Chapter 28
Zach
“Alright, heads up!” I call, flicking the puck across the ice to a scrawny twelve-year-old who scrambles to catch it with his stick. “Good hustle, Connor, but keep your head up. Eyes on the play.”
Youth hockey camp is chaos in the best way.
Kids buzzing around the ice, sticks clattering, and the sharp slice of skates cutting across the rink.
I do this every year—one weekend dedicated to coaching the next generation.
Some of these kids are naturals, others just need confidence.
Either way, it’s one of the few things in my life that feels straightforward. A game. A goal. A clear direction.
But not today. Today, my focus keeps slipping to the woman standing just off the ice, laughing as she helps set up cones for drills. Lainey.
She agreed to come with me this weekend, which surprised the hell out of me.
After everything—after her hesitations about moving in, her constant insistence that she didn’t want me doing this out of obligation—I half expected her to tell me to deal with the camp on my own.
But here she is, in jeans and a loose sweater, her hair pulled back, looking so effortlessly beautiful it hurts to watch her.
I’m screwed.
“Coach Zach!” A kid’s voice snaps me back to the ice as a puck whiz past me, narrowly missing my skate. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” I reply, shaking my head and grinning. “You’re supposed to aim at the net, not my feet.”
The boy blushes and skates off, and I glance back at Lainey. She’s crouched beside a kid who’s holding a mini stick, showing him how to angle it just right. The kid beams up at her like she hung the moon. And damn if I don’t feel the same way.
The morning passes in a blur of drills, passing plays, and breakaway practice.
Every time I catch Lainey out of the corner of my eye—laughing, encouraging the kids, or shooting me a playful look—I feel something tighten in my chest. It’s not just that she’s here.
It’s the way she’s here. Like she belongs.
When the kids finally shuffle off to the dining hall for lunch, Lainey walks over to me, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “How’s it going, Coach?”
I smirk, grabbing a water bottle from the bench. “Not bad. Though I think you’re stealing my thunder. The kids seem more interested in you than the drills.”
“Maybe they just like my coaching better,” she teases, her eyes sparkling.
“Careful, Lainey,” I say, stepping closer. “I might start thinking you’re flirting with me.”
Her cheeks flush, and she glances away, but not before I catch the small smile tugging at her lips.
We find a quiet lounge inside Montgomery Hall, the dorm building where the camp kids are staying.
It’s small but cozy, with a couple of couches, a coffee table, and a floor-to-ceiling window that lets in soft natural light.
I spread out the blanket on the carpet, setting the sandwiches, chips, and bottled water between us.
The room is cool and quiet, the perfect escape from the chaos of the rink.
“This is nice,” Lainey says, sitting cross-legged on the blanket and unwrapping her sandwich. She glances around, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Feels like our little hideout.”
I sit beside her, leaning back on my hands. “Figured we could use some quiet before the chaos starts again.”
She takes a bite, nodding thoughtfully. “You’re good with them, you know. The kids. They look up to you.”
I shrug, trying to play it cool, but her words hit something deep inside me. “They’re good kids. They just need someone to believe in them.”
She looks at me for a moment, her expression soft.
I feel like she’s about to say something else, something important, but she just shakes her head and takes another bite.
I watch her, the way her lips curve as she chews, the way her eyes flick toward the window, distant but calm. Damn, she’s beautiful.
“Lainey,” I start, my voice breaking the silence. “About moving in—”
“Zach,” she cuts me off, her tone firm. “I don’t want to move in just because I’m pregnant.”
“That’s not why I’m asking,” I say quickly, leaning forward. “It’s not just about the baby. I want to be there for you—for both of you.”
She shakes her head, her expression conflicted. “But what does that even mean? Are you doing this because you want to or because you think you have to?”
Before I can answer, a familiar voice cuts through the air, sharp and unwelcome.
“Wait. What do you mean you’re pregnant?”
I look up to see Clarissa standing a few feet away, her arms crossed and her face a mix of disbelief and anger. My stomach sinks. Of course, she’d find a way to show up. She always does.
