Page 47 of Snowed In With the PUCK

The picture we posted yesterday of our Christmas morning together has been shared and liked thousands of times. Fans are commenting on how cute we are together, how happy we look, and, of course, how it’s about time Eric found someone. There are even a few comments hinting at wedding bells in the future.

Wedding bells?

I nearly choke on my own breath when I read that one. We’ve barely been real for more than a day, and people are already talking about marriage?

I glance up from my phone to watch Eric again, catching the way he grins at one of the kids who just scored a goal. He’s so in his element out there, and for a moment, I forget all about the media, the rumors, the pressure. It’s just him doing what he loves. And me, sitting here, loving him for it.

The thought hits me like a freight train.

Loving him.

I blink, staring down at my hands as I try to process it. Am I really falling for him? Or has it already happened, somewhere along the way, without me even realizing it?

Eric skates over to me, still laughing with a few of the kids who are lined up by the boards. He’s got that on-ice glow, his cheeks flushed, his hair slightly damp from the helmet, and when he looks at me, there’s something soft in his eyes.

“Enjoying the show?” he asks, leaning on the boards next to me.

I nod, unable to hide the smile that spreads across my face. “Yeah. You are amazing with them.”

He grins, glancing back at the ice. “They are the amazing ones. I just showed up.”

I smile, but I know he’s being humble. He’s the one they’re going to remember, the one they’ll talk about for years to come. And I can’t help but feel proud, not just because he’s great at what he does, but because I know the man underneath it all. The one who’s kind, who’s thoughtful, who’s been through his own struggles and come out stronger.

“Eric! Jessica! Can we get a comment on your relationship? What’s next for you two?” a reporter calls out, seeing Eric pausing by me before heading back out onto center ice.

“And Jessica, how do you feel about all the fans rooting for a wedding in the future?” another one says.

I glance at Eric, my heart pounding. His gloved hand slips over mine, and he gives me a reassuring look. Then he skates off, not answering the reporter’s poorly timed questions, but I can’tshake the feeling that the world is watching us now, waiting to see what happens next.

Toward the end of the event, as the kids start to wind down and the last few families drift away from the ice, I feel a sense of calm settle over me. I’m still seated in the front row, watching Eric out on the ice as he helps a little boy lace up his skates. The way everyone here today lights up around him makes my chest feel tight in the best way possible.

Just as I’m about to stand and make my way over to him, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Jason is descending the steps, making his way toward me with that familiar, determined look on his face. My stomach tightens.

I force a smile as he approaches, reminding myself that I’m not at work right now, even if he seems to think otherwise. “Hey, Jason.”

“Jessica,” he says smoothly, sliding into the seat beside me as if we’re just old friends catching up. “How was your Christmas with the Stantons yesterday?”

I glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “It was fine. But I’ll tell you now—I’m not really in the mood to talk about work right now.”

He chuckles, leaning back slightly, his gaze following Eric out on the ice. “Oh, come on. We’re always working, aren’t we? Even at these little community events.”

I sigh, my patience thinning. “Jason, I don’t want to talk about work right now. Can’t we just enjoy the last bit of this?”

But Jason’s not one to be deterred. His voice drops slightly, becoming more serious, and I feel the shift in his demeanor. “Look, you might not want to talk about work, but you’re going to have to. Kip’s been asking for an update.”

My stomach churns. I know exactly what he’s referring to, but I’d been hoping that Kip would back off, at least for the holidays. Of course, that was wishful thinking.

“I told you I’m done spying on him, Jason,” I say quietly, not wanting to draw any attention from the others nearby. “It’s not right.”

Jason ignores my protest, leaning in closer. “Kip doesn’t care if it’s right or wrong. He doesn’t want to lose Eric, and you know as well as I do that there’s been talk of that California team coming after him. They’re throwing everything they can at him to poach him. Kip needs to know where Eric’s head is at.”

I grit my teeth, frustration bubbling up inside me. Eric has no idea that this conversation is happening, that Kip and Jason have been using me to get inside information on him. It’s bad enough that I’ve gone along with the fake relationship for the team’s image. I refuse to be some kind of spy.

“I’m not doing it, Jason,” I say firmly. “I’m not spying on him like that.”

Jason’s eyes narrow, and he lets out a low sigh, shaking his head as if I’m the one being unreasonable. “Jessica, you don’t get to decide that. Kip’s already made it clear—he wants answers, and he wants them soon. So unless you want to explain to Kip why you’re refusing to do your job, I suggest you figure something out.”

A wave of guilt washes over me, and I look away from him, my eyes finding Eric again on the ice. He’s laughing with one of the kids, his whole face lighting up in a way that makes my heart flutter. He trusts me, and here I am, being asked to betray that trust.

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