Page 65 of Falling for the Hockey Superstar

Jake curls up on one of the blankets, sticky fingers tangled in Spotty’s fur. The dog lets out a groan and stretches out, tail thumping lazily as Jake drapes a sleepy arm across his back.

As I settle beside Abby, I hand her a mug of cider. The fire crackles gently, sending sparks into the night. The sky above us darkens into a deep velvet, and stars begin to prick through the darkness.

Mom nudges my shoulder as she eases down onto the blanket between me and Dad. “Youdonegood, son,” she says with her typical grin.

“Thanks, Mom.”

Dad lifts his mug in a mock-toast. “I always told you, kid—family’s not about blood. It’s about who you’d burn dinner for.”

“That explains your cooking,” Mom says dryly.

Laughter breaks across the fire circle, warm and real. It makes me so very happy at how my folks have taken to Abby and Jake. They are quite bonkers over having a grandson nearby, one that they get to talk with and invite for sleep overs. And even better, they don’t seem to mind the slobbering canine he brings with him.

I glance around. At the people I care about most. I see Jake, fast asleep, and Abby, who smiles like she’s holding something fragile and beautiful in her hands. At my friends—some of them are falling in love, some of them are just starting to figure it out.

I turn toward Abby, watching the way the firelight dances in her eyes. Her cheeks are pink either from the breeze or from being so close to the fire. Her curls are wild from chasing Jake earlier. She tucks her legs beneath her and leans into my side without hesitation.

“You okay?” I ask softly.

She nods, sliding her hand into mine. “More than okay.”

And it hits me—hard and simple and sudden.

This is it.Not just the place.This. Is. Home.

The quiet around us, the laughter close by, the feel of her fingers curling around mine.

I don’t justseea future anymore. Ifeelit.

Right here. Right now. It’s in the sleepy sighs of a boy who trusts me with his heart. It’s in the gentle chaos of a dog who thinks this place is his kingdom. It’s in the soft warmth of a woman whose love I never saw coming.

This farmhouse isn’t just somewhere I escaped to after years of noise and pressure and headlines. It’shomenow.

Even if the bedrooms are still empty and there are boxes I haven’t unpacked. Even if Abby hasn’t officially moved in. Even if Jake’s toothbrush is still in her bag and not in the upstairs bathroom.

Theyfithere. She fitsme.And I know I won’t be alone here for much longer.

The fire burns low, casting flickering shadows across the yard as more people begin to gather their things. Quinn is still tucked under Wes’s arm like she’s always been there. Jane and Griff are helping pack up leftovers, laughing softly about something I don’t quite catch.

Abby’s tucked her head on my shoulder. Jake mumbles in his sleep and shifts closer to Spotty, who lets out a sleepy huff and guards him like a spotted pillow with a purpose.

“Are you tired?” I whisper.

She hums, not quite a yes or no. “Happy,” she says instead.

I nod, brushing a kiss against her temple. “Me too.”

The moment stretches. The stars seem closer tonight. Brighter.

I think of the little velvet box hidden in the drawer in my room. I haven’t told anyone—not even Wes or Griff. But it’s there. Waiting. Burning a hole in my soul every time I walk past it.

I’m not rushing. I want her to feel it too—this certainty. But nights like this? They make it really, really hard to wait.

I glance toward the porch where the others are heading in to get their things, slowly calling it a night.

“Stay,” I murmur. “Just a little longer.”

Abby’s smile is soft and sleepy. “Okay.”

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