“Lainey,” I say quietly, “give me a minute.”
Lainey nods, her lips pressed into a tight line.
“Let’s talk,” I tell Clarissa firmly, grabbing her arm as gently as I can while guiding her toward the hallway. She protests, of course, but I don’t give her a choice. The last thing I need is for this to escalate.
“What are you doing here?”
“I volunteered,” she says, her voice cold. “Someone had to be the on-call doctor. Imagine my surprise when I heard you’d be here. With her.”
“This isn’t about you, Clarissa,” I say, keeping my voice calm. “And whatever you think is going on, it’s time to let it go.”
“Let it go?” she snaps, stepping closer. “You’re faking this relationship to push me away. I know you, Zach. You’re scared of commitment. You’re hiding behind this fake pregnancy lie because of that stupid Darling curse.”
The words hit me like a slap. “You don’t know anything.”
She laughs bitterly. “I know everything about you, Zach. Because I love you. And I know you love me.”
“I never loved you,” I say, my voice low but firm. “And you don’t love me, Clarissa. You love the idea of me. The version of me my dad wanted you to see.”
Her eyes glisten with tears, and before I can stop her, she lunges forward, wrapping her arms around me. “You don’t mean that,” she whispers. “You can’t. I know you, Zach. You’re just scared.”
“Clarissa, let go,” I say firmly, stepping back and peeling her hands off me. But she tightens her grip, leaning in closer.
Before I can react, she tilts her head and tries to kiss me. I freeze for a split second, the move catching me off guard.
“Stop,” I say, my voice sharp as I push her away. “It’s over, Clarissa. Whatever you think we had, it’s done.”
I’m still holding her at arm’s length when I hear it—a faint clatter, like something small and metallic hitting the floor. My head snaps around, and I see Lainey standing near the corner of the hallway, her face pale, her eyes wide with hurt.
“Lainey,” I call out, my stomach sinking as she turns on her heel, her movements stiff. “Wait!”
But she’s already walking away.
I whip back to Clarissa, who’s still standing there, her face contorted with a mix of anger and satisfaction. “What the hell are you doing?” I snap, stepping closer, my frustration boiling over. “Do you think this is some kind of game?”
She crosses her arms, tilting her chin defiantly. “I’m fighting for us, Zach. For what we had.”
“You need to stop. There is no ‘us.’ I’m with Lainey. She’s pregnant with my child. And for the record? I like Lainey. So stop trying to ruin this for me.”
Clarissa’s eyes widen, and for a moment, I see the reality hit her. But I don’t wait for her response. I turn and take off after Lainey.
By the time I catch up to her, she’s already back in her room, throwing things into her bag.
“Lainey,” I say, stepping inside, my voice steady. “It’s not what you think. I didn’t kiss her.”
She moves as if to put more distance between us, but I grab her hand gently, holding it in mine.
She tries to pull her hand free, her voice trembling. “I don’t need an explanation. I told you—I don’t expect anything from you. That’s why I gave you an out. Take it, Zach.”
Her words cut deeper than I expect, slicing through my chest. “I don’t want an out,” I say, stepping closer again. “You think I’d still be here, still fighting for this, if I wanted one?”
Her lips part, but no words come out. She just looks at me, her expression caught between disbelief and something softer.
Before she can speak again, I close the space between us, cupping her face with both hands and kissing her.
Her breath hitches, but then her lips soften, and she leans into me, her arms wrapping around my neck.
The kiss deepens quickly, heat surging between us. When she pulls away, her breathing is uneven. “Zach,” she whispers, her voice shaking, “we can’t keep doing this.”
I meet her eyes, my forehead pressed to hers. “I know I can’t give you everything you want,” I admit, my voice rough. “But I can’t stop wanting to be close to you. I care about you, Lainey.”
She looks at me, her eyes searching mine. “What do you even like about me?”
I don’t even have to think. “I like the way you laugh, even when you’re stressed. I like how you always manage to stay calm and organized, even when everything feels like it’s falling apart. I like the way you light up when you’re helping people—like at camp today with the kids.”
