Chapter 37 Center Ice Luna
Center Ice
Luna
I should’ve known something was up when Maisie told me she’d signed us up for a volunteer shift at Paws.
She’s many things. Chaotic, brilliant, and always running late.
But a planner is not one of those things.
She lets her day sweep her from one adventure to the next.
I’m the planner. The one who needs every aspect of my week scheduled in advance. Usually.
“We just need to swing by the rink,” she says as we turn off the main road heading in the opposite direction of Paws. “I forgot my bag in the office, and Coach left me a strongly worded voicemail to come pick it up.”
“Didn’t I see you dump it in the laundry room?” I frown, squeezing my eyes shut as if that will sharpen the memory. But my brain has been engulfed in fog lately, so I could be mistaken.
Maisie keeps her eyes locked on the road, hands gripping the wheel in a precise ten and two position. “Nope.”
Always an adventure. I drop my head, shutting my eyes. Maybe I can get a little extra nap in while Maisie runs into the arena.
I’m in that in-between space right before you fall asleep.
But a jolt jerks me out of it, and I blink awake to an unfamiliar place.
The car rumbles down a narrow road lined with old pine trees and little snowbanks that refuse to melt.
I recognize the community center immediately.
Faded paint on an old wooden sign. Broken parking slabs.
But what catches my eye isn’t the ugly concrete building.
The glow catches my eye. Strings of white lights are hung among the tree branches, looped around the rink boards, and wrapped in haphazard bows over tents and donation bins.
There’s a crowd already forming. Families, couples, kids dragging hockey sticks behind them and skating in circles.
A booth with hand-painted signage that reads: Skate for Something.
“What is this?” I whisper.
Maisie pulls into a gravel spot and kills the engine. “This,” she says, “is something worth showing up for.”
And then she’s out of the car.
The cold hits sharp and crisp. It slices through the sleep-fog slowing down my mind and fills my lungs with something that feels dangerously close to hope.
I huddle deeper into my coat, trailing after Maisie. She’s walking fast, like she’s afraid I’ll bail if she gives me the chance. And she wouldn’t be wrong. I’m two steps from bolting when the music kicks in.
It’s upbeat and cheerful. More dance pop vibes than you’d expect at the well-loved center. I find myself smiling and nodding my head to the beat.
And then I see them.
JJ. Dev. Cole. Krista. Jenna. Beth. My sister. And Beau. Both of our teams together. They’re lined up on the ice. But instead of skating, they’re dancing.
They’re moving in choreographed unison. For the most part.
All in. Waving their arms and swaying their hips.
JJ is leading the charge, doing something that might be the sprinkler or maybe interpretive jazz hands.
Until Celeste shoves him without breaking step.
Dev is a beat behind with a frown on his face.
He’s much less enthusiastic than the rest of them, but Cece more than makes up for his halfhearted effort.
The girls are clearly more coordinated, but the chaos is universal.
And Beau… Beau is dead center. In the last place I’d ever expect him to be.
He’s got a black Lightning hat on backwards to match the rest of his team.
His cheeks are pink from the cold, and he’s wearing a hoodie.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him dressed this casually.
There’s a chunk of yellow streamer stuck to his shoulder and a focus to his movements that’s a little stilted but still heartbreakingly sincere.
I freeze. Because, for a moment, everything freezes. The noise in my head, the burn in my chest, the ache of being let down. It all goes quiet. Like my brain finally hit pause to enjoy the moment.
The golden boy who’s supposed to be polished and perfect is making an utter fool of himself in front of a crowd. And his eyes are locked on me.
A few people are filming. I catch sight of my own face on a giant projected screen behind the booth, and I reach up to brush away the tears I hadn’t noticed until they cooled on my cheeks.
It’s a live stream broadcasting from my account. I turn to Maisie, wondering who hacked my account to pull this thing off and how they kept it a secret from me.
Maisie bumps my shoulder. “Keep watching.”
I take her advice because it’s the only option. I couldn’t move even if I tried.
Because Beau just skated to center ice. He picks up a microphone, and my heart does something it hasn’t dared to do in days. It stirs.
