Page 28 of Taming the Grumpy Hockey Player

Chapter 20

Logan

The festive hum of Pine Harbor Town Square surrounds us, a living, breathing energy that feels like the town itself is celebrating. String lights crisscross above, casting a warm glow over the cobblestone streets. Booths from the day’s adoption event are still up, their colorful banners fluttering gently in the cool evening breeze. The air smells faintly of caramel popcorn and spiced cider, mingling with the crispness of autumn. As I walk beside Lucy, a coffee in hand, the warmth of the cup against my palm is a small comfort against the cool night air. Her laughter rings out, clear and bright, cutting through the background noise and embedding itself in my chest.

The whole day has felt surreal—like the kind of moment you know will stay with you long after it’s gone. But tonight isn’t just about celebrating the success of the event. It’s about finally saying the words I’ve been holding back.

“I still can’t believe how well it went,” Lucy says, her eyes sparkling as she looks over the square. “We hit every goal, the sponsors are happy, and Lewis stole the show.”

I smirk, sipping my coffee. “He’s a natural. Not every dog has star power.”

She laughs, and the sound settles deep, a comforting warmth against the cool night air. “I’ll admit, I was a little nervous about today. The logistics, the press, the turnout… it all felt so big. But seeing those families leave with their new pets? That made everything worth it.”

“You should be proud,” I say, my voice quieter now. “What you’ve done with the shelter, the campaign… it’s not just impressive. It’s inspiring.”

Lucy’s steps falter slightly, her cheeks flushing in the dim light. Her lips curve into a soft smile, but she shifts her clipboard nervously between her hands. “It wasn’t just me. You’ve been a big part of this. More than you realize.”

Her words land somewhere deep, an anchor in the middle of the swirling thoughts I’ve been wrestling with for weeks. She’s giving me too much credit, but hearing it from her makes me want to believe it. Makes me want to be better.

“Come on,” she says, tugging gently at my arm. “Let’s sit for a minute.”

We find a bench near the fountain, its gentle trickling a soft backdrop to the bustling energy of the square. Kids’ laughter drifts through the air, and somewhere nearby, a street performer strums a guitar. The faint scent of roasted chestnuts lingers, blending with the cool night breeze. But none of it registers fully because Lucy is beside me, her presence filling the space like nothing else matters.

“I’ve been meaning to say something,” I start, my voice low. The words feel heavy, but they’ve been waiting too long to stay unsaid. Lucy turns to face me, her expression open and curious, her full attention settling on me. The light from the string lights dances in her eyes, making them seem impossibly warm.

“What’s on your mind?” she asks softly.

I take a deep breath, the cold air stinging my lungs. “When this campaign started, I thought it was just another way to fixmy image. Something to check off the list and move on from. But somewhere along the way, it became about more than that.”

Her expression shifts, the curiosity giving way to something deeper—encouragement, maybe even hope.

“You changed that for me,” I continue, the words tumbling out now. “You made me see things differently. About the team, about this town… about myself.”

Her lips part slightly, but she doesn’t interrupt. Her steady gaze feels like both a safety net and a challenge.

“I don’t know how to say this without screwing it up,” I admit, running a hand through my hair. “But you mean more to me than just a partner in this campaign. You mean… everything. And I’m not saying that because of what happened today or because of how easy you make this all look. I’m saying it because you’ve become the most important person in my life.”

The silence that follows is charged and fragile, stretching between us like a tightrope. My chest feels too tight, my pulse too loud in my ears. I wonder if I’ve gone too far, said too much. But then Lucy’s hand covers mine, her touch warm and grounding.

“Logan,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. Her lips press together for a moment, and her gaze dips to our hands. “I’ve been trying to figure this out too. And if I’m honest, I’ve been scared. Scared of how much I care about you and how much this could change everything. But hearing you say that… I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel the same.”

Her cheeks flush as she looks down at our hands, her thumb brushing lightly against mine. “You’re right. This started as a partnership, but it’s become so much more. And the thought of losing this—losing you… terrifies me.”

I turn her hand over, lacing my fingers with hers. “You’re not going to lose me,” I say firmly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

For a moment, the world narrows to just us. The noise of the square fades, replaced by the faint strumming of a streetperformer’s guitar in the distance. The cool evening air brushes against my skin, sharper after the warmth of her touch. Her hand feels soft and steady against mine, grounding me as my pulse thrums in my ears, matching the rhythm of this shared, unspoken connection. Lucy leans in, her eyes searching mine, and I meet her halfway. When our lips meet, it’s soft and searching at first, a tentative step into something new. But it deepens quickly, a spark igniting into a steady flame. Her hand comes up to rest lightly against my chest, her warmth and soft touch anchoring me in the moment. I’m certain she can feel the steady, rhythmic thrum of my heartbeat, each beat aligning with hers in a silent, shared connection.

When we finally pull back, her eyes are bright, her expression a mix of joy and uncertainty. “What happens now?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

I smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “We figure it out. Together.”

The walk back to my apartment is quiet, the cool night air sharp against my skin but doing little to calm the thoughts racing in my mind. Every step is laced with the memory of her—her laugh, her smile, the way she looked at me when I told her how I felt. It’s like the whole world has shifted, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like it’s moving in the right direction.

Before heading home, I stop by the community center to grab Lewis. He’d spent the evening lounging in a quiet corner with Emma, away from the chaos of the event. Now, as I step through the door, his tail starts wagging furiously, and he bounds over, his whole body vibrating with excitement.

“Hey, buddy,” I say, crouching down to ruffle his ears. “Miss me?”

He barks softly, his tail thumping against the floor. Grabbing his leash, I clip it on, and we step out into the quiet streets. The crunch of gravel underfoot grounds me as we walk through the park, the stars scattered like diamonds above us. Lewis trots beside me, occasionally stopping to sniff a patch of grass or inspect a tree.

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