A faint smile tugs at her lips, and she shakes her head. “You’re such a charmer.”
I grin, pulling her against me, hugging her tightly.
When I pull back, I catch the flicker of something new in her eyes—something she’s not saying.
I kiss her again, this time slower, savoring the feel of her lips against mine.
She kisses me back, her fingers threading through my hair as I guide her back until her legs hit the edge of the bed.
I lift her easily, laying her down, careful to keep my weight off her.
She looks up at me, her lips slightly parted, her breathing shallow.
My hands slide over her sides, up under her shirt, brushing against bare skin.
She shivers at my touch, her back arching slightly as I palm her breasts over her bra.
Her hands slide over my arms, gripping me tightly as I kiss down her neck, my lips grazing her collarbone.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I murmur against her skin.
“I don’t want you to stop,” she whispers, her voice breathless.
That’s all the encouragement I need. I tug her shirt over her head, then unhook her bra, revealing her bare skin.
She gasps when I take one of her nipples into my mouth, my tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.
My hand slides down, unbuttoning her jeans and pulling them down along with her thong.
She helps, lifting her hips, her body eager for my touch.
I spread her legs, running my fingers along her inner thigh before pressing against her. She’s wet and warm, and I groan as I slip two fingers inside her. Her head tilts back, a soft moan escaping her lips as I move, my thumb circling her clit in a rhythm that makes her body tremble.
“You like that?” I ask, my voice low as I watch her.
“Yes,” she breathes, her hands gripping the sheets.
Her hips start moving in time with my fingers, her moans growing louder. I lean down, kissing her softly, murmuring against her lips, “Shh, baby. You’ve gotta keep quiet.”
She bites her lip, stifling a moan, and I speed up, curling my fingers inside her. She gasps, her back arching as I kiss her neck, my tongue trailing along her skin.
“Come for me, Lainey,” I murmur. “I want to feel you.”
“I’m close,” she whispers, her voice breaking.
“Good. Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”
Her body tightens, and a soft cry escapes her lips as she falls apart beneath me. I slow my movements, drawing out her pleasure as she shudders, her hands gripping my arms like she never wants to let go.
When her breathing steadies, she looks up at me, her cheeks flushed. Before I can say a word, she reaches for me, her fingers sliding under the waistband of my jeans. She pulls me free, wrapping her hand around me. A groan escapes me as she strokes me slowly, her touch both gentle and deliberate.
“Fuck, baby,” I rasp, my hips moving slightly into her hand. “That feels so good.”
She smirks, her confidence growing as she watches me. “You like that?” she asks, echoing my earlier words.
“More than you know,” I manage, my voice strained. She strokes me faster, and my control slips further with every movement of her hand. My fingers find her again, slipping between her thighs as I circle her clit. Her breath catches, and her free hand grips my shoulder.
The rhythm builds between us, our bodies moving together as moans fill the room. My lips find hers again, the kiss desperate and messy as we push each other closer to the edge.
“Baby, if you don’t stop, I’m going to come,” I warn, my voice ragged.
“Come for me, Zach,” she whispers, her hand tightening around me. “I want to feel it.”
Her words undo me. I groan her name as I come, her hand still stroking me as my release spills onto her stomach. At the same time, her body trembles, and I feel her pulse around my fingers, her release drawing another moan from her lips.
We lay there, our breathing heavy, our bodies tangled together. I pull my fingers from her and bring them to my lips, tasting her. “You taste so good,” I murmur, my voice rough with satisfaction.
Lainey, still flushed and breathless, watches me before bringing her fingers to her lips, tasting me in return. “You taste good too, Zach,” she says softly, a teasing smile playing on her lips.
The sight of her, completely undone, makes my chest tighten. I lean down, brushing a soft kiss against her lips. “You’re so fucking beautiful, baby.”
She smiles shyly, and as I watch her, one thought echoes in my mind, louder than all the others.
I’m in love with her. I’m so fucking screwed.