Chapter 26 Boone
I’m riding a high from my game.
To be fair, I’m always on a high after a win, but tonight felt different.
All our recent games have been away, and I’ve been missing Rosie’s presence in the crowd. But being back home, with the roar of our city’s fans and Rosie’s eyes on me, it was like I could hear her calling my name over the chaos.
I was performing for her again, and it reignited something deep inside me—a love for hockey I didn’t even realize had dulled.
Plus, I’ve been a good boy.
Two whole weeks of keeping my hands to myself since that talk we had in her living room and surprisingly, it’s been easier than I expected, mostly thanks to our brutal travel and practice schedule, but still—I deserve some credit.
I’ve avoided mentioning her during post-game interviews as much as I could, though keeping a straight face when I think about her is nearly impossible.
And okay, maybe I shouldn’t have sniffed my wedding band while on camera, the thing I miss the most when I’m on the ice other than her. But when I think of her, I want her.
And if the only way I can get a taste of her is off my ring, then that’s what I’ll take.
Of course, if anyone caught it, it’d be Rosie. And judging by the flush in her cheeks when I finally spot her waiting outside of the tunnel, I know she did.
I’d be lying if I wasn’t pleased.
My gaze drags over her petite frame like a man hungry for food.
She’s wearing one of my jerseys again. The thing falls to mid-thigh, and she’s turned it into a dress with a belt cinched at her waist. My last name is bold on the back, and our team logo stretches across the front.
I know instantly which jersey it is too. It’s one she had to have taken from my closet which means she was in my bedroom when I wasn’t home.
I like that too.
The long sleeves bunch adorably around her wrists, her gaudy wedding band gleams under the fluorescent lights, and those knee-high black boots with heels that she’s wearing are doing wonders for her toned thighs.
I wonder how it'd feel to have them wrapped around my hips squeezing, her digging the heel of her shoes into my back while I fucked her. It’s getting more difficult to resist doing that. A man can only hold back for so long.
She looks so damn pretty I want to kiss her in public. Hell, I want to pin her against the nearest wall and fuck her for everyone to see. I want to consummate this goddamn marriage already.
But I’ve been good. I need to have just a little more patience.
“You’re beautiful,” I tell her.
She blushes, and just like that, I’ve broken my streak of not coming onto her. Dammit. Fuck if I care.
I sling an arm around her shoulders in the way I always do when we’re leaving the stadium, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “We’re not going to dinner tonight.”
Her brows furrow. “Oh… do you have to meet with a sponsor?”
I shake my head but I’m smiling. “Nope. But I’ve got something better in mind.”
We step out of the stadium, cameras already flashing in our direction. The frenzy is immediate and blinding, but I pull her tighter against my side to protect her from any stray bodies and flag down a cab, opening the door and tucking her inside before sliding in after her.
In the brief silence of the vehicle, she turns to me, her wide eyes full of curiosity. “What’s going on? We were supposed to make an appearance at dinner tonight.”
I can’t help but smile. “I think what just happened counts.”
“I don’t know…” she starts hesitantly.
“We’re spending the weekend in Brookhaven together.”
“Together?” she repeats, her voice full of surprise. I catch the nervous edge in her tone, but there’s a thread of excitement there too. And that’s what I’m going to latch onto.
“Yeah. Court’s next week, so Cain told me to come back with you because of the storm we're getting in the event everything shuts down. I figured I’d go over my notes with him tomorrow, but tonight I have a surprise for you.” I take a deep breath, feeling nervous. “I’m taking you ice skating.”
Her eyes widen. “Skating?”
I nod, grinning at her harder. “On the lake behind your house. Have you ever been?”
She shakes her head, but her face lights up like I just handed her the moon.
“I mean, it’s been years. Our dad took us a few times when we were kids to the Rockefeller Center, but I’ve never done it on a lake before.
I heard it can be more dangerous with all the bumps and grooves that freeze naturally. ”
“It can be,” I admit, my smile softening. “But I’ll be there to catch you if you fall. It’s how I learned how to skate when I was a kid out on the pond at my parent’s logging farm.”
“Okay… But I don’t have ice skates.”
I brush her off with a shrug. “I bought you some.”
“You... How’d you even know my size?”
“Checked your closet when we were there together a month ago.”
Her mouth falls open in surprise. “You… you…” before shaking her head, clearly at a loss. She turns to look out the window instead, but I catch the small smile that’s tugging at the corner of her lips. This was a good decision. I haven’t fucked it up yet.
Satisfied, I lean back in my seat as the cab makes the short drive to the train station. When we stop, I hop out, opening her door and grabbing both my bag and hers.
“You know, you constantly surprise me, Boone,” she says, a grin spreading across her face as I press a hand to her lower back and guide us toward the train platform.
“My mom told me that’s the key to a successful marriage,” I whisper in her ear, helping her through the gate. She laughs easily.
That isn’t a lie, and the truth is that I’ll take all the marital advice I can get to make this work.
◆◆◆
Two hours later, we’re back in Brookhaven, finishing up a simple dinner in her cozy living room surrounded by unopened boxes and the dark, moonlit view from outside her windows.
Pizza wasn’t the grand gesture I’d hoped for, but I didn’t have the foresight to cook or order something fancier. And the only restaurant in Brookhaven, Brookhaven Brews, closed early tonight due to the coming storm.
