30. Dean
Dean
I don’t wake up right away. Not fully. It’s slow, the kind of waking that doesn’t come with tension or instinct or the immediate need to move. It comes with warmth. With weight. With something soft pressed into me that my body recognizes before my mind catches up.
Her. She’s tucked into me like she belongs there, one leg draped over mine, her face half buried against my chest, her hand curled loosely against my ribs like she fell asleep holding on and never let go.
I don’t move. I don’t want to break it. Because this—this right here—is the best part of my day, and it hasn’t even started yet.
My hand slides slowly along her back, fingers tracing the same path I’ve memorized over the last two nights, not because I need to learn it, but because I can’t seem to stop touching her once I start.
She shifts slightly in her sleep, pressing closer without waking, like her body finds mine even when she’s not thinking about it.
And that—that does something to me every damn time.
The last two nights have been like this.
Sneaking around like we’re getting away with something.
She waits until the hallway goes quiet, until the guys are in their rooms and the noise settles into nothing, and then she shows up at my door like she was always meant to be there. No hesitation. No second guessing.
Just her. And I let her in every time like it’s the easiest decision I’ve ever made. I take my time with her. Not rushed. Not careless. I learn her.
Every reaction. Every shift in her breathing.
Every place she softens or tightens or leans into me like she trusts me to take her there and bring her back again.
I don’t miss a single second of it, don’t skip over anything, don’t treat it like something I’m trying to get through.
I make sure she feels it. Every part of it. Because she deserves that.
After—we don’t just fall asleep. That’s not what this is.
We stay up. Talk. About everything and nothing at the same time, her head resting against my shoulder, my fingers tracing patterns along her skin while she tells me things she doesn’t say out loud during the day.
Things she holds back when the world is watching.
And I listen. Not because I have to. Because I want to. Because I’d sit there all night if that’s what it took to hear every piece of her she’s willing to give me.
Then she falls asleep. And I hold her. All night. Not letting go. Not shifting away. Not once. I didn’t know how much I needed this until I had it. Didn’t realize how much something like this could settle me in a way nothing else ever has.
We lost last night. I should be pissed. I should be replaying every missed opportunity, every bad call, every second we let slip through our fingers on home ice in someone else’s arena.
That’s who I am. That’s what I do. But right now—wrapped around her like this—I can’t find it.
The anger’s there somewhere. I know it is.
Waiting for me the second I step out of this room and back into my role, back into the place where I don’t get to feel anything but control and expectation.
But here? With her? It doesn’t reach me. My chin dips slightly, resting against the top of her head as I let out a slow breath, my hand flattening against her back, holding her closer without waking her. And somewhere in the quiet of this moment—it hits me. Not loud. Not sudden. Just…certain.
I’m in love with her. Not something I question.
Not something I need to sit with and figure out.
It’s already there, settled deep in my chest like it’s been building for longer than I realized and I’m just now catching up to it.
The way I think about her. The way I need her close.
The way everything in me shifts the second she walks into a room.
That’s not temporary. That’s not something I walk away from.
She asked me to be careful with her heart.
The thought tightens something in my chest, heavier now, more real.
And I will be. I’ll guard it like it’s mine to protect.
But the truth sitting under that—the part I don’t say out loud—is that mine’s already gone.
Already wrapped up in her in a way I don’t know how to undo even if I wanted to.
And I don’t. Because the idea of losing this…
losing her… that’s the only thing that actually feels like it could break me.
My hand shifts slightly against her back, pulling her closer without waking her, my jaw tightening just a fraction as something else settles into place right behind it.
I’m not letting that happen. Not by accident.
Not because I hesitated. Not because I didn’t fight for her the way she deserves.
If being careful with her heart means I take my time—I will.
But if I don’t find a way to keep her—to make sure she’s mine in every way that matters—I already know what that’s going to do to me.
And that’s not a risk I’m willing to take.
The knock is loud. Sharp against the quiet we’ve been wrapped in, cutting through it like it doesn’t belong here.
Then voices and laughter. Maddie jolts in my arms, her whole body going tight in an instant, breath catching as she tries to figure out where she is and what just happened all at once.
“It’s okay,” I murmur, tightening my hold on her before she can pull away completely, my hand sliding up her back, grounding, steady. “It’s just the guys.”
Her head lifts from my chest, eyes wide, panic already settling in before she even fully wakes.
“They can’t find out,” she whispers, her voice rushed now, her hands pressing lightly against me like she’s trying to put space between us without actually leaving. “Dean—we can’t—”
“I don’t want to hide anymore.” The words come out before I can soften them.
Because it’s the truth. Because being here with her in my bed, wrapped around me like this feels too damn right to keep pretending it’s something else.
Her brows crease immediately, something between frustration and worry flickering across her face. “Just… a little longer,” she says, quieter now, but firm in a way that tells me she’s not asking. “Please.”
The knocking comes again. Louder this time. And Luka’s voice follows right behind it. “Coach, you alive in there or what?”
Jasper laughs, something muffled through the door. “If he’s not, I’m taking his coffee.”
I exhale slowly, pressing a quick kiss to Maddie’s forehead before I shift, forcing myself to move even though everything in me wants to stay right where I am.
