Jaylynn.
Headset snug around her ears, tablet balanced in one hand, phone pressed to the other. Her pen tucked behind her ear like she’s been born for this job. The Bucks’ PR director, commanding the chaos of the arena with sharp precision and calm fire.
And still, she feels me looking. Her gaze flicks up, just for a second, and locks with mine.
Everything else falls away.
Her lips curve in that smile. The one that says she sees me. Not just the fists. Not just the mistakes. Me.
The pile of bodies swallows me as the guys mob Jaxon and me, but that look—her look—stays burned in my chest all the way back to the locker room. I step inside and wince. The place reeks of sweat, tape, and victory. Laughter and chirps bounce off the concrete walls. Water bottles spray like champagne. Someone blasts music from a speaker. And for once, I’m not standing on the outside, half-dreading the night’s headlines. I’m in it. I belong here.
“Hey, Penn,” Brady calls, ripping tape from his pads. “You hitting Kilting Around later?”
“Can’t,” I say, tugging off my jersey. “Jaylynn’s folks and my aunt are in town. Wedding planning.” I groan dramatically, but inside, I can’t wait. I can’t wait to stand in front of everyone—her family, my team, the whole town of Snowberry if they want to show up—minus Dylan of course, and finally make her my wife. Dylan, ugh. I don’t like to take pleasure in other people’s misfortunes, but hearing he was back home, licking his wounds after getting kicked out of the mayor’s office for misappropriation of funds, made me a little happy.
Groans, whistles, chirps. Jaxon chucks a roll of tape at my head.
I duck. “Hey.”
“Look at you. Already whipped,” Nicklas says laughing.
Yeah, I am and I love it.
“Careful, Nicklas,” I warn. “You’ll get yours one of these days.”
“The only thing I’m getting is a double dose of bunnies tonight, Radman.” He flips me off and saunters to the showers. I follow and shower quickly, anxious to get outside to my big family. I pull on my jeans and a Bucks hoodie before slipping out the side door. The March night air is cool, crisp, buzzing with leftover energy from the win. Reporters hover nearby, fans press up against the barriers waving jerseys and signs, but none of it matters. Because there’s only one person I’m looking for.
Jaylynn comes running over, hair tumbling loose from her bun, headset hanging around her neck. I don’t wait. I scoop her up and spin her once, catching the laugh that bursts from her throat.
“Good game, winger,” she teases, her voice low just for me.
“Good game, PR queen.” I kiss the top of her head, breathing her in, my heart soaring with all the things I feel for her. How did I ever get so lucky?
When I set her down, I glance up, and my chest goes tight. Her family is everywhere. Her dad is ribbing Jaxon about an open net he missed in the first period, hands waving as he exaggerates the play. Her mom is deep in conversation with Aunt Elaine, both of them laughing like old friends already. Her nieces and nephews are in full chaos mode, darting around in oversized Bucks jerseys, hockey sticks made of foam whacking at each other as if the sidewalk is their own private rink.
It’s loud. It’s messy. It’s perfect.
And for the first time in my life, I know exactly where I fit.
Right here. With Jaylynn. With her family. With my aunt. With the team that finally feels like more than just sweaters and ice time.
This… this is home.
Jaylynn slips her hand into mine, her thumb brushing over my knuckles like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“Mom wants to check the country club again tomorrow,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Something about the floral arrangements clashing with the drapes.”
I groan, and she laughs.
“Stop being a Grinch. You love it,” she says and gives me a playful whack.
I do. Because it means we’re building something together.
“I thought you liked me being a Grinch,” I tease.
She rolls her eyes. “By the way,” she adds slyly. “Sloane texted me. She’s coming to the wedding.” I honestly love that the two have grown close. Behind the glitz and glamor, and the curated social media posts, Sloane turned out to be really sweet and caring, a woman who simply needed a friend. Leave it to my girl to make sure she had one. “I might introduce her to Nicklas. They’d be cute.”
I snort. “I don’t know much about matchmaking. I only know Nicklas likes the bunnies. You’ll have your work cut out for you.”