Page 8 of Puck Me at Midnight

He steps closer, and I stand, suddenly hyperaware of how close we are. His eyes search mine, and for a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me again.

But he doesn’t. He steps back, breaking the spell. “I should let you get some rest,” he says, his voice low.

“Goodnight, Spike,” I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Night, Emma.”

As he disappears down the hallway, I sink back onto the couch, my heart racing. This tension between us is going to be the death of me. And yet, I never want it to end.

Later, as I’m cleaning up the kitchen, an idea takes root. Maybe it’s time to take the boys to a game. Charlie’s always asking what Spike does when he’s gone, and maybe seeing him on the ice will help him understand. Sam might explode with excitement at the idea of going to an actual hockey game.

Chapter Seven

Spike

I’m not normally the type of guy who lets feelings get in the way of my goals. My focus has always been the same: hockey first, everything else second. It’s how I’ve made it this far, how I’ve kept my head above water these past months. But lately, it’s harder to stick to that order. Because every time I look at Emma, I feel something that scares the hell out of me.

She’s more than I expected. More than I deserve. And that kiss on New Year’s Eve? That was a mistake. A damn good mistake, but a mistake all the same. I can’t let myself go there again. Not with her. Not when the boys are involved. They need stability, and Emma’s been that and more. I won’t risk screwing it up by letting my feelings get in the way.

I need to focus on hockey and the boys. The season’s in full swing, and we’ve got a long road ahead. I can deal with everything else when it’s over. That’s the game plan.

The locker room’s buzzing with energy as I lace up my skates. Simon’s giving Viktor a hard time about his pre-game rituals while Ryan trying to mediate with that calm, dad-energy he’s got going on these days.

“Hey, Spike,” Simon calls out, leaning against the bench. “You’ve been awfully quiet lately. Got something on your mind, or is that just the way your face normally looks?”

“It’s my game face, jackass,” I reply, keeping my tone even. I’ve been around these guys long enough to know that any hint of personal stuff will get picked apart like a carcass in the desert.

“Sure, sure,” Simon says, grinning. “Or maybe you’re thinking about that pretty nanny of yours. What’s her name again? Emma?”

“Drop it,” I warn, but it only makes him laugh.

“Oh, come on. We all see the way you change when you get a text from her during practice. You can say it’s about the boys, but it didn’t fire up until the new nanny started. You’re not fooling anyone, Spike.”

“Leave it alone,” Ryan says, stepping in before I can snap back. “Let the man focus. We’ve got a game to win.”

“Fine, fine,” Simon relents, holding up his hands. “But if you ever need advice, you know where to find me.”

I shake my head, but I’m grateful for the distraction. He’s not wrong. Emma’s been on my mind more than she should be. I just have to remember—hockey first. Everything else can wait.

By the time we hit the ice, I’ve managed to push all thoughts of Emma to the back of my mind. The game is what matters right now and I’ve got a job to do. The crowd’s roaring, the adrenaline’s pumping, and for a few hours, it’s just me, my team, and the ice.

But then, during a timeout, I glance toward the stands and see them. Emma is sitting with the other family members, Sam on her lap and Charlie beside her, bouncing with excitement. My chest tightens, and for a moment, I forget to breathe. They’re here. She brought them.

“Hey, Spike,” Duke says, nudging me. “You good?”

“Yeah,” I say, shaking it off. “Let’s finish this.”

The rest of the game passes in a blur, and when the final buzzer sounds, we’ve secured the win. I skate off the ice, myheart pounding, and not because of the game. I’ve never been so eager to get into the locker room and out of my gear.

The locker room is buzzing with post-game energy. We won, and it wasn’t just a win—it was the kind of game that reminds me why I love hockey. But my mind’s not fully on the victory. It’s on Emma and the boys. Seeing them in the stands tonight was like a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart. Knowing they were there, cheering me on, made everything sharper, better.

I lean back against my locker, unwrapping the tape from my wrists. The guys are still riding the high, loud and obnoxious as usual.

“So, Spike,” Duke drawls, tossing his gloves into his bag. “Your little fan club seemed pretty into the game tonight.”

I roll my eyes but can’t help the grin tugging at my lips. “Shut up, Duke.”

“I’m serious,” he says, smirking. “Emma looked like she was having a good time with the other WAGs. Getting pretty cozy, huh?”

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