Chapter 10 #2
“Yeah. But he’s an adult now, so… Steady job working in construction, steady girlfriend, steady character. More than me, maybe.”
I didn’t like the self-deprecation in his tone. He—Christ. He’d been too young to go through that kind of thing, yet here he was, smart and capable, standing in my kitchen with pale sunshine flowing around him.
“The girlfriend part?” I asked, aiming for something lighter.
He snorted, mouth tugging up. “Definitely don’t have that covered, no. Not great at holding down a relationship in general.”
Is that why you’re here? Because I can’t offer that anyway?
Maybe. I swallowed the words, though, and quirked him a grin. “That makes two of us. Just look at how my last one ended.”
That got a small laugh from him. “Yeah. All things considered? You win.”
“At relationship fails?”
“Yeah.” His eyes were smiling, warm. “Do you disagree?”
“Ah, no.” I shook my head, smiling back.
He watched me for a beat, then raised his chin, just slightly. “Hey. Can I ask you something?”
“You just did.”
“Second question, then.” His voice dropped to something lower, more serious. “Did you know early?”
Right—okay. That kind of question. I stilled, then exhaled. “About being into guys, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
I leaned back against the counter, glancing away from the morning brightness on his face.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “Maybe, yeah. In a way. Just didn’t let myself look at it too hard.
” Probably. “Hockey isn’t built to make that kind of thing feel simple.
Locker rooms, road trips, did you bang that chick last night?
Everything’s a joke, and if you stop laughing, you’re weird. I got good at just… shrugging it off.”
A second passed while Stellan watched me, face gone quiet. “That sounds lonely,” he said then.
“Mostly, it just felt normal. Which was kind of the problem.” I forced a breath.
“And by the time I started realizing that maybe it wasn’t, I already had too much to lose—the team, the sponsors, the cameras, all of it.
” Oh, hey, way to ruin the mood. I set my cup down.
“Anyway, you got time for breakfast? I’ve got yogurt, berries, nuts. That sort of thing.”
“A handful of nuts for the road, please?” he asked, and randomly, my mind got stuck on how he was here with me, in his work clothes from yesterday, mouth still pink from sleep. I made myself turn away to grab the nuts from a cupboard.
“Walnuts? Pecans?”
“Both?”
“High maintenance.”
“I like my toast buttered with some truffle, please.” His voice was prim. “Also, prosecco is an insult to champagne.”
It pulled a laugh out of me, real and light. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
“See that you do,” Stellan replied, and it was only once he’d done so that I realized we hadn’t turned it into a question—next time. Yeah, there would be one.
I set the nuts between us on the island so Stellan could help himself. Warmth stretched between us as he did.
“I should go,” he said. “Get home and change so I don’t roll into work in yesterday’s outfit and smelling like your shower gel. Text me if there’s anything from Reid? And, like, when you’re free again?”
“Will do,” I said, and then, before I could overthink it, I caught his wrist.
“Hey. We’ll handle it, okay? The agency, all of it.”
He nodded, smile breaking slow. “Yeah. I… Thank you. I’m used to handling stuff on my own, so it’s… nice. Not having to do that this time.”
“You offered to take the hit for me,” I said.
His mouth twitched. “You make it sound very heroic.”
“It kind of was.” I looked at him for a second too long, and his smile shifted into something gentler.
For a moment, he simply watched me, all sleep-soft eyes and the kind of quiet that made the whole kitchen feel smaller around us.
Morning light sat pale on the counter, and, Christ. He’d said it so simply last night, like throwing himself between me and the blast radius was just… an option.
“It probably won’t come to that,” he said.
“That’s not the point.” My words came out lower than I’d meant them to. “You still offered.”
“Well.” He glanced down, then back up. “I guess I did.”
Yeah. And if my life weren’t built like this—captain, closet, cameras—it wouldn’t even be an issue.
Too bad being close to me came with extra rules and forced him to bend around the parts I kept hidden.
Only I’d rather not remind him, so instead, I came around the island to kiss him, quick and easy, before I nudged his shoulder.
“Go, okay? Before you’re late to work and it’s my fault.”
The smile widened, warming his eyes. “Aye, captain.”
“Go.”
He laughed and pushed away from the island, gaze on me for just a second longer. “I’ll see you soon.”
Not quite a question, not quite a statement.
“You will,” I said, and yes, there was the agency. But I didn’t mean just that.
He put on his shoes, grabbed his jacket, and left. My kitchen felt instantly quieter, like the place had learned his presence and resented giving it up.
Silly.
