Chapter 23
Tuck
Beside me, Nicklas is quiet—too quiet for a guy who usually fills the space without even trying.
Pensive, he rolls his shoulder like he’s working out a knot that won’t give, then drags a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead.
Sweat still clings to his skin, the faint scent of the rink lingering in the car.
I think about asking him again—about his family, about his sister. The way his expression shifted the last time, like I’d brushed up against something fragile. But I don’t want to push.
“You good?” I ask instead, keeping my tone easy, casual, like I’m not paying too much attention even though I am.
He rolls his shoulder again, slower this time, like it aches deeper than just practice.
And yeah…I get it. Practice was brutal. Tomorrow’s a home game against Chicago, and the coaches ran us like we’d already lost. Today’s supposed to be the easy day—the calm before the storm—but it never really feels that way.
“I’m good.”
It’s automatic. Too quick. But I nod anyway, letting it go.
Streetlights blur past as I drive toward the café, the sky dimming into that deep blue that settles over everything just before night fully takes hold.
Nicklas is grabbing a bite at The Nook before heading home.
I’m picking up Maria, and if I play this right, maybe I can convince her and the boys to come to the game tomorrow.
I haven’t asked yet. Didn’t want to make it a big deal if she had other things to do.
The woman is run off her feet as it is, but I’d like it if she was there… for me.
My sister doesn’t get in until Thursday.
Bad timing. I would’ve liked her here today.
Would’ve liked her to meet Maria sooner too.
I can already picture it—Kate and Maria at the kitchen table, coffee going cold while they talk over each other, laughing like they’ve known each other for years.
I glance over at Nicklas again, take in his profile in the dashboard light.
“What ever happened with you and Sloane?” I ask, steering us into safer territory. “Didn’t Jaylynn set you two up?”
“I liked her.”
I huff out a quiet laugh. “And…”
“And what?” he shoots back, a spark of his usual edge slipping back into place.
“You don’t want to ever settle down?”
He turns his head then, eyes glinting with something playful. “You’re one to talk. Unless there’s something you’re not telling me.”
I shake my head, focusing on the road, but I can feel his grin without even looking.
He drags his hands down over his chest like he’s presenting himself. “What kind of guy would I be if I didn’t spread this around?”
I snort, rolling my eyes. “You’re spreading something around, and it’s stinking out my car,” I shoot back, and that gets a real laugh out of him.
“Hey,” he says, still grinning. “When is Kate coming?”
There it is. He’s poking at me now, looking for a reaction. “Later,” I say, keeping it short, not giving him the satisfaction.
He watches me for a second longer, like he’s trying to read between the lines, but then he leans back, letting it go.
And because he’s finally back in that lighter mood, I don’t ask about his sister.
I don’t bring up the thing sitting just under the surface.
Not when he’s finally not carrying it so obviously.
Still, I can’t shake the thought.
The fact that he’s heading to The Nook for dinner—alone—because there’s no one waiting for him at home doesn’t feel right. It’s a quiet kind of lonely that I know all too well.
I huff out a laugh under my breath, shaking my head at myself. Because not that long ago, that would’ve been me. Sitting across from him, splitting fries, killing time like it didn’t matter.
But now…
Now I’ve got Maria. The boys. A house that feels lived-in and loud and full in all the ways that count.
I’ll be in the kitchen tonight, juggling pans while the boys argue over something ridiculous, making an extra plate to set aside for Maria for when she gets back from class.
And somehow, without meaning to, everything shifted.
I tighten my grip on the wheel, eyes flicking to Nicklas one more time.
He’s staring out the window again.
Quiet.
“You just hanging tonight?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the road, like the answer doesn’t matter as much as it does.
He shrugs, easy, familiar, and then wags his eyebrows. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be alone.”
I roll my eyes, a quiet breath slipping out of me. Same old Nicklas. Same deflection. Same charm.
