Chapter 34
Laiken
The first shot of the morning slams into my blocker hard enough that the sting can be felt straight through the padding.
Good. I’m ready for it. I like it when the guys come in hot. It keeps me sharp. At this level, there’s no easing into practice. You either show up ready or you get cut.
“Rebound!” Knox yells as the puck ricochets off my arm and skitters loose across the crease.
River swoops in fast, going for it. I drop, seal the ice, and angle my pad just in time to knock it away before resetting my stance. Muscle memory and instinct take over. There aren’t any wasted movements.
The whistle blows in my head even if Coach hasn’t sounded it yet.
Steele crashes the crease next. There’s no chirping or hesitation from him. He barrels through traffic, firing off a quick shot before peeling off without waiting around to see the result.
“Nice one, Cap,” Jax calls out.
Steele grins as he circles back toward the boards. “Someone’s gotta keep the old man awake.”
Laughter echoes through the rink, bouncing off the empty seats as sticks scrape the ice and pucks slap against pads and boards. The familiar rhythm of practice settles in. There’s the noise, the constant pressure, and the relentless scramble to dominate.
For a few minutes, I almost forget about my plan to pull Oliver aside.
Almost, but not quite.
Coach’s whistle shrieks through the arena. “Last set! Let’s go!”
The drill kicks up another notch. Pucks come from everywhere—high glove, low blocker, tipped shots through traffic.
River plants himself in front of the net, taking cross-checks and slashes like it’s nothing, absorbing punishment without complaint.
Zane chirps nonstop. Steele snaps a shot that forces me to track it late and fight for the save as Oliver glides into the circle with that lazy confidence he wears like a second skin.
“Here we go,” Jax says with a laugh. “The Big O thinks he’s about to embarrass you.”
Oliver grins. “That’s because I am about to embarrass him.”
As soon as he snaps off the shot, I follow it, drop my shoulder, and catch it in the webbing of my glove. Leather swallows rubber with a satisfying thud.
It’s always been one of my favorite sounds in the world.
I hold the puck up for a beat.
Oliver points his stick in my direction. “Lucky save.”
“Nah,” I say. “That was skill. And we both know it.”
Coach’s whistle cuts through the cold air. “That’s it! Off the ice and hit the showers!”
The boys break formation. Laughter and banter trail behind them as they skate toward the bench.
I stay where I am for a second, glove still raised, the weight of the puck solid in my grip.
As good as this feels, as familiar and grounding as practice always is, it doesn’t change what’s waiting for me now that it’s over.
A conversation with Oliver.
Knox beelines for the tunnel, already stripping off his gloves, ready to move on with his day.
I wait until most of them are gone before pushing away from the crease.
“Hey, Van Doren,” I call out. “You mind hanging back for a second?”
“Sure.” Oliver slows, his grin still firmly in place as he coasts in a lazy circle near the boards. “What’s up?”
The rink suddenly feels cavernous. Too open and too quiet without the constant clatter of sticks and voices to fill the space.
He studies my face, amusement turning into curiosity. “You look like you’re about to tell me you got traded.”
“Might be worse than that.”
He snorts. “Come on. Nothing’s worse than that. Well, maybe retirement.”
I draw in a steady breath and brace myself before blurting, “I asked your sister to marry me. And she said yes.”
He stares at me for half a beat before laughter bursts free from him. It’s loud and unrestrained, echoing off the empty seats. After a moment, he skates close enough to clap a gloved hand against my shoulder. “When’d you become such a funny fucker? For a second there, you almost had me.”
When I don’t smile, his laughter dies mid-breath. “Oh shit.” He searches my face for any hint I’m screwing with him. It doesn’t take long for his humor to drain away, replaced by something harder. “You’re actually serious.”
“Yeah,” I answer evenly. “I am.”
His brows slam together. “What the hell, Lennox? She just started working for you.”
“I know,” I say. “It wasn’t something either of us planned. Things just… moved quickly.”
“That’s not quickly,” he snaps, straightening to his full height on skates. “That’s warp speed.” He shakes his head once. “And it feels reckless. This is my kid sister’s life you’re messing with.”
I straighten my shoulders and meet his stare head-on. “Reckless is the last thing I am. I can promise you that.”
“Then explain it to me. Because right now, I don’t understand how something like this even happens.”
I hesitate. Not because I don’t have an answer, but because I’m not sure he’ll understand the only one I can give him. “She feels like home,” I admit. “She steadies parts of me I didn’t realize were still shaking. And I do the same for her.”
The words hang between us. Oliver doesn’t respond right away. He just stares at me long and hard, like he’s weighing something heavy. Something that matters.
“You know none of this makes a damn bit of sense, right?” he finally mutters.
I dip my chin. “I can see how it would look that way, but nothing could be further from the truth.”
“And this is what Kia wants?” His tone sharpens, turning protective. “You’re not pushing her into marrying you?”
“Not at all.” I don’t hesitate. “She wants this. She chose it. And if I thought for even a second that she had doubts, I wouldn’t go through with this marriage.”
Silence stretches through the empty rink until it feels like it might snap. I have no idea if he’s about to shake my hand or punch me in the face, and I can’t help but brace for either reaction.
“Well, I guess congratulations are in order.”
Relief hits, but it barely has time to settle before he points his stick at my chest. “Just know that if you hurt her—”
“I won’t.”
His jaw tightens. “I’ll come for you, Lennox.”
I nod once. “Fair enough.”
He jerks his chin toward the locker rooms. “Let’s get moving before any of those nosy bastards decide to investigate.”
We skate toward the tunnel in silence. The atmosphere is lighter than before but still weighted. Our relationship has shifted, and it’ll take time for it to find a new balance.
There’s an explosion of noise the second we step inside the locker room. It’s filled with laughter, music, and the sounds of gear being shoved in cubbies.
Knox is the first to spot us. “Why do you two look like you just went twelve rounds?”
Jax smirks. “Probably because he just told the Big O he’s marrying his sister.”
My head snaps toward him. “How the hell did you figure that out?”
Jax shrugs like it’s nothing. “I have eyes and ears, duh.”
Steele’s assessing gaze flicks between Oliver and me. “That true?”
I straighten on my skates. “Yeah. It is.”
Oliver steps up beside me. “I’m good with it.”
Steele nods once. “Okay then. Congrats, man.”
“Thanks,” I mutter. “Appreciate it.”
As we head to our stalls, Oliver meets my eyes for a brief second before looking away. I give him a single nod, and somehow, that seals an understanding between us.
Whatever I have to do to protect and take care of his sister, I will.