Page 134 of A Major Puck Up

I sigh and close my eyes. So many things remain uncertain. So many obstacles still stand in the way. But Gavin is right. One thing remains true: I am his, and as long as he’ll have me, I’m not going anywhere.

FORTY-EIGHT

GAVIN

Life didn’t miraculously change the moment we came together and decided this was it for us. In fact, less than two hours after we finally drifted off, reality hit in the form of a baby’s cry. Only tonight, that meant that while Millie went to comfort Vivi, I made the bottle, and then we sat on the couch together, my arm wrapped around Millie while she fed our girl.

Once she was down again, we went back to our shared bed, snuggled, and slept until my alarm went off.

“You sure you don’t want to meet me for lunch?”

Millie smiles at me over a cup of coffee. She’s still got my Bolts Stanley Cup shirt on, but her bare legs have me wanting to drop to my knees in front of her in the kitchen and eat her for breakfast.

She smiles up at me, coffee mug in hand. “I have plans.”

I press a kiss to the side of her neck. “What kind of plans?” I ask, rubbing my nose along the sensitive skin below her ear. Then, because I’m a jealous prick, I add, “Better not be with Camden.”

Goose bumps erupt down her arms, and her laugh is breathy. “He’ll be at practice with you, dummy.”

I glower, which makes her laugh harder. Behind me, Vivi gurgles in response, laughing right along with her from her highchair.

“And I wouldn’t be with him anyway. I told you, we were just friends. Besides, I’m a taken woman.”

“Damn right you are. And tell me this, who are you taken with?” I brush my nose against her neck again, getting lost beneath her curls.

“This really hot dad. We call him Hockey Daddy.”

With a grunt, I nip at her neck. “No one is calling me Hockey Daddy.”

She shakes with quiet laughter. “Lennox does.”

“Lennox is a troublemaker.”

“That’s so accurate.”

“Enough distracting me,” I say, pulling back and smoothing a hand along Vivi’s head. “What are you doing today?”

Catching her lip between her teeth, she sobers and settles her coffee cup on the counter. “Lake is coming over to hear some of my songs.”

“Really?” I step closer and grasp her arms.

Pensive, she worries that lip and dips her chin, avoiding my gaze. “Is that all right? I probably should have asked whether if it’s okay to use your piano.”

I tilt her chin up so she’s forced to look at me when I speak these next words. “Your piano.”

Her face is lined with confusion as she searches my eyes.

“I bought it for you.”

“For me?” she asks, splaying a hand over her heart. “But we weren’t together. In fact, I’m pretty sure you hated me when you moved into this apartment.” She looks around as if the room will agree with her, like the walls will tell her I was toasting her absence on move-in day.

“I hated that I couldn’t have you. Hated that you were hurting so much and I couldn’t fix it. Hated that I walked away from you when I maybe should have just held on tighter. But hated you?” I shake my head. “Never.”

Her golden eyes well with tears as her throat works, like she’s trying to swallow back the emotion.

I kiss her forehead. Fuck, I hate when she’s sad. “And when the interior decorator asked for the must-haves in the apartment, the first thing on the list was the piano. A grand piano, to be exact.”

“Why?” she whispers.

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