31. Maddie
Maddie
We won. I should be riding that. The noise.
The energy. The way the guys came alive in the third and didn’t let up until the final buzzer.
That’s the kind of win that sticks with you, that carries into the next game, that builds something.
Normally, I’d already be clipping it in my head.
The goal that shifted momentum. The hit that changed the pace.
The way Jake pulled the team back into it without even needing to say anything.
But tonight—none of that is what’s sitting in my chest.
Dean loves me.
The words repeat over and over, softer now than when he said them, but somehow louder too.
Like they settled somewhere deep and haven’t stopped echoing since.
I still don’t know what to do with it. Don’t know how something that big can feel this…
steady. This real. I press my lips together, staring out the window as the arena comes back into view, my reflection faint against the glass.
He said it like it wasn’t something fragile.
Like it wasn’t something that could break if I touched it wrong.
Like it was already true long before the words came out.
And I—I said it back. A small breath leaves me at that, my fingers curling slightly into the sleeve of my hoodie.
I didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. Didn’t question it. I just… felt it. And said it.
The realization settles deeper the longer I sit with it, something warm and terrifying all at once because I don’t think I can pretend this is small anymore. Not after that. Not after the way he looked at me when he said it, like there wasn’t anywhere else he’d rather be.
I want to tell someone. The thought comes quick.
Addy. Pen. Anyone who would understand how big that moment felt, how much it changed something inside me that I didn’t even realize was waiting for it.
But I can’t. Because I asked him not to.
Because I told him I needed time before the world got involved.
And suddenly that feels heavier than it did before.
Because now it’s not just something we’re keeping quiet. It’s this.
The bus slows, pulling into the arena, the shift breaking through my thoughts as the guys start moving, energy picking back up around me as we start to unload and head inside. We step off the bus, and that’s when I see them.
Penelope is standing just outside, one arm wrapped around Matty’s little body as he rests against her hip, his head tucked into her shoulder like he’s half asleep. His small hand is fisted in her shirt, legs wrapped around her as she sways slightly, instinctively soothing him.
Jake sees them immediately. Everything about him softens. He drops his bag without a second thought and walks straight to them, his entire focus shifting in a way I don’t think he could control even if he tried.
He drops a kiss to Penelope's forehead and turns to his son. “Hey, buddy,” he murmurs, his voice dropping as he reaches for him.
Matty lifts his head just enough to see him, his face lighting up in that slow, sleepy way only a two-year-old can manage. “Dada…” It’s soft. Slurred with sleep. Perfect.
Jake lets out a quiet breath like that word hits him every single time, like it never gets old, as he takes him from Penelope and pulls him into his chest, holding him close while Matty immediately melts into him.
And just like that—hockey doesn’t matter.
Nothing else does. I feel my chest tighten watching it. Because that version of him?
That’s everything. But then—
“Deano!” The shout cuts through the moment. Paxton. “I got it!” He’s a few feet away, practically bouncing, a piece of paper waving wildly in his hand like he can’t hold still long enough to keep it down.
I barely have time to turn before— “No shit!” Dean’s voice hits right behind me, loud and sharp and full of something I haven’t heard before, and I jump, my heart kicking as I realize how close he is.
But he’s already moving. Straight to Paxton.
“What?” Dean demands, but there’s already a grin breaking through, like he knows. Like he’s been waiting for this.
Paxton shoves the paper at him, barely able to get the words out fast enough. “AHL call-up. I’m going up.”
Everything stills for a second. And then Dean’s face—God. It changes. Pride hits first. Hard. Immediate. Like this matters to him just as much as it does to Paxton.
“Fuck, yes,” he says, grabbing the paper, scanning it like he needs to see it himself. “I knew it.”
Paxton laughs, running a hand through his hair, still buzzing, still not fully believing it. “I didn’t think it would happen this fast.”
“It was always going to be this fast,” Dean shoots back without hesitation, stepping in and gripping the back of his neck before pulling him into a hug that’s solid and real.
“You earned this.” Not luck. Not timing.
Him. “You go up there and you don’t play small,” Dean continues, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye.
“You make them see exactly why you’re there. ”
Paxton nods immediately, like there’s no world where he does anything else.
“Yes, Coach.”
Dean huffs, shaking his head with a small smirk. “Not Coach right now.”
That breaks the tension. Paxton laughs, loud and full, and I can’t stop watching them, the way Dean shows up like this, the way he makes moments bigger for the people around him. The way he cares.
“We’re going out,” Paxton announces suddenly, turning toward everyone like it’s already decided. “Nobody’s saying no.”
Penelope just smiles, shifting closer and wrapping one arm around her brother. “Whatever you want, Pax,” she says warmly. “You earned it.”
And standing here, watching all of it—Dean. Jake. The way this team isn’t just a team—My chest tightens again. Because I didn’t just fall for him. I fell for the man he is in every space. And somehow—that makes loving him feel even bigger than it already did.
The Reserve feels different tonight. It always has that low hum—the quiet clink of glasses, the soft music, the polished kind of atmosphere that makes everything feel a little more elevated than it should be—but tonight it’s louder.