Beau taps the mic twice, wincing at the shrill screech. He lowers it with a sheepish half-smile. It’s somewhere between sorry and please don’t run.
I don’t move. Not because I can’t, but because every part of me is listening.
He clears his throat. “Hello. Um, this is not my usual thing, obviously. I’m more of a skater and less of a speechmaker. And public declarations are not really my thing. Feel free to send me to the penalty box if I flub this.”
A ripple of laughter breaks across the crowd.
Beau glances down, then up again, eyes skimming until they land on mine. They stay there. Locked on me. “Hi, everyone,” he says. “Sorry for delaying the event, but I just need to clear the air before we get on with the game.”
“Not sure where to start, so here goes. I made a deal last year. You don’t really need to know the details, but I said I’d give up on the draft.
The career I actually wanted. I agreed, because I thought that was the only way I could be there for someone I care about.
” His eyes flick to Cece for a moment, giving him away.
He isn’t willing to spill her secrets to the rest of the world, but the fact that he’s opening up this much at all is a miracle.
“But that was kind of an excuse too. I didn’t tell anyone the actual reason. The deeper one. Not the team. Not my sister. Not Luna.” His voice catches slightly. “Especially not Luna.”
The camera pans in on him, and it’s his face up there on the big screen. Just as beautiful. Sharply etched cheekbones, perfect features, stunning blue eyes. But there’s so much warmth in them. A depth of emotion he usually hides from everyone. Including himself.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard.
“I’ve been dealing with anxiety since I was thirteen.
Sometimes it feels like drowning in shallow water.
Sometimes it’s just a hum in the back of my brain I can’t turn off.
It almost wrecked my chances of even a college hockey career when a panic attack sent me flying off the ice during a crucial game.
So I didn’t think I could do it. I didn’t think I would ever be able to make a career if I couldn’t trust myself not to buckle under the pressure. ”
The crowd remains still other than the odd rustle while he gathers his thoughts.
“The last few years weren’t too bad. It was low level.
Always lurking under the surface, but never quite pulling me under.
But then this year it got bad. Really bad.
I could feel each day taking me closer to an ending.
The end of the thing I’ve always loved most. Until now.
” His eyes flick to me again, and my chest tightens.
He lifts his hand up, rubbing it over the hat instead of his hair. “So I started seeing someone. A therapist. For the first time. Because someone, I won’t name names, called me out for never doing the emotional work. For not looking after my mental health.”
I blink. My eyes burn.
He smiles faintly. “And that someone made me believe I could do it. That maybe I deserved to want things, even if they scared me.”
You can feel the crowd leaning in. Invested.
He glances at the mic, then back at me. “But I broke a promise to her. I let her down. Because I was afraid. And it wrecked me.”
The words are sharper now. Clearer. Gaining momentum.
A breeze picks up across the ice. I wrap my arms around myself and stay rooted to the spot as he lowers his voice.
“So this is me. Screwing up. Owning it and trying again.” The mic trembles just slightly in his hand.
“I’m not perfect. And I’m definitely not easy. I walk around in a custom suit with perfect hair, and a practiced smile. But underneath, I’m a ball of anxiety and fear. But I know what I want now. I know who I want.”
The breath I’m holding turns sharp.
“And it’s you, Luna.”
My heart trips.
“I love you,” he says. “In a way I never thought possible. I love you like I need to be better because you exist. And because being around you makes the noise quieter. I’m willing to face all my darkest demons, so I can be a better man for you.
So I can be worthy of you. Because you deserve someone who can be honest, and open, and there for you when you need him.
Someone who shows up for you every day, not just when it’s convenient. ”
His eyes don’t leave mine.
“I wasn’t even supposed to be asking for this.
I wanted to make this event happen because it’s important.
Because it’s going to help so many people and animals.
That’s what I told your friends and myself.
But I’m going to put it out there anyway.
Because I have to.” He tilts his head up, shutting his eyes for a moment.
“I don’t need a second chance. You don’t owe me one.
But I want one anyway, and I hope it’s not too late. I’m here if you want it.”
For a second, no one moves.
The music fades. The lights hum. A kid nearby yells for his dog like nothing life-changing just happened on the ice.