“Bathroom,” I murmur, my hand brushing her arm as I pull back. “Go.”
She doesn’t argue this time. Just scrambles out of bed, grabbing the first thing she can find to cover herself before slipping toward the bathroom, her movements quick, quiet, like she’s done this before—even though we both know she hasn’t.
The door clicks shut just as the knocking turns into a pounding.
“Coach!” I drag a hand down my face, forcing my expression back into something neutral, something that doesn’t give anything away as I cross the room and open the door.
Jake’s standing there first, coffee in hand, Luka right behind him, Jasper already leaning past them like he’s trying to see inside before I even move.
“Well, look who finally decided to wake up,” Jake says, holding out the cup like a peace offering. “We were about to assume you died in your sleep.”
“Or had company,” Jasper adds, a grin already forming like he’s hoping for it.
My jaw tightens just slightly, but I don’t give him anything.
“Coffee,” Luka says, stepping forward and handing me another cup, his eyes flicking over my shoulder for half a second before settling back on me. “Figured you’d need it.”
“I’ve been up,” I answer evenly, taking the cup without hesitation, stepping just enough into the doorway to block their view inside without making it obvious.
“Yeah?” Jake raises a brow. “Doing what?”
“Thinking about how we lost last night,” I say, letting just enough edge slip into my voice to redirect them, to give them something else to latch onto.
It works. It always does.
Jasper groans, leaning back slightly. “Jesus, don’t start that already.”
Luka shakes his head. “We’ve got time before walkthrough, Coach. You can rip us apart then.”
I take a sip of the coffee, letting the heat settle me, letting the moment stretch just long enough that it feels normal again. Controlled. Contained. But behind me—I know she’s there. That thought makes me want to get these fuckers out of here quickly. I don’t let them linger. Not today.
“Conference room,” I say, keeping my tone easy, controlled, like this is exactly what I planned all along. “Hotel has got breakfast set up. Be there in ten.”
Jake nods like that’s all he needed, already turning. Luka follows without question, and Jasper lingers just a second longer, eyes flicking past me like he’s still trying to catch something I’m not giving him.
“Don’t take too long,” he says, a smirk pulling at his mouth. “We might eat everything.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” I shoot back, already easing the door shut before he can say anything else.
The lock clicks. Silence settles again. For a second, I just stand there, my hand still on the door, my shoulders tight from holding myself in place while they were here.
Then I feel her. Her arms slide around my waist from behind, soft and warm and real, her cheek pressing lightly into my back like she’s grounding herself after everything just shifted too fast.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, her voice quieter now, softer against me. “I freaked out.”
I turn slowly, my hands coming to her hips as I face her, pulling her in without thinking, without hesitation.
“Don’t worry about that,” I tell her, my thumb brushing lightly along her side, steady, reassuring. “You’re allowed to feel whatever you need to feel.”
Her fingers tighten slightly in my shirt, like she’s still holding onto something that hasn’t fully settled yet.
“But I meant what I said,” I add, my voice lowering, more serious now, something real sitting behind it that I’m not pulling back from.
Her brows crease slightly as she looks up at me.
“About not hiding,” I continue, my hand lifting to her face, brushing her hair back gently, the way I’ve started doing without thinking. “I don’t want to keep this quiet like it’s something we’re supposed to be careful with.”
I take a slow breath, letting it out as I hold her gaze.
“I want to love you out loud,” I say, the words coming steady, certain, not rushed, not forced.
“I want people to know you’re mine. I want them to see the woman I get to walk beside and know I didn’t get lucky—she chose me.
” Her eyes shift slightly at that. Widen.
Just a fraction. “I want the world to know I’ve got the most incredible woman on my arm,” I finish, quieter now, but no less certain.
She leans back just enough to really look at me. To study my face like she’s searching for something she’s not sure she heard right.
“You… love me?” she asks, her voice soft, almost careful.
And that—that wasn’t how I planned it. I wanted it to be bigger.
Better. Something she’d never forget. Not this.
Not slipped into a sentence like it’s just another truth sitting between us.
But I don’t take it back. I don’t soften it.
I don’t pretend it didn’t happen. My hand settles more firmly against her jaw, my thumb brushing lightly along her cheek as I hold her there, making sure she sees exactly what I’m saying.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice low, steady in a way I don’t question. “I love you.”
Her breath catches. Her eyes fill almost instantly, that shine hitting me harder than anything else has this morning. And for half a second—I think I fucked this up. Think I pushed too fast. Said it too soon. Took something that should’ve been perfect and made it… wrong.
“Maddie—”
I don’t get anything else out. She’s moving before I can. Up on her toes, her hands gripping my shirt as she kisses me, not soft, not hesitant—sure. Certain. Like she’s answering me in the only way she knows how.
My hands tighten on her instantly, pulling her closer, holding her there as I kiss her back, the tension that hit my chest disappearing just as fast as it came.
When she pulls back, she doesn’t go far.
Her forehead rests lightly against mine, her lips still curved, her eyes still wet but different now. Brighter.
“I love you too,” she whispers. And just like that—everything settles. Right where it belongs.