Page 264 of Beautiful Collide

I love everything about this. The way the ice glistens under the bright spotlights. The anticipation building as fans wave their signs and scream for their favorite players.

It’s all part of why I keep playing.

Normally, that’s enough for me to want to play hard, but tonight, it’s something else.

Tonight, hockey isn’t the only thing on my mind.

Tonight isn’t just about the game.

Tonight is about her.

Molly.

She’s somewhere in the family box. In the past, she never wanted to sit there, but now, since my family is there, she wantsto be with them, and knowing her, she’s probably having the best time with my sister.

Things have been great with my family. I have no complaints, and lately, I can’t stop smiling. It helps that my parents are now swimming in dough. Ever since Molly spoke to my mom about me helping them, they became more open to it.

Thankfully, Coach came through, getting me an endorsement deal with a large organic grocery store. The connection has brought the farm a ton of new business, which has been great. They used the money to hire help, and now they have time to travel, see the world, and rack up a retirement fund. All thanks to Hex’s help.

The way she loves my family is how I know that I’ve made the right decision.

My heart pounds as I glance up at the booth, searching for her. And then I see her leaning over the railing, her hands clasped together as she talks to Josie and Anna.

She’s beautiful in a way that still knocks the wind out of me.

She’s effortless.

Radiant.

Mine.

A whistle from Mason snaps me out of my thoughts. “You ready for this?”

I turn to see him grinning like an idiot, his stick resting on his shoulder. Aiden and Dane are behind him, smirking, clearly in on the plan.

“Yeah,” I say. I keep my voice steady despite the fact that I feel anything but. “Let’s do it.”

The first period flies by in a blur.

We’re up by two.

The crowd is going nuts.

I love it.

Love being back on the ice.

As the second period winds down, my focus shifts.

During the intermission, I make my way to the locker room with the team, the adrenaline coursing through me like a live wire. Dane slaps me on the back as we pass through the tunnel.

“You nervous?” he mutters so no one hears.

“A little,” I admit. “But it’s a good kind of nervous.”

He smirks, shaking his head. “Good luck, man.”

As the third period begins, my nerves pick up. Not because of the game, though.

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