Chapter 14
Fourteen
Lainey
Holiday-themed Grizzlies gear surrounds us, the early afternoon crowd clearly ready for some hockey.
Luna and the others have a box for the matchup against the Hawks—which sounds very fancy. Then again, just coming to a hockey game in the first place sounded fancy to me only a few months ago. Now I know the people on the ice—and in the box—and…
Well, maybe I’m a little fancy too.
Especially since Ollie and I are spending Christmas Eve here.
Later tonight, we’ll all go over to Luna’s house in our pajamas, play some games and watch some movies, and then—
“Santa!”
Then, yup, Santa will be coming.
After Sawyer left the house yesterday to do things involved with his actual life instead of rescuing me from parking lots and watching over my house and cooking me several delicious meals, Ollie and I made a quick trip to the mall.
He chastised me twice for my language in traffic, and then I let my four-year-old buy some truly questionable last-minute presents.
Later, we hung out in my office and…I continued plotting that book I’m not going to write.
Except…I kind of did write it.
Or five thousand words of it.
Dumb, since it’ll likely end up shoved in a drawer (or really, relegated to some random folder on the desktop of my computer that I’ll never open).
But when my brain gets hooked on an idea like this…
I can’t let it go.
So, instead of fighting it, I’ve given in.
“Mom, it’s Santa!” Ollie cries, jerking at my hand. “Can I go see him?”
I nod and trail him over to the gaggle of kids surrounding Saint Nick, once again, marveling at how much my little guy has blossomed in just the last few months. Before Ben died, and in the months after, I truly worried if I’d ever hear him speak more than a few words in public at a time again.
With all the doctors’ visits and the stress of taking care of him, I watched him draw into himself, fade into the background, and I didn’t do a good enough job at making him feel seen.
Logically, I know I was just barely surviving myself, but I hate that any of our family’s struggle touched him.
In moments like this—as I watch him run toward something fun and loud and potentially overwhelming—the guilt quiets a little.
He’s been through too much, lost too much.
But he’s here and he’s thriving and he’s resilient.
That’s enough for right now.
I exhale, mentally nod, and then reach him just in time to give the approval for the face paint he wants.
By the time he’s transformed into a grizzly bear, puck drop is approaching so we head for the box and our friends inside.
“Alex!” Ollie says, rushing forward with a growl. “I’m a bear!”
Alex smiles good-naturedly. “I see that.” He has his father’s—Axel Finnegan, who plays for the Gold—trademark grin.
“Do you want to get your face painted too?”
“Uh, no, bud,” he says gently. “I’m going to my dad’s late tonight so probably won’t have time to shower before bed.”
We’ll likely be up late tonight too.
RIP Ollie’s pillowcase and sheets.
Or maybe RIP the additional laundry I’ll be doing on Christmas Day.
Now, it’s a mental shrug I give myself.
Holidays are gonna holiday.
“Is your dad playing tonight?” I ask.
He nods. “Mom’s gonna drop me off at the Gold Mine”—the fans’ nickname for their arena—“after this game is done.”
“A full day of hockey.” I smile at him because the kid is completely sports crazy. “That sounds fun.”
He smiles back. “It is.”
“Alex?” Veronica calls.
“If I don’t see you later,” I say when he hesitates. “Have fun at your dad’s game tonight.”
“Thanks!” He walks over to his mom and I watch as she introduces him to a boy around his age.
“That’s Nate,” Luna says quietly, bouncing Reese on her shoulder. She nods at a petite, curvy redhead standing just a few feet away. “Josie—Vi’s assistant at Blue Line Matchmaking—just adopted him.” She leans closer, voice dropping further. “He lost his dad too.”
I suck in a breath, heart hurting for the kiddo whose expression is carefully blank, but whose eyes positively radiate hurt. “Damn.”
“I know,” she says. “But Bri and Alex have him.”
“And Ollie does too,” Kailey murmurs, Sophie strapped to her chest, and I blink, realize that my son has followed them.
Nate scowls, opens his mouth, and Josie winces and moves toward them, as though she’s going to intervene.
I take a step, following her lead.
Then freeze when Alex says something and Nate’s face changes.
He crouches down, mouth moving, and I’m too far away to hear what he says.
But Ollie does and he reacts with the big heart he has—throwing his arms around Nate and hugging him tight.
Nate goes utterly still.
Then I watch the wave of emotion come over him, and he hugs Ollie back, his eyes closing for a long moment.
Faye takes my hand, and I know I’m not the only one who’s holding back tears.
Nate’s eyes fly open and he releases Ollie in a rush, turning away and moving to the far side of the box, ignoring everyone as he stares out at the ice.
But I don’t miss that he surreptitiously wipes his eyes.
Josie stands by herself for a moment then visibly pulls it together as we move toward her.
Luna makes the introductions and then we’re all doing the small talk thing—discussing traffic and the get-together Luna’s hosting that Josie and Vi and a couple of the Hawks players are going to be attending too.
“Where is Vi, anyway?” Luna asks.
“Meeting a new client,” Josie says.
Luna lights up. “Details. Immediately.”
Josie shakes her head. “You know I can’t tell you that.”
“Confidentiality. Smanch-ientiality. Details, please!”
Luckily, Josie’s saved by the lights going down and the team’s song blaring through the speakers.
Matchmaking falls to the wayside.
Because the Grizzlies pour out onto the ice and the crowd erupts with cheers, Ollie’s voice erupting alongside them.
And though I don’t cheer out loud, my pulse is speeding through my veins as my eyes immediately find number nineteen on the rink.
He should be one of many, blending in with the other dudes in helmets and matching jerseys and skates.
But my mind—and my body—immediately knows him.
He moves with a fluid athleticism I know I’ll never possess.
And I remember how that athleticism can demonstrate itself in other places.
Other horizontal places. And vertical. And—
“Go, Grizzlies!” Ollie shouts and I table the dirty thoughts, though I do it pressing my thighs together, instinctually seeking to soothe the ache there. “Go, Saw-yur!”
There’s no way he could possibly hear Ollie all the way up here, especially over the cheers of the crowd.
But his gaze comes to the box anyway.
Like he was looking for us.
Ollie’s jumping around like a loon and waving, and Sawyer’s face…lights up.
Now it’s not heat in my belly that’s driving me to distraction.
It’s warmth in my heart.
Sawyer waves then lines up at the blue line, his expression one of complete and utter focus.
And that’s freaking sexy too.
The whistle trills.
The puck drops.
And…it’s time for some hockey.