Thankfully, Rosie doesn’t seem to care. She’s sprawled out on the floor, her legs crossed, her head thrown back as she laughs at a story that I just finished telling her about some of my younger, wilder years in the league when I was just a rookie, living with Lochlan and Ty.
She’s wearing nothing but a pair of dark black sweatpants and my jersey, which still hangs loosely on her frame like a blanket. I’m glad she kept it on. She looks good in it. And I’m even happier she’s stuck to my “rule” of only wearing my jersey to my games.
I consider whether I should wash it before I wear it next and decide I won't be doing that anytime soon. In fact, she can just keep it. It looks better on her anyway.
“So,” she says, wiping her mouth delicately with a napkin before standing to gather our empty plates, “the snow is really coming down out there. Are you sure we can skate?”
“I’m confident,” I reply, flashing her a cocky grin. “Unless you’re scared and want to back out?”
She crosses her arms over her chest, giving me a look that says she’s already accepted the challenge. “Never.”
I chuckle and move to my bag, pulling out the box with her new skates. They’re purple—my favorite color on her—and when I hand them over, her face lights up as she takes them out, turning them over in her hands.
“They’re perfect,” she says softly, her voice full of genuine appreciation. “No one’s ever bought me a gift so… thoughtful before.”
Fuck those other guys.
“Well,” I say, retrieving my own skates, “put on a warmer coat and some thicker socks with a hat. I’ll meet you down by the pier.”
“Okay.” She nods and heads upstairs to get ready while I clean up the rest of the trash we've created before slipping outside.
Rosie’s home has a deck that leads down to a long, wooden pier, much like the other houses that surround the lake, most of which have docks for boats in the warmer months. From what I’ve learned, Brookhaven was started as a blue-collar town where most of the inhabitants were fishers.
And I get it. Because the views are immaculate. Out here, it’s nothing but quiet—serene in the way only the country can be, especially with the fresh snow blanketing everything. The moon stretches over the frozen lake, casting a silvery glow on the ice and everything is… still.
It feels like stepping back in time, like being a kid again, skating on the frozen pond at my parents’ house. Hours spent practicing stupid tricks that, looking back now, might’ve been reckless, but those tricks have saved me from more than one career-ending injury on the ice.
You learn to fall right, twist right, land on your ass right, and it comes in handy when you get catapulted against a wall during a game.
The whole scene that's stretched before me—the snow, the frozen lake, the twinkling of lights from the other homes that surround the lake and their backyards, the peacefulness of it all—makes me think about the future.
This town, this life... I could see myself here after I retire, living somewhere like this, where everyone knows everybody and neighbors actually care for each other.
And maybe... Rosie could see me living here too. With her.
I make it to the end of the dock before crouching down to remove my shoes, tugging on my skates and lacing them up tightly. Then I folder my arms over my knees and just watch the cold, winter sky.
The faint crunch of snow behind me gives her away before her scent does—roses, her favorite, soft and sweet.
I glance over my shoulder and there she is, bundled up in a huge puffy coat that stretches down to her kneecaps. The black sweatpants are still on, with the neckline of my jersey peeking out underneath, just visible enough to make my chest tighten.
A white knit hat with a little pom-pom sits snugly on her head, trapping the top of her golden hair. She’s got matching knit mittens on her hands and her cheeks are flushed pink from the cold.
“Hi,” she says softly, her breath coming out in a tiny puff of smoke in the frozen air. “At least the snow’s let up.”
Something about tonight, the way it wraps us in quiet and shadows, makes me reach for her. I pull her into a hug, telling myself it’s just friendly. But the way she melts into me, her body soft and warm against mine, tells me she needed my touch as much as I needed hers.
“Let me get out on the ice first,” I say softly, reluctant to let her go but knowing that I need to. “I’ll make sure it’s solid, though I doubt it’ll be a problem.”
She nods and steps back, smiling up at me as she drops into the snow to pull on her skates. “Sure. Let me know, Tremblay.”
I snort, shaking my head as I hobble to the edge of the lake. With a solid pound of my skate against the ice, I test it, satisfied when there’s no give.
Confident, I step out and take off. The cold air bites at my face as I glide across the frozen surface. There’s no sound out here but the satisfying scrape of my skates making fresh lines across the glassy surface.
The wind we’ve had lately has kept the snow from piling too deeply, which makes this even better. Deep snow can hide cracks or slush and make things more dangerous.
“We’ll stick to the parts that aren’t covered in snow,” my voice calls out to where she’s standing, waiting.
The ice feels good beneath my blades, solid and steady.
And even though I've been skating all night and should probably give my legs a rest, this is where I feel the most at home.
I wonder if this is how professional swimmers feel every time they enter the ocean.
As if they are returning to the place where their soul was born.
I sweep the snow aside with every stroke of my skates, clearing patches as I go and checking for sticks or rocks. The natural grooves from the way the lake froze are visible, but nothing that looks or feels concerning to me. And with Rosie’s grace and balance as a trained ballerina, she’ll be fine.
Reaching the center, I spin around and skate backward, my eyes locked on her the entire way. When her gaze lifts to meet mine, I motion her forward.
“Come on out, it’s good.”