Chapter 23 — Lena #2
Carter was swallowed by teammates, Mason grabbing his helmet, Tank nearly crushing him in a hug, Logan tapping his shoulder once with the kind of restraint that probably counted as affection.
After the handshake line, Carter skated toward the boards below section 104.
His smile broke wide.
Paige made a soft, strangled sound beside her.
“What?” Lena asked, not looking away.
She waited outside the locker room with Paige and half the student section’s lingering noise echoing down the corridor.
Paige, blessedly, announced after ten minutes that she was going to “give them a Hallmark hallway but remain within legal intervention distance” and wandered toward the vending machines.
Then the locker room door opened.
Mason came out first with an ice pack on his shoulder and a grin bright enough to require medical evaluation.
“Clipboard!”
Lena pointed at him. “Do not.”
He stopped. “Lena.”
He bowed slightly. “Did you witness my heroic goal?”
“I did.”
“Assisted by emotional growth.”
Mason looked delighted. “Tell Carter that. He gets weird when praised.”
Mason’s expression softened unexpectedly. “He did good tonight.”
“Yes. He did.”
Mason nodded, then looked toward the vending machines. “Is Paige here?”
Lena narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
“No reason.”
“Mason.”
“I owe her a cookie from snack diplomacy.”
“She’s by the vending machines.”
“Excellent. Normal errand. No subtext.”
Freshly showered, hair damp, suit replaced by a Ridgeview hoodie and joggers, backpack over one shoulder. A small cut marked his cheekbone, and his bottom lip looked a little swollen from either the game or the emotional restraint required not to punch Decker.
He stopped when he saw her.
Everything else blurred.
“Hi,” he said.
Lena folded into him, face against his chest, hands gripping the back of his hoodie.
Real.
Needed.
“You did it,” she whispered.
“But you did.”
His arms tightened.
“I heard you,” he said.
She pulled back enough to look at him. “You did?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Or I saw you.” His hand brushed her cheek. “I saw you and remembered.”
“Who I’m trying to be.” His thumb moved beneath her eye, catching a tear she had not realized escaped. “Who you already see.”
The hallway was not empty. Players were still coming out. Somewhere down the corridor, Mason laughed too loudly. Fans walked past. The arena hummed around them.
But Lena did not care.
Not anymore.
“You stayed yourself,” she said.
Carter’s eyes shone.
“Your voice was louder.”
Carter looked at her, and his expression changed like he saw the word coming before she said it.
His breath caught.
“Lena,” he whispered.
Not with Mason and Paige and half the team within shouting distance.
“I think I’m falling in love with you,” she said.
Carter went completely still.
The world seemed to stop around them.
For one terrifying second, Lena could hear only the blood rushing in her ears.
The man becoming.
His hands tightened gently at her waist.
“You think?” he asked, voice rough.
A laugh broke out of her, half sob. “That is what you’re focusing on?”
His smile trembled. “I need accuracy. You’ve trained me.”
She laughed again, tears slipping down her cheeks.
“I am falling in love with you,” she said, clearer this time.
For one second, he just breathed.
When he opened them, they were bright.
“I’m already there,” he said.
“I was trying to be patient,” he said, voice low and unsteady. “Trying not to rush you. Trying not to make scary big scarier. But I’m there, Lena.”
Just Carter Hayes in an arena hallway, bruised and exhausted and honest.
“I love you,” he said again, like he wanted to make sure she could believe it. “And it’s scary as hell, and I don’t know how to do it perfectly, but I know I don’t want to run from it.”
Lena’s hands rose to his face.
“You don’t have to do it perfectly.”
His smile broke.
“Good.”
“You just have to stay.”
“I can do that.”
His expression sobered.
“I promise I’ll try every day.” His thumb brushed her cheek. “And when I mess up, I’ll tell you the truth and come back instead of hiding behind a joke.”
Lena rose onto her toes and kissed him.
There was only Carter’s mouth on hers, his hands at her waist, her fingers against his jaw, and the impossible feeling of a risk turning into something steady beneath her feet.
Obviously.
Carter pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers.
“Mason?” Lena whispered.
“Probably.”
Mason’s voice echoed from down the hallway. “FOR HEALTHY LOVE AND ALSO HOCKEY!”
Paige shouted, “Cross, I swear on my clipboard!”
Perfectly ridiculous.
Exactly theirs.
Carter looked at her again, softer now.
“I love you, Brooks.”
Her chest filled with warmth so sharp it almost hurt.
“I love you too, Hayes.”
His smile turned devastating.
Then Logan Reeves walked past them, expression blank, hockey bag over one shoulder.
He glanced at Carter, then Lena.
“Finally,” he said.
And kept walking.
Carter stared after him. “That was at least one of his daily ten words.”
Carter held her there, in the hallway outside the locker room, while the team shouted and Paige threatened and Mason probably planned illegal commemorative merchandise somewhere nearby.
She had taken the risk.
So had he.
And somehow, in the middle of fundraiser chaos, hospital fear, campus gossip, donor dinners, hockey games, and one deeply unauthorized Team Clipboard shirt, they had found something neither of them could control.