Fuller. Packed in a way that doesn’t leave space for anything except celebration.
Dean made one call. That’s all it took. One call, and suddenly the entire back room is ours.
The team. Their wives. Girlfriends. Paxton’s friends spilling in like they don’t know what to do with all the excitement sitting under their skin.
It’s chaotic in the best way, bodies pressed closer than usual, voices overlapping, laughter bouncing off the walls.
And right in the middle of it—him. I spot Dean across the room without even trying.
He’s standing with Paxton, one hand wrapped around the back of his neck again like he’s said it a hundred times already and still means it just as much now as he did the first time.
There’s a drink in his other hand, untouched, his attention completely locked on Paxton as he talks, as he listens, as he shows up.
That’s the thing about him. He doesn’t just say the right things.
He makes people feel them. Paxton is still lit up, still riding that high, his grin wide and unfiltered in a way that makes it impossible not to feel it with him.
Every few seconds someone else claps him on the back, pulls him into a hug, tells him how proud they are.
And Dean—Dean looks just as proud as anyone in this room. Maybe more. My chest tightens slightly as I watch it, that same feeling from earlier settling deeper now, warmer, heavier in the best way.
Because this is what I fell in love with. Not just the way he looks at me. But the way he is with everyone else.
“Hey.” Addy’s voice pulls me out of it as she steps up beside me, nudging my shoulder lightly. “You’ve been staring for like… five minutes.”
I blink, my lips pulling into a small smile as I glance at her. “I have not.”
She hums, clearly not believing me, her eyes already tracking across the room to where Dean stands. “Mhm.”
I don’t argue. Because she’s not wrong. Because I don’t even realize I’m doing it half the time anymore.
My fingers curl slightly around my drink, the glass cool in my hand as I take a small sip, letting the noise of the room settle around me again.
Luka is across the room, already pulling Paxton into another conversation, his arm slung over his shoulder like he’s claiming him for the night.
Jake is near the back, Matty in his arms again, the little boy more awake now, his small hands grabbing at Jake’s shirt while Penelope stands close, her hand resting lightly on his back.
It’s loud. Full. Alive. And I feel it—that pull again.
My eyes drift back to Dean before I can stop them.
Like something in me is tied to him now in a way that doesn’t let me stay focused anywhere else for too long.
My chest tightens again, this time sharper, something building behind my ribs that I’ve been holding in all day, pushing down, telling myself I’d deal with it later.
Except now—later is here. And I can’t hold it anymore.
“Addy…” My voice comes out quieter than I mean it to, my fingers curling around the edge of the table beside me like I need something steady to hold onto.
She looks at me immediately. Really looks this time. “What?” she asks, her tone shifting, softer now, more focused.
I hesitate. Just for a second. Because I know what I’m about to say changes things. Makes it real in a way that keeping it to myself didn’t.
“You have to promise me something first,” I say, turning toward her fully now, my voice dropping even lower.
Her brows pull together slightly. “Maddie…”
“Addy, please,” I press, my hand coming up to wrap around her wrist, holding her there, making sure she understands I mean it. “You cannot say anything. To anyone. Not even Luka.”
That gets her attention. Really gets it. Her expression shifts, something serious settling in as she studies my face like she’s trying to figure out just how big this is before she answers.
“I won’t,” she says finally. “I promise.”
I swallow, my heart picking up, my gaze dropping for half a second before I force it back up to hers. “He… said it.”
Her brows crease. “Said what?”
My breath catches. “Dean told me he loves me.”
The words leave me in a rush, like I’ve been holding them in too long and they finally found a way out. For a second—she just stares at me. Like she’s making sure she heard me right.
And then her entire face lights up. “Maddie—”
“Shh,” I cut her off quickly, my hand tightening slightly on her arm, panic flickering because we are not being quiet right now.
Her eyes widen, and she immediately clamps her mouth shut, but the excitement is still there, practically vibrating under the surface.
“You love him,” she whispers instead, leaning closer so no one else hears. It’s not even a question. I let out a shaky breath, my chest tightening again in that same overwhelming way.
“Yeah,” I admit, softer now. “I do.” Saying it out loud feels different. Bigger. Real in a way that makes everything inside me shift again.
“And you didn’t tell me sooner?” she hisses quietly, her eyes narrowing just slightly, but there’s no real bite to it.
“I couldn’t,” I say, my voice breaking just a little under the weight of it. “I asked him to keep it quiet, Addy. I didn’t think it would feel like this so fast. I didn’t think it would be…”
I trail off, not even sure how to finish that. This big. This consuming. This right. Her expression softens instantly, the teasing gone, replaced with something warm and understanding.
“Okay,” she says quietly, nodding once. “Okay.” Her hand slides over mine, squeezing gently. “I won’t say anything.”
I nod, relief settling in, but it doesn’t ease everything.
Because across the room—I can still feel him. And when I glance up—he’s already looking at me. Like he knows something just changed. Like he felt it too.