Page 67 of Breakaway to You

“Have you figured out what your next step is?” I asked.

His lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “One of them,” he said, his voice deepening as he pulled me closer. My skates slid easily across the ice, gliding me into his arms. His hands settled on my waist as my palms pressed against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “I’m hoping,” he continued, his eyes darkening, “now that we don’t work together anymore…that I could take you out on a date.”

My breath caught. Oh, my gosh. He was right. We didn’t work together anymore. I had been so wrapped up in my worry about his retirement that I hadn’t let myself think about what that meant. He was no longer a player for the Minnesota Wolves. I was no longer his physical therapist. There were no longer rules keeping us apart.

We were free.

My smile stretched wide, warmth blooming in my chest.

“What if I don’t want to go on a date?” I teased.

A flicker of worry crossed his face, his grip on my waist loosening. “Uh…yeah, I guess I shouldn’t have assumed?—”

I almost laughed. The idea that he thought I didn’t want this—didn’t wanthim—was ridiculous. If anything, my feelings for him had only grown stronger in the time we had spent apart.

“What if,” I interrupted, tilting my head playfully, “I want to cook dinner together and cuddle on the couch watching a movie instead?”

His muscles relaxed under my fingers, and his grip on my waist tightened again. His smirk returned, lazy and confident. “That sounds perfect.” He leaned in, his lips hovering just over mine. “A movie we’ve already seen, right?”

All I could do was nod before he closed the distance, his lips capturing mine. I smiled against his mouth, my heart soaring as he kissed me.

Finally, we were exactly where we were meant to be.

Epilogue

Zeke

Four months later

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the wedding reception came to life under a canopy of string lights. The golden glow cast a warm ambiance over the open field, where round wooden tables were draped in soft linen and adorned with simple wildflower centerpieces in vintage mason jars. The scent of fresh-cut grass, crisp evening air, and a hint of barbecue from the buffet table lingered, mixed with laughter and the easy chatter of guests.

Music drifted across the reception, blending with the soft clink of glasses and the occasional burst of laughter from the head table, where the bride and groom stole quiet, love-filled glances at each other. And guests lingered around fire pits, toasting marshmallows for s’mores, their voices carrying over the rolling Minnesota countryside.

Although Addie looked beautiful in her wedding gown, I had the most beautiful woman by my side. Piper looked gorgeous in her wine-colored dress, which showcased her curves I loved so much. Her lips matched the same color of her dress, and I was having a hard time keeping my hands—and my mouth—to myself.

She tilted her head with a knowing smile. “You’re not being very subtle.”

I raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

Her lips curved, amusement dancing in her eyes. “You look like you’re two seconds from throwing me over your shoulder so you can take me somewhere to be alone.”

“More like one second.” I lunged slightly, just enough to make her squeal—half giggle, half gasp—before stopping short. Her hands flew to my chest, gripping the lapels of my suit as if bracing herself. Instead of following through, I slid my arms around her, pulling her in close. Her warmth pressed against me, and I could feel the quickened rise and fall of her breath.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” I murmured, my lips grazing her temple.

“Yes,” she said, her voice soft, “and about every other night too.” She tilted her face up, her gaze locked onto mine with a sappy, love-drunk expression that made my heart clench.

Gosh, I loved being on the receiving end of that look.

It wasn’t just tonight—she was always the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Whether she was dressed up or in an old sweatshirt, whether her hair was perfect or messy, with or without makeup—it didn’t matter. She was stunning, but maybe that was because I was hopelessly in love with her. When you loved someone as much as I loved her, it was impossible not to be completely smitten, over and over again.

The past four months had been filled with days texting and nights spent together. We’d learned a lot about each other and about being in a relationship that meant more to you than anything else. There had been some learning curves, but there wasn’t anything that either of us wouldn’t do to make sure we were there for one another. There was a freedom in knowing and trusting in your partner, that through thick and thin, we were invested and committed for the long haul. And getting the experience of being in a relationