Page 46 of Pucking Secret

When I don’t reply, he lets out a long sigh and murmurs, “It doesn’t matter. You’re amazing, Stacey, and you’ve done an incredible job with Millie.” He leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I should go. I don’t want Millie to wake up and find me here in the morning. It’ll just confuse her.”

Silently, I nod. A part of me wants to object and ask him to stay, but I know he’s right. It’s already so complicated between us. I don’t want to drag Millie into the middle of it. Not until I know how we move forward in a way that doesn’t totally upend her world.

Owen gives me a small smile before standing and making his way across the room to the door. He pauses at the threshold and looks back at me.

“Good night,” he says.

“Good night,” I manage to croak out.

Once he’s shut the door and left, I roll onto my back, throwing my arm over my eyes. I release a long groan.

I need to tell him, but first, I need answers from him. I have to ask him about that horrible letter and get the full story behind him leaving seven years ago. If I can get him to open up about it and be honest, maybe I can trust him enough with the truth.

Whatever I decide, I have to proceed with caution. This time around, it’s not just my heart on the line… but Millie’s, as well.

And I refuse to let anything break it.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: VICTORY

OWEN

The arena is electric,the roar of the fans filling every corner. It’s the Night Hawks' home opener—the first game of the season, and my first official game with the team. I step onto the ice, my blades cutting through the chill, and take a deep breath to try and calm my nerves.

After our night together, I’ve been focused on Stacey, though we haven’t had much time alone since she’s been taking care of Millie and I’ve been busy getting ready for tonight. Thankfully, Millie’s all better—her fever broke and her sniffles have gone away—which is a huge relief. Now I can focus on hockey and this all too important night. I’ve played this game a thousand times, but tonight I feel like I have something to prove. I need to show that I belong here. That I can stand on my own two feet and that I don’t have to do everything for my stepfather’s benefit.

Warmups go smoothly, and while my nerves are humming, I focus on the puck, my stick, and my teammates. I steal a glance to the stands though, and spot Stacey. She’s standing near the team’s bench, clipboard in hand, looking focused and polished in her formal work attire. She’s paying attention to the team, her gaze moving across the ice like she’s studying every player, butall I can see is her. That sharpness in her green eyes, that poise—it’s intoxicating.

I meet her gaze as I skate by and shoot her a grin. She smiles back and I feel a surge of satisfaction and confidence rush through me.

Then I spot Millie, in a tiny Night Hawks hoodie, tucked a few rows up next to a girl with a pink bob who I assume is a babysitter. When Millie notices me, her grin spreads wide and she waves. Something about seeing her here—knowing she’s watching—makes my chest tighten in a way that’s really nice.

The game starts fast and hard. The visiting team, the Huskies, are as aggressive as we expected. They control the puck early, testing our defense with quick passes and sharp plays. I focus on my line, tracking the puck, reading the ice.

A few minutes into the first period, one of their forwards rockets a slap shot toward our net. Carson makes an incredible save, deflecting the puck to the corner, and I’m there to scoop it up. I’m humming with adrenaline, knowing that Stacey and Millie are watching me right now, and it makes me want to give this game everything I have. I skate hard, the ice vibrating under my feet as I weave past defenders, looking for an opening.

I pass to Jayce, who’s skating alongside me, and he takes a shot. It’s close—too close—but the Huskies’ goalie blocks it.

The second period is even tighter. I take more than one hit against the boards. My shoulder aches from a particularly nasty check, but I shake it off. There’s no time for pain.

We manage to tie the game with a scrappy rebound goal late in the period, and the crowd goes wild. I glance up at the stands again during the celebration. Millie jumps up and down, her little arms flailing with excitement. Stacey sits behind the team’s bench, cheering us on with a huge smile.

By the time we hit the third period, the score is locked at two-two, and the tension on the ice is palpable. Every pass, everyhit, every shot is met with deafening cheers or groans from the crowd. I push harder, my lungs burning, my legs heavy, but I don’t stop. With less than a minute on the clock, our coach pulls us into a quick huddle during a timeout.

“All right, we’re running out of clock fast,” Coach barks. “We need this last play to carry us home, got it?”

“Yes, Coach,” echoes through the team.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Coach says as he draws on the little white board in his hand. “Jayce, you’re going to go wide here, and Owen, you’re going to come in tight here…”

I listen intently. The play he sketches is risky, but it’s our best shot. I nod, determination coursing through me.

Back on the ice, the puck drops, and the play begins. I position myself near the blue line, waiting for the right moment. The puck cycles between our forwards, drawing the defense in, and then it’s passed back to me.

I don’t hesitate.

I wind up and take the shot, the puck slicing through the air. Time slows as the puck glides past the goalie’s glove and into the top corner of the net.

The applause erupts in a wave that crashes over me. My teammates swarm me, shouting, slapping my helmet, pounding my back. I did it.

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