Chapter 52
luna
It was embarrassingly easy to forgive him. To let him step right back into my life like he’d never been gone. Four months apart had stretched like years, each day a slow, suffocating burn, but the second I saw him . . . it was like no time had passed at all.
I told myself I should be angry, that I should make him work for it and prove he deserved a place in my life again. The truth was, I’d been living on half a heartbeat without him. When he was standing in front of me again, all that anger I thought I’d been holding onto . . . dissolved.
I knew what it felt like to be without him, and I’d rather risk getting hurt all over again than go back to that hollow space he’d left behind.
I laced my fingers through Jer’s, my other hand finding Dirks’s as I guided them down the hall. There was a steadiness in having them both beside me.
I looked at Dirks. “Open.”
He arched a brow, but pushed the door open anyway, stepping into the cool night air.
He turned his head slowly, taking it all in. “Wow.”
The rooftop pool glittered under strings of warm lights, but it wasn’t just the view—it was everything we’d done to transform it.
The Chicago Ravens’s black and red bled into every detail: banners draped along the railings, cocktail tables wrapped in satin, centerpieces shaped like miniature hockey sticks and pucks.
The water reflected it all back like a mirror, and the skyline rose up behind it.
“Thank you so much,” Dirks breathed.
“Congrats,” Jer added with a smirk, leaning in to nudge him.
I smiled, pulling them both close and pressing a kiss to each of their lips, tasting the shared grin between us.
The door swung open behind us as people filed in—teammates, friends, staff, all of them buzzing with energy.
I made a point to keep Jer’s hand locked in mine, brushing my thumb over his knuckles every so often.
Every time I glanced at him, he gave me that small, knowing look, the one that said he was fine.
He even seemed at ease, greeting half the room like he’d never left—most of them were old teammates, after all.
I was mid-conversation with someone from the training staff when a woman I didn’t recognize walked straight toward me, a camera hanging from her neck.
“I’m doing some press for the team. Can I get a photo of the famous yoga superstar Luna and her . . . boyfriend?”
I looked over at Jer, raising a brow. He gave me the smallest nod.
“Yes, of course, but I need to get my other boyfriend, too.”
She lowered her camera slightly. “Your . . . other . . . boyfriend?”
I grinned and jogged across the room, looping my arm through Dirks’s and tugging him toward us.
“Uhhh—” The poor girl’s face was a mix of polite confusion and panic. “Sorry, what do I . . . um . . . say in the caption?”
I laughed, unable to help it. “That I’m Luna Pierson and these are my two boyfriends—Dirks and Jeremy.”
“Two?”
“Yup.”
Dirks slid his arm around my waist, pulling me snug against him, while I tugged Jer close on the other side.
“Well . . . are you going to take the photo?”
The girl blinked, nodded quickly, and snapped it before practically fleeing to the next group.
I turned to Jer, still holding his hand. “You’ll let me be your girlfriend?”
Dirks barked out a laugh.
Jer rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath, “Of course . . . like you were ever anything else.” But the corner of his mouth tugged upward, and I caught the way his fingers tightened just slightly around mine.
Austin stepped into the party, and Dirks’s gaze followed mine. “Hey, you wanna go get a bite from the buffet?”
Jer shook his head. “Nah . . . if it’s okay with you, can I try to talk to him?”
I looked up at him, a little stunned. There was so much change in his face—resolve layered over fear. The kind I understood, because we were never permanent. Not as foster kids.
I was lucky. I’d found Nova and her mom, who had practically adopted me, wrapped me into a family I could trust. Jer never had that. He only had Arthur, and Arthur was . . . well, not the kind of man anyone should look up to.
So seeing him want to try—want to bridge something with Austin—hit me hard.
“W-will you come?”
“Of course.”
We moved together, still hand in hand, crossing the room toward where Austin stood with Ledger and Charlie. Nova and Ollie spotted us halfway there and drifted over to join us.
“Sorry,” Jer and Austin blurted out at the exact same time.
They both stopped, a ghost of an awkward smile passing between them before Jer cleared his throat. “I-I’m sorry for coming. I shouldn’t have just shown up.”
I stepped in before Austin could answer. “I invited him. I thought it would be okay, but I can see now I probably put you both in an awkward position.”
Austin’s eyes softened just a fraction, his hands in his pockets. “Yeah . . . maybe a little. But . . . thanks for saying that.”
Jer shifted his weight, his eyes never leaving Austin’s. “I’ve been sober for a while now . . . been going to meetings. Getting help.”
“Me too. It’s . . . not easy.”
“No, it’s not, but I’m sorry. For everything I did back then.”
“Yeah . . . me, too.” Austin glanced toward the woman beside him. “This is my wife, Charlie.”
She stepped forward with a small smile. “Hi . . . and I’m sorry, too. For the way things went down.”
Jer gave her a small nod. “Thanks.”
Ledger, who’d been hanging back, stepped forward. “I’m glad to see you sober, man. Dirks has mentioned you might want to help out at the camp.”
My eyebrows furrowed as I looked up at Jer. “You do?”
Jer’s shoulders lifted in a half shrug, like he hadn’t planned on talking about it yet.
“You didn’t know?” Nova chimed in as she came up beside me, Ollie right behind her.
“No . . . I had no idea.”
Jer glanced down at me, a little sheepish. “I texted Dirks a few times to see if maybe we could chat about a new job. I’m tired of working where I am.”
The conversation around us kept moving—Ledger saying something to Austin, Nova introducing Ollie—but my mind stayed locked on Jer’s words, on the fact that he’d reached out, that he was thinking about a future that didn’t involve running from his past.
I knew it wasn’t embarrassing that I’d forgiven him so quickly.
It wasn’t weakness, or desperation, or some reckless, love-drunk choice.
It was because I loved him. Because even after the distance, even after the hurt, I saw him—not the mess he’d been, but the man standing in front of me now, trying.
That was what true love really was—knowing someone’s worst, and still believing in their best.