Page 76 of Pucks and Coffee

Everyone grunts in agreement, high-fiving one another. And I’m not gonna lie. I geek out a bit when Aiden Brooks high-fives me like we’re cool. Excitement courses through me as I head down the hall that leads to the ice. I’ve done this many times in the Knoxville arena, but already, I know this is different. The air is full of electricity, the chant of “Let’s Go Assassins!” clap, clap, clap-clap-clap is already loud and clear from the fans, and I do everything in my power to ignore the nervousness in my gut.

When the nod comes from the bench attendant, I take off onto the ice, and the crowd cheers me on as I do my lap to welcome myself to the NHL. I think it’s special that the organization does this for their rookies, and I feel myself getting emotional. But on my second lap, I see my wife. I come to a stop, my jaw going slack at how gorgeous she is. She stands by the penalty box in her number 71 Katz Assassins jersey and has a bright grin on her sweet face. In her hand is a white poster board that reads: This is your moment. Live it. I’m so proud of you. Congratulations. Love, your wife.

It takes everything in me to keep my emotions at bay when our eyes meet.

Fucking hell, I do love her.

She is perfect. She is there for me. Cares for me. Always there to lift me up, even when I feel like I’m not worth it. She is what is right in this world. Or better yet, in my world. She makes my world right. Beautiful. Full of sunshine and rainbows, because when I look at her, that’s what I see. Which is really fucking corny, but hell, I don’t care. I love her. I love her eyes, her smile, her nose. I love how compact she is and wish I could just keep her in my pocket.

I love her. All of her.

And I need her to know right now. While it’s not ideal to scream it through a thick piece of glass, I have to tell her. My eyes burn with unshed tears as I skate toward her while she beams at me. But before I can reach her, a large body stops in front of me. The body of the man whose wife had my cock in her mouth. I meet a pair of dark-brown eyes that are narrowed and full of vengeance. Willis Barnes’s dark-brown hair is long and touching his shoulders, his seafoam-green Kraken helmet hanging haphazardly on his head as he pins me with a look. My stomach clenches, my heart thumps in my chest, but I don’t back down, nor do I cower away. I’m tired of letting people steal my happiness.

Instead, I nod. “Barnes.”

“Katz,” he mimics, his voice so full of fury.

We just stare at each other, and finally, my annoyance bubbles over. I refuse to let this dude ruin my moment. “Well, good luck. Excuse me.”

“You can’t even apologize, can you?” he snaps at me, grabbing my arm. I look to where he holds my bicep and then to his eyes. He must see the warning in my eyes because he lets me go. “You almost ruined my marriage.”

I shake my head. “No. I played a part in it, and for that, I’m sorry. I told you that many times in the weeks after you found me with her, and I am truly sorry. But it takes two to tango. I don’t have any ill will toward you or your wife. I’m just trying to live my own life with my own wife and not let what happened dictate my future. It was unfortunate and I regret it, but it’s in the past.”

Wow. I’m proud of myself for that. Shit, I even feel as confident as I sound. I think the adults call this growth.

“I still live with it daily,” he snaps, his eyes almost in slits. “Knowing you touched her?—”

“Dude, don’t do this,” I practically beg. “This isn’t the time or place, and we’ve already had this argument. I let you tear me apart. You didn’t even listen when I told you I didn’t sleep with her. Hell, I didn’t even kiss her. I know this is hard, and I can’t imagine my wife betraying me the way yours did with my help. But please, let it go. I’m here to play hockey, and that’s it.”

Barnes’s eyes burn into mine. “Fuck you, you piece of shit.”

I nod. “Here in Tennessee, we say, ‘Bless your heart.’ And I mean it. Bless you. But this is the last time we’re having this conversation.” I hope my voice holds the warning it needs to, but I fully expect him to take cheap shots all night. Jackass. He skates off, and all I can do is shrug. That went as well as I assumed it would.

With his presence gone, my wife is watching me, her brow furrowed and her lips pressed together in apprehension. She’s not smiling how I want her to. Great, she’s worried about me. I hate when she worries about me.

I see her move her mouth, asking, “Are you okay?”

I can’t hear her, but I know that’s what she said. I nod. “Fine.”

She smiles tentatively, and then Louisa taps her, pointing to the side and drawing Eliza’s gaze away.

While the words are right there, just for her, I hold back. I’ll tell her after the game when we celebrate an Assassins win. Maybe even a goal from me.

But telling my wife that I love her is the only goal on my mind.

CHAPTER 40

Eliza

Austen squeezes me close to her side, and warmth spreads throughout me.

Oh, how I miss her.

Even though I’m technically her older sister, she cuddles me like our roles are reversed and I’m the baby sister. I really don’t know where my height went. All my sisters are normal except me, and they treat me like I’m the baby of the group. I don’t mind, though. I squeeze her back, missing the feel of my sister in my arms.

It hasn’t been easy living apart from her since her move to Nashville, though I would never say that. My sister looks the happiest she’s ever been in her life, and I know it’s all Dimitri Titov. He loves my sister hard, and I couldn’t be more thankful for the Russian stallion. He saved her when we didn’t even know she needed saving. We all thought we were healed…ish, but it took Dimitri’s love to complete my sister.

Just as I know Coleson’s love is the missing piece in my life story. God, the way he looked at me when he saw my sign. I plan to frame it for the house, hopefully with a puck from when he scores. I adore him.

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