. You are the only one I can think of who I’d even consider letting into our lives like this. The only one I trust.”
I focused on the floor instead of him because the intensity in his eyes made me want to believe him. “How long are you thinking we’d need to do this?”
“If you could give me until next summer, that would buy me enough time to think through what my next steps are. Regular season is six months, longer if we make it to playoffs.”
The numbers added up in my head. Nine more months of no housing expenses and my clinical paycheck would add up fast. That would make a big difference.
“How about a pact?”
I looked up at him, confused. “A what?”
“A pact. I promise I won’t lie to you. To always tell you the truth. No matter what you decide, I swear it.”
That caught me off-guard. People always promised they wouldn’t hurt you. They promised they’d change. They promised everything would get better. But no one had ever promised me honesty.
It was such a strangely specific thing to offer that it lodged somewhere deep inside me, scraping against all the fragile places I’d spent years building walls around.
He stuck his hand out, and I stared at it, a sense of unease sitting heavy in my chest with each moment that passed. But he didn’t drop his hand, didn’t take it back. He waited for me, eyes searching my face, like he knew how hard a decision this was. How much his words meant.
Against every instinct screaming at me to walk away, I slipped my hand into his. His grip was warm, rough with calluses, but impossibly gentle.
“Fine,” I said. “One lie, and the deal’s off.”
“There won’t be one.” The certainty in his voice irritated me almost as much as it comforted me.
I gave his hand a single shake before pulling mine back like I’d touched a hot stove. “This doesn’t mean I’m saying yes.”
“I know.”
“It doesn’t mean I trust you.”
His mouth tipped into that annoyingly adorable half smile. “I know that, too.”
My phone vibrated in my pocket, loud against the quiet hallway, and Leena made a little whimpering sound behind the closed door. I jumped, rushing away from him and whatever this was between us.
Mikko watched me back down the hallway, his grin spreading when I ran straight into the wall. “?it?, rakas.”
There it was, that word again.
I pulled my phone out, trying to figure out how to spell rakas so I could search it, but before I made it to a search engine, a dozen text messages from the girls came through.
Moms of Mayhem
Emmy
I need an RSVP count for tomorrow morning. This is a MANDATORY meeting of the Moms of Mayhem.
Tate
Since when do we RSVP to Pilates? Don’t we just show up?
Daisy
I’ll be there.
Stevie
What kind of question is that? Of course, we’ll be there. It’s Shannon’s last day with us.
Emmy
Yes, yes. Just checking in case anyone needs some life advice or anything.
Tate
… You good?
Emmy
What? Me? Yes, I’m good. Why wouldn’t I be good?
Stevie
IDK, but the last time you were this weird you tried to convince your son the grocery store was sold out of all dairy products while you were having sex in Beckett’s truck.
Daisy
Wow, I missed that story.
Emmy
Oh my god, Stevie. We weren’t having sex.
Tate
But you were sneaking around like teenagers.
Stevie
To be young and in love.
Daisy
Aren’t you younger than Emmy?
Emmy
She’s absolutely younger than me. You all are.
Emmy
But Shannon, you’ll be there, right? You’re not, like, running away early?
Tate
Okay, I’m gonna need you to spill whatever it is you know but are trying not to say.
Emmy
No idea what you’re talking about.
“Damn you, Beckett, and your big mouth,” I muttered, reading through Emmy’s horrible attempts at dodging the conversation.
While I appreciated that she didn’t blast my news to the group, I also knew her well enough to know that I wasn’t about to get out of this without having a group discussion either.
But maybe that was what I needed—some perspective that wasn’t so tied up in my trauma and Mikko’s stupid good looks.
Shannon
Calm your tits, I’ll be there.
I was up before the sun the next morning, staring out at the mountains behind the Conway house for the last time.
No matter what I decided about Mikko’s situation, today was moving day and I was leaving my life in Linwood behind.
The room looked empty now, only a backpack full of the essentials I needed for the night left to put in the rental car.
I should’ve felt excited.
For years, this was the finish line. The time when I’d finally get to build a life that belonged to me instead of cleaning up someone else’s mess. New apartment. New job. New city. No history waiting around every corner.
So why did my chest feel so heavy?
The Conway house was still silent, Lori asleep downstairs. Beckett would come over in a few hours to help her get ready for the day, like he’d done every morning since I’d given notice.
Part of me recognized I was a complete chicken shit to be sneaking out of the house like this, but I wasn’t built for goodbyes. If Lori hugged me one more time and thanked me for taking care of her, there was a real chance I’d sob.
After last night, I’d rather sneak out like a thief in the night than let anyone witness that kind of vulnerability.
With one last look behind me, I dropped a note for Lori on the front table, then eased the door shut and slipped into the crisp October morning.
The drive into town was short, the road twisting alongside the Eagle River.
Aspen leaves blazed gold against the dark evergreens, the crisp fall air promising winter wasn’t far behind.
Linwood came into view a moment later, a picturesque mining town nestled into the Vail Valley.
Everything was a mix of the Old West and a Norman Rockwell painting—the hanging baskets outside Hudson Hardware had long since been traded for pumpkins and rust-colored mums, the storefronts dressed for fall beneath the mountains that wrapped around us on every side.
We didn’t have much—a hardware store, a grocer, a coffee shop, a hybrid Mexican-Italian restaurant, an outfitter, and a bar.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at the Lantern as I drove past, too many memories of dragging my drunk father home while he cursed at me the whole way.
For years, I thought I’d drown in all the bad memories this little town held. And yet somehow, the Pilates studio at the end of River Street had rewritten all of them.
I pulled the rental car into the first spot outside Elevation Pilates, looking up at the sign while four familiar faces crowded the front window, already watching for me.
“Oh good, you’re here,” Emmy said from the open door. “Everyone was early today, which is saying something since we don’t normally do breakfast meetings.”
Stevie stood behind her in an oversized Mayhem Hockey Club hoodie and leggings, covering her mouth while she yawned. “I haven’t even finished my first coffee yet, which is how you know I love you.”
Daisy snorted, her new foster son strapped to her back in a carrier. “I’ve been up since five with this guy, so I’m several cups of coffee deep. I’m prepared for whatever this party turns into.”
“Are you going to let her inside or are we all going to stand on the sidewalk the whole time?” Tate said from behind her. She towered over the other women, her red hair tied up in a ponytail and hanging down her back.
I grinned. “Finally. The voice of reason.”
I followed everyone into the building, tucking my backpack into a cubby on the left wall. The familiar scent of eucalyptus cleaner mixed with coffee and breakfast tacos, an unusual combination that only existed because this wasn’t our normal Tuesday night Pilates.
Beyond the front desk, purple LED lights glowed beneath the wall-length mirrors, reflecting two neat rows of reformers I’d walked between a thousand times.
The bulletin board by the desk had long since stopped advertising Pilates specials and instead held Mayhem practice schedules, rink fundraiser flyers, and a crayon drawing Stevie’s daughter Harper insisted was me, despite it looking suspiciously like a potato with black hair.
I wasn’t much for nostalgia, but now every stupid little detail felt worth memorizing.
For the last year, I’d worked the front desk here, answering phones and scheduling classes while I chipped away at my classes online. It was supposed to be a paycheck—something flexible while I finished school. But instead, this place had quietly become home.
As if she could hear my thoughts, Emmy wrapped her arms around my torso, squeezing me. I wasn’t a hugger, so I settled for a quick pat on the back.