Page 59 of Heartfelt Goals

“Love ya, man.”

“Love ya too, bro.”

Salas walked past, laughing wildly and grinning - then Laurel saw Dustin.

Her husband was slowly making his way off the ice, walking beside the other goalie, talking quietly to each other. Her husband had a lot of respect for Matthieu Larsson – and she’d met his wife briefly earlier in the evening. Cute, quiet, nerdy thing that was just adorable, reminding her of a teddy bear you wanted to snuggle. The two seemed so different, but then again – so were Laurel and Dustin.

“Hey,” Dustin smiled, his expression tired.

“You did great this evening,” she began gingerly, holding his gaze as Kendall interrupted.

“Bro, you have got to teach me your moves on the ice!” Kendall began. “Seriously, sick man! You were on fire, and thatfinal save? – Chefs kiss. I think you are upgrading from the toilet to a full-fledged bidet, and that’s saying something.”

The two men laughed – Matthieu looking confused and a little nervous. “Where’s Jeannie?”

“She got called into work,” Laurel began and saw the man’s confused and crestfallen face. “I don’t think she wanted to leave, and she looked really upset.”

“It’s fine – and thank you for letting me know. See you Monday, Lafreniére,” Matthieu said easily. “Mrs. Lafreniére, Kendall…” he nodded and took off, leaving Dustin standing there with them.

“So upgraded, huh,” he smiled easily. “What if I’m partial to my toilet mug.”

“Then keep it – ya know – in case you lose the next game or screw up,” Kendall replied, shrugging… but there was that telltale smirk shared between them.

“I appreciate that,” he chuckled and looked at Laurel. “I’ve got to get cleaned up and…”

“Do you want us to wait?” she asked interrupting nervously. “We can wait in the lounge or in the car. I don’t mind…”

“I do,” Kendall chimed in. “Unless there’s snacks – then I’m down.”

“If you don’t mind,” Dustin smirked. “There are snacks in the lounge and you would be comfortable. I might be a minute…”

“Take your time,” Laurel assured him as Kendall was tugging at his hand already with a familiarity that spoke of family as Dustin tossed a smile over his shoulder as Laurel put her hand on it. The trio parted a moment later as the two of them stepped into the lounge to wait, and Dustin took off to get cleaned up.

The spread was unexpectedly generous—long tables lined with gleaming chafing dishes, their silver lids reflecting the warm lighting of the lounge. The scent of roasted meats, smoked chicken wings, buttery rolls, and something decadently cheesyfilled the air, and at the very center of it all sat a tray of cupcakes, their blue and red swirls a playful nod to the team’s colors. It was a small detail but one that spoke volumes.

Laurel took it all in, the warmth of the gathering settling into her bones. This wasn’t just a courtesy, a meaningless gesture for show. It was something more. A statement. A promise.

Take care of them, and they’ll take care of us.

It was an unspoken mantra, evident in the way the team treated not just their players, but the people connected to them. Wives, girlfriends, siblings, even children—every single person in this room mattered. The organization didn’thaveto do this. They didn’t have to feed them, or offer them comfortable seats, or welcome them into the fold like family. But they did. Time and time again.

And that kind of loyalty? That kind of care? It was humbling.

Laurel’s heart squeezed a little as she settled into a chair, the murmur of voices blending with the occasional burst of laughter around her. She wasn’t used to this. Beingincluded. Beingvalued.

And from the relaxed way people settled in, waiting for their loved ones to emerge from the locker room, she knew she wasn’t alone in feeling that way.

“Ooooh, gurrrrl,” Jamie Salas teased, dragging out the words in amusement. “This isnice.”

“Right?” Kendall chimed in, flopping onto a nearby couch without a care in the world, her fingers already tearing into a chicken wing like it was the first food she’d seen in days.

Jamie chuckled, shifting her attention to Laurel. “So… did you and your mom?—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Kendall interrupted flatly, lifting a single hand in a gesture so authoritative that it would have put a seasoned CEO to shame. “She’s my sister. And while shedoesneed some foundation or eyeliner—” Kendall paused togesture vaguely toward Laurel’s face, “—Laurel doesn’t lookthatancient.”

Laughter rippled through the group.

Laurel rolled her eyes, sighing with exaggerated exasperation. “Hi. I’m Laurel—the decrepit older sister.”

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