Page 177 of From Now On

I drape an arm over the back of her chair, playing with the ends of her hair. “I’m here now.”

She tilts her head, holding eye contact. “And from now on?”

“Yeah. From now on.” I lean closer, sealing the promise with a kiss.

The best is still ahead.

THE END

Except I wasn’t ready to leave the Holt Hockey world, so I wrote a final chapter from Harlow’s point of view. If you haven’t read Famous Last Words yet, I strongly suggest doing so before continuing!

THE FINAL CHAPTER

HARLOW

“It’shuge,” I state, stunned.

Conor scratches his jaw. It’s strange seeing him cleanshaven after six weeks with a beard. “I know.”

“It looked smaller in the photo you sent.”

“I know,” he repeats.

“It’s…nice?”

Conor rolls his head to look at me. “That’s the best you can come up with, Hayes?Nice?”

“Noticeable?” I try.

He snorts.

“It’s notbad, it’s just…big.”

“I have to ask.” Aidan’s amused voice booms through the car speakers. “What thefuckare you guys talking about? Because it fucking sounds like you’re?—”

“Language, Aidan,” Rylan hisses in the background. “Or do youwantyour daughter’s first word to be a swear?”

“I mean, that’d be fun?—”

“Aidan!”

“I don’t, I don’t,” Aidan says hastily. “That’d be funny buthighlyinappropriate. Bennett will have to learn how to expressherself like a proper lady who doesn’t have a bar owner for a dad and a hockey coach for a grandfather.”

Conor’s chuckle reminds Aidan he’s on speakerphone with us.

“How close are you guys? We’re just—oh, I see your car. I’ll park—oh. That’s what you guys were… Holyshit, Hart.”

Rylan doesn’t chastise Aidan for swearing this time. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s too busy staring at the same sight my eyes have been fixed on since Conor parked our rented sedan in the parking lot.

The massive, brand-new building in front of us is called The Conor Hart Hockey Arena. A thoughtful gesture to acknowledge Holt’s legendary player and a thanks for the generous donation he made toward the rink’s construction. Also, a tribute you couldn’t miss from outer space.

There’s a click as the call disconnects, and then I see Aidan climb out of a black minivan a few spots over from us. He gapes up at the towering letters for a few seconds before glancing this way and flashing Conor a double thumbs-up.

Conor sighs. “We could have been relaxing on the Amalfi Coast right now. You’d be slathered with sunscreen and wearing that blue bikini and—seriously? How does Phillips have a babyandthat much energy?”

Aidan’s walked over to the front of the building—little Bennett strapped to his chest with a carrier—excitedly waving his arms around like he’s an air traffic controller.

“Dunno. We should ask him for some parenting tips. Come on.” I whack Conor’s rock-solid bicep with the back of my hand and immediately regret it. My knuckles are still stinging when I pop open the car door. “It’s not even raining out.”

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