An hour into practice, the rink carried the kind of energy that lived in my teeth and the back of my throat—lungs, legs, hands, edgework, all of it locked together by muscle memory.
Breathing had become part of the drill. Again.
Tight turns, quick passes, finish at the net.
I was halfway through my shift when I caught the assistant waving me off.
“Next line!”
I veered for the bench, blades hissing over the ice.
Gloves off, helmet tipped back. Water, fast, half the bottle gone while my lungs kept pumping like I was still out there.
Pulse dropping by the second, though, hands steady.
My phone waited in my bag behind the bench, and I technically wasn’t supposed to check it mid-practice, but rules were loose as long as you weren’t an asshole about it.
I tried to be subtle as I glanced down, then unlocked it to one new message from Reid.
Meeting set for five thirty Friday. Don’t let them control the tone. Don’t tell them a fucking thing they don’t need. And if they try to get cute, remind them who you are.
An address was attached underneath.
“Jesus,” I muttered under my breath.
“Everything okay, man?” Cole asked, to my left.
I didn’t look up. “Yeah.”
“Looks intense,” another voice chimed in. Joseph. “Dirty texting? Way to set the tone, Cap.”
A couple of guys snorted. I huffed out a laugh and shoved the phone back into my bag.
“Focus on your own game,” I said, grabbing my helmet again.
“Hard to, when leadership’s distracted,” he shot back, grinning.
“Get back out there,” Coach barked, saving me from having to respond.
I hopped the boards again, legs already moving before my brain caught up, Reid’s message still sitting bright and sharp in the back of my mind.
Five thirty.
Can’t fucking wait.
I’d decided we’d arrive ten minutes late. Let them wait for us because—well, hey. We weren’t scrambling. Same principle as holding the puck that extra second and making the defender bite first. Let’s see what you’re all about.
Stellan came straight from work, and I picked him up around the side of the shop, right where we’d talked after that first fitting, when he’d crashed back into my life with all the subtlety of a fist to the throat.
It felt like a different version of me. Of him, too.
He came down the sidewalk with his coat buttoned up, a small bag over his shoulder, work pants nicely tailored and expression calm in a way that likely meant the opposite.
He dropped his bag on the back seat with a soft thump, then slipped into the passenger seat.
His hair was styled like he’d taken time to do it before stepping outside.
Something about that hit me wrong.
“We’re not going in there so they can judge you,” I told him the moment he shut the door with a soft click.
His face changed, expression flickering, and yep, nailed it. “I know,” he said anyway.
I waited until he looked at me, then shot him a small, grim smile. “But you’re still worried they will. I won’t let that happen, okay?”
He stared at me, eyes a little too wide in the fading light of day. “Okay,” he echoed, quiet, and fuck, I wanted to reach over and kiss him. Couldn’t, though. Not here, not in public. Tinted side windows, sure, but not the windshield.
Later.
God, yes. Later.
I pulled back into traffic while he kept his hands in his lap, fingers loosely laced and posture easy if you didn’t know him. I did, by now, caught the way his jaw had gone a little tight, the faint pulse beating in his throat.
“Stellan.”
He glanced at me.
“I’ve got you,” I said.
“But I’m the one who pulled you into this mess.” He shook his head, just slightly. “You shouldn’t have to.”
And you shouldn’t have to cover for me.
Before I could settle on a response, he continued. “And it’s just… going back there, you know?”
“Bad memories?” I asked.
“Yeah.” He paused. “They got in my head, you know? All that time I worked for them. Made it all feel normal—like I wasn’t a person, not really. Just a solution, a means to an end. Be useful, don’t ask questions, do the thing, here’s your money.”
Oh, hell. I glanced at him, my chest gone hot and tight with the idea that some part of him still feared them. Fuck that. They’d hooked their claws into him early—they didn’t get the better half of his twenties, too.
“Hey.” I waited until he looked at me. “You’re not nineteen anymore.”
His face shifted, just slightly.
“And you’re not alone either,” I said. “It’s our mess now. And it’ll be fun to see them squirm.”
He exhaled slowly, then gave me a smile that felt much closer to the real thing, even if it still couldn’t fully mask his nerves. Strange to think that I’d considered him a good actor at first, charm on command. Now that I knew the real thing, this shadowy imitation simply didn’t compare.
At five thirty-six, we pulled into the access-controlled underground parking of an office tower, found a visitor spot, and sat in brief silence after I’d killed the engine. “Stellan,” I said, lower now, and he turned in the passenger seat to look at me.
“Yeah?”