Page 37 of Falling for the Hockey Superstar

And that’s when I know.

I’m done hiding.

We watch as the practice winds down.

“Mom, can I go see Griffin?” Jake asks the second Beck skates off the ice. That was sure a perfectly timed surprise.

“Sure, sweetheart.” I agree and watch him race toward the locker room.

Beck skates toward me, his hair damp, his smile tentative. “Didn’t expect to see you two here this morning.”

“Surprise,” I murmur, my lips tugging up at the corners.

His smile grows, but there’s a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. “Everything okay?”

I take a deep breath, my heart pounding louder than it should. “Actually… I was wondering if you’d like to come to dinner tonight.”

Beck blinks, his expression shifting from surprise to something softer… hopeful.

“Dinner?” His voice is careful, but I see the way his eyes search mine.

“Yeah.” I glance down, suddenly shy. “Just us. Jake’s at a sleepover tonight. And Spotty’s staying with Quinn.”

Beck’s grin spreads slowly, his eyes twinkling with something that makes my pulse quicken. “No interruptions?”

“None.”

For the first time, I see something shift in Beck’s expression—like he’s been waiting for this moment.

“Abby.” His voice is low, his gaze never leaves mine. “I’d love that.”

***

The evening feels different from the start.

Beck shows up at my door, casual but still ridiculously handsome in a dark sweater and jeans that fit just right. His broad shoulders and the slightly long blonde hair are enough to make me swoon, no matter how many times I’ve seen him. His smile is easy, but there’s a quiet intensity in his eyes that makes my breath catch.

“Come on in,” I say softly, stepping aside.

The house feels… different … without Jake and Spotty here. Quieter. More intimate.

I lead Beck into the kitchen, where I’ve set the table with candles that flicker softly, casting a warm glow.

“You didn’t have to go all out,” Beck murmurs, his voice close behind me.

“I wanted to.” I glance up at him, and for a moment, everything else fades.

"His eyes find mine, and the world seems to fade as something unspoken lingers between us."

“Abby?” His voice is barely a whisper.

“Sit,” I say softly, breaking the moment before I lose all control. “Before the food gets cold.”

Dinner is warm and comfortable—too comfortable.

We talk about Jake, about hockey, about life. But as the night stretches on, the conversation shifts…

Beck grows quiet, his gaze distant. And I can feel it—the weight of something unsaid.

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