My stomach does an unnecessary flip because we’re almost always at my place—it’s closer to the rink. Rhodes’ house is the one that still feels slightly off-limits, like I’m crossing some invisible line he’s never actually drawn. He’s been trying to be so good with my boundaries and staying where I’m most comfortable. It’ll be nice to live in Rhodes-land for a night.
I grab my candy, takeout, and a bottle of nail polish just in case—I can’t rule out the possibility that Rhodes would let me paint his nails if I pushed hard enough. Imentally note what sexual favors I’d be willing to trade for him to match toenail colors with me.
I braid my hair quickly, adding a little blush to my cheeks, a swipe of lip gloss. My oversized T-shirt and leggings will have to do. Rhodes won’t care, which is extra nice.
I’m ready by the time his knock lands against my door.
When I open it, Rhodes is grinning. Too much. Like, weirdly grinning?
“Ready, Abrams?”
I narrow my eyes. “Your vibe is giving serial killer, McKnight.”
He huffs a laugh, but there’s something buzzy in the way he rocks back on his heels.
“Sorry, just excited.”
“About…” I glance down at my hands, holding candy, takeout, and a face mask that I now suspect will remain unused. “Movie night?”
His weight shifts. He’s practically vibrating. “Yeah. Movie night.”
I squint. “Yup. Weird vibes. How much pre-workout did you take? You did not burn it all off.”
“Just get in the car, Monroe.”
I cross my arms, tapping a finger against my elbow. “So you can take me to a second location? I know better than that.”
Rhodes snorts, exasperated, pushing me gently toward his car. “Killing you is not on my priority list tonight, Monroe. There are other things I’d like to do.”
I settle into my seat and lift a brow at him when he gets in on his side. “I don’t know,” I say lightly. “You might be playing the long game.”
Rhodes goes very still for a beat, his fingers flexing around the steering wheel. Then he turns his head and stares at me, something unreadable flashing in his navy-blue eyes.
When he finally speaks, his voice is lower, quieter—too deliberate to be playful.
“Yeah, that part is true, at least.”
I blink. We’ve just spoken a lot about serial killers. “Which part?”
He pulls out of the parking spot, gaze fixed on the road, mouth twitching like he’s fighting a smirk. “I’m definitely playing the long game.”
I sit back, no words coming to mind to fill the silence in the car. Would now be a good time to tell him I referred to him as my boyfriend in my head today?
We pull up to his house, and the only light glowing is the soft porch light above the door. I love his place. It’s the kind of house that feels lived in, but cared for. Rhodes mentioned he did a lot of the work himself, and you can tell—there’s love stitched into every part of it, like he built it with a future in mind.
I can see him here with a family someday—if that’s what he wants. He’d be an amazing dad, if the way he interacts with the clinic kids is any indication at all. The house has a big yard, enough space to grow, and is tastefully updated but not sterile. It feels like home in a way I’ve never had. An angry twinge pulls in my chest at the idea of someone else being here with him one day.
I shove that thought deep down, for another day. I barely got pastboyfriendin my head, and I haven’t even said the word out loud yet.
Rhodes turns the key in the lock and pushes the door open, reaching back for my hand without looking, likeit’s second nature now. His love language, remember? He guides me inside, flicking on the light in the hall, pulling me to the living room.
There is a sound coming from the living room and I look at Rhodes in alarm. And before I can register what’s happening, there is a flurry of rapid movement and an overhead light is flicked on revealing a room full of people yelling, “Surprise!” at me.
I startle, freezing in place. Rhodes is behind me, solid and anchoring me in place, his arms wrapping around my waist as he presses a kiss to my temple.
“Happy birthday, Monroe.”
His boys are all here. Finn, Beck, JD, Callum, Tyler—all wearing stupid grins, looking proud of themselves. A girl I don’t recognize stands in the center, arms crossed over her chest, dark brown hair and even darker eyes locked on me. She’s very small—maybe five foot even.