20. Dax #2
"Those aren't mutually exclusive," Luca points out. "You could succeed in Boston and still have those other things."
"Could I? Boston's three thousand miles away from here. It means uprooting Tessa’s life again.”
"Have you asked her what she wants?" Chase asks.
"Of course I have. She says she wants whatever makes me happy."
"And what does that tell you?"
"That she's willing to sacrifice her happiness for mine, which is exactly what I don't want."
Jamie grins. "Dude, you've got it bad."
"Shut up, Torres."
"I'm serious. You're overthinking this because you're in love and you want to make the perfect decision that makes everyone happy. But maybe there isn't a perfect decision."
"Thanks. That's super helpful."
"What I mean is," Jamie continues, "maybe you need to stop trying to control all the variables and just focus on what feels right."
"What feels right is keeping our family together," Alexei says firmly. "But what feels right also is not holding back friend from dreams."
Before I can respond, my phone buzzes with a text from Tessa:
Done with meetings. Can you come to my apartment? We need to talk.
The fact that she wants to talk instead of just saying what she needs to say over text makes my stomach clench.
"I have to go," I tell the guys. "But thank you. For the honesty, for having my back, for being the best fucking teammates a guy could ask for."
"Whatever you decide," Luca says as I'm gathering my stuff, "we support you. But don't make this decision based on what you think we want or need. Make it based on what's right for you and Tessa."
Two hours later, I'm standing outside Tessa's apartment door, and I can hear her pacing inside. Which is never a good sign.
She opens the door before I can knock, looking like she's been stress-cleaning again. Her hair is escaping from its ponytail, there's a smudge of something on her cheek, and she's wearing bike shorts and an old band t-shirt that's seen better days.
"Hey," I say, stepping inside and immediately pulling her into my arms. "You okay?"
"No. Maybe. I don't know." She melts against me for a second before pulling back. "We need to talk about Boston."
“I know.” I catch her hands in mine, needing the anchor. “I’ve been turning it over in my head, and I know what I want. But this isn’t just my call—it’s ours. We said we’d decide together, and I meant it.”
“So where is your head right now?” she asks.
“Sitting in that room with the guys, talking about leaving Chicago, leaving everything we've built here—it felt wrong. Really fucking wrong."
"But it's Boston. Your childhood dream team."
"My childhood dreams were about being eight years old and wanting to be like Bobby Orr. I'm not eight anymore, Tessa. I'm twenty-eight, and what I want now is completely different."
"So what do you want now?"
"You. This. Waking up in Chicago knowing that the woman I love is building something incredible here.
Playing for a team that went to war for us when everything went to shit.
Building a life that's ours, not just mine. But I also want to know where you stand on this decision right now. It’s your life too. "
Her eyes are getting that gold flecked look that means she's fighting tears. She swallows hard. “I’d be lying if I said the offer doesn’t tempt me. The security, the recognition…part of me wonders if we’d be stupid to walk away.”
“You’re right—it’s tempting. Any sane person would think we’re crazy to pass it up.
But here’s the thing: a life that only looks good on paper isn’t enough.
I want the one that feels right. And that’s here, with you.
But what about you, Tess? Do you see your future here too—or does part of you still want Boston? ”
She takes a shaky breath. “The Boston offer is incredible, the stability, the validation. But when I really picture my life there…I don’t see myself. I don’t see us. What feels real—is right here.”
I brush my thumb across her cheekbone. "Besides, Boston might have been my dream when I was a kid, but you know what my real dream is now?"
"What?"
"Winning a Cup with the Chicago Renegades. Becoming captain of the team that believed in us when nobody else would. Retiring knowing I helped build something special with my chosen family." I lean my forehead against hers. "And doing all of that while coming home to you every night."
"That's a pretty good dream," she whispers.
"The best dream. And the thing about Boston? That was someone else's version of success. This—what we have here—this is mine."
"Are you sure? Because once you turn them down, there probably won't be another offer like that."
“I know. And yeah, It’s tempting. But Boston feels like someone else’s story. Chicago feels like ours.”
Her eyes shine as tears slip free. “Oh God, Dax. You make it so damn easy to choose us.”
A laugh escapes me, half relief, half disbelief. “Guess we’re both insane.”
Her lips curve through her tears. “Then I want to be insane with you.” She pulls me down into a kiss that feels like a promise.
The kiss starts soft, grateful, but it shifts fast into something hungrier. Something that tastes like relief and want and the kind of desperation that comes from almost losing something precious.
"I love you too," I murmur against her lips, my hands sliding into her hair and finally pulling it free from that ponytail. "I love you more than hockey, more than money, more than any fucking contract they could offer me."
She makes this small sound in the back of her throat that goes straight to my cock, and suddenly I need her closer. Need to touch her everywhere, need to show her what she means to me.
"Tessa," I breathe, trailing kisses down her throat. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"
"Well, I would love to hear it from your mouth," she says, and there's something in her voice that makes me pull back to look at her.
Her eyes are dark with want, her lips swollen from kissing, and she's looking at me with those beautiful eyes.
"You make me feel like I could conquer the world or burn it down, whichever you prefer," I say, my voice getting rougher. "You make me want to be better than I am while loving me exactly as I am."
"And?"
"And right now, you're making me want to carry you to your bedroom and spend the rest of the night showing you exactly how much choosing you over everything else means to me."
She's about to respond when both our phones start buzzing simultaneously. Text after text, call after call, all from the same people—Jamie, Luca, Martinez, my mom, Emma.
"What the hell?" Tessa grabs her phone, and I watch her face go white as she reads.
"Dax," she whispers, holding up her screen. "Look."
It's a text from Jamie with a link to a national sports news website. The headline makes my blood turn to ice:
"CHICAGO RENEGADES STAR'S SECRET MARRIAGE: Inside the Vegas Wedding That Rocked the NHL"
I look at Tessa, who's staring at me with wide eyes, and realize that everything we thought we'd figured out just got blown to hell.