“I was just thinking…” I hesitate for half a second, then push through it. “It’s a guys’ night at my place. I’ll be cooking with Lucas and Josh. Why don’t you come for dinner? We can all fumble around the kitchen together.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch it—his reaction. It’s quick, almost gone before it fully forms, but it’s there. His eyes light up, something real and unguarded slipping through the cracks before he schools it back into something casual.
“Who says I don’t know how to cook?”
I huff. “I just assumed, since you eat at The Nook every day.”
“Maybe I hang out there because I’ve got it bad for Maria.”
“Yeah, well,” I say, not taking the bait. “She seems fond of you too. In a brotherly sort of way.”
He laughs, turning toward me. “Jeez, for a minute there I thought you were jealous.”
“I’m not worried about you, Nicklas.”
The shift is immediate. The air changes. He goes completely still beside me, the teasing gone so fast it’s like it was never there. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter. Steadier.
“Then what are you worried about, Tuck?”
For a second, I swear he can see straight through me—past the bullshit, past the jokes, straight into the part of me I keep locked down tight. The part that knows exactly what this is. Exactly what I stand to lose.
Shit.
My grip tightens on the steering wheel, fingers flexing against the leather. I could dodge it. Laugh it off. Change the subject.
But I don’t.
“Truthfully, Nicklas…” My voice comes out rough, tight. “I had a past. One that didn’t turn out the way I thought it would.”
I glance at him, and what I find there steals the rest of the air from my lungs. No smirk. No teasing. Just concern. Solid and steady.
Real.
“I…I had a son.” The word catches, splinters. “Sort of.”
Ben.
Not mine by blood. But mine in every way that mattered. Mine in the quiet moments, in the scraped knees, bedtime stories and the way he used to reach for my hand like it belonged there.
Until it didn’t.
Until he was gone.
Taken from me.
Nicklas swallows, brow furrowing. “Sort of?”
I let out a breath, one that feels like it’s been sitting in my chest for years. “It’s complicated,” I say, staring out through the windshield, though I’m not really seeing anything anymore. “But I loved Ben…and I lost. And I’m afraid—”
The words choke off as I pull into a parking spot.
The car rolls to a stop, engine idling low beneath the silence that follows.
My hands are still locked around the wheel, knuckles tight, like letting go might unravel something I won’t be able to pull back together.
I force my fingers to loosen, one by one, then turn to face him fully.
“So to answer your question…what I’m worried about is history repeating itself.”
Nicklas doesn’t hesitate. “You think if you get close to Maria and the boys…she might take them away from you.”
It’s not even a question. “Yeah.” The word is quiet. Honest. “Yeah, I do.”
A beat passes. Maybe two.
“I hate to break it to you, Tuck,” he says, not unkindly. “But you already are getting close.”
I shake my head, a frustrated breath pushing out of me. “I just…I’m not sure she thinks I’m the man for that, you know? For them.”
“For them,” he repeats softly, like he’s turning the words over, testing them.
“Yeah.”
He studies me for a second, then his mouth lifts—but not into a joke. “You’re the best man I know, Tuck,” he says simply. “We couldn’t have asked for a better captain. And you care about every single one of us like we’re more than just teammates. That’s something.”
My chest tightens, my heart pounding behind my ribs. “Thank you. But…” I drag a hand down my face, my mind going back to the past. “Stability. What if I can’t be there? What if I can’t be the man they need me to be?”
He nods slowly, like he gets it. Like he sees all the pieces I’m not saying out loud—the travel, the missed moments, the distance that stretches too far no matter how much you try to bridge it.
“Long distance,” I say quietly, staring ahead again. “It never works.”
The words hang there between us.
“I think she’s been around enough hockey players to know what the lifestyle is like,” Nicklas says, leaning his head back against the seat, voice easy again. “And she does have the WAGs.”
I nod slowly. He’s right. Maria isn’t na?ve. She knows the travel, the long stretches apart. She knows the women who live it every day, who don’t just survive it, but thrive.
I glance out at the sidewalk, people rushing past with their heads down against the wind, coats pulled tight. “I’d better let Maria know I’m here,” I say, pushing the door open. “I don’t want her to be late.” I glance at Nicklas. “You decide on dinner.”
“Yeah,” he says, as I reach for the handle. “And I’ll help the boys cook. We don’t want a repeat of the summer salad.” He rubs his stomach dramatically. “We have a game to win tomorrow.”
That pulls a real laugh out of me, and I shove his shoulder. “I’ll believe your kitchen skills when I see them.”
“Be prepared to be amazed.”
“You want to wait here?” I ask, stepping out into the cool evening air.
“Nah, I’ll come in,” he says, rounding the hood. “Sneak a few cinnamon buns for later.”
I chuckle, the sound carried off by the wind as it whistles down the street. A paper cup skitters across the pavement, bouncing against the curb, and without even thinking, Nicklas jogs a step to catch it. He tosses it into a nearby trash can.
I pull open the café door, the warmth hitting my face—
—and everything inside me stutters.
My gaze locks onto a lone woman sitting at a table. My legs nearly give out.
“What the fuck?” I murmur, blinking hard, sure I’m seeing things. Sure she’ll disappear if I look away and back again.
“What’s up, Chucky?”
My chest tightens.
Nicklas nudges me from behind, trying to see past me. “What—”
“Kate?” The word barely makes it out.
She’s already standing, arms wide, grin bright and completely unapologetic. “Are you going to stand there like a tree stump or give your sister a hug?”
“Kate, Jesus, what are you doing here?” My brain is still trying to catch up, still stuck somewhere between confusion and disbelief.
“I came early,” she says like it’s nothing, like she didn’t just knock me completely off balance. “Thought I’d surprise you.” Her grin widens. “Seems like it worked.”
Yeah. No shit.
She steps into me and I wrap my arms around her automatically. She smells the same—like home, like a part of my life I haven’t had close in too long.
Over her shoulder, I see Maria coming from the back, wiping her hands on a towel, that familiar smile already in place…except it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. And the second those eyes land on mine, something shifts. It’s subtle. So subtle most people wouldn’t catch it.
But I do.
The brightness isn’t there. The warmth—the easy, open way she usually looks at me—it’s dulled. Guarded.
My stomach drops.
What is going on?
A tight, uneasy feeling coils low in my gut, and I force my expression to stay neutral, even as everything inside me starts to twist. Kate pulls back, still smiling, but before I can say anything, Nicklas steps in, nudging me aside.
“Kate,” he says, all charm and easy confidence. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
He takes her hand, and she arches a brow, clearly amused. “Oh, you have?” He flashes her that grin—the one that’s gotten him out of more trouble than I can count. “Let me guess,” she says, laughing lightly. “Nicklas.”
“Nicklas, at your service.”
“She doesn’t need anything you’re serving, dude,” I mutter, shoving him out of the way and reclaiming my space beside her.
I drape an arm over Kate’s shoulders. “You met Maria?”
Kate winces, just a little. “I may have frightened Maria,” she admits. “But I didn’t do it on purpose.”
My chest tightens. “What do you mean?”
She gestures vaguely. “I stopped by your place this afternoon. You weren’t there, obviously, and I figured I’d wait. She came in to grab a book and—” Kate huffs out a small laugh. “I don’t know if she thought I was a burglar or…well. Something else.”
And just like that—
It clicks.
The air leaves my lungs in a slow, heavy exhale.
After everything Maria’s been through, after the mess with her ex, she didn’t just see a stranger in my house.
She thought she saw proof of something she’s been afraid of all along.
My stomach clenches hard, the realization settling deep and uncomfortable in my chest.
Because the truth is…
She doesn’t trust me.
Christ, am I failing her?
If that’s the case, then I damn well need to step up my game, because I want her, the boys, even the damn cat, in my future. Yeah, it’s true, my past has haunted me, and has kept me from moving forward, from fighting for what I want.
I’m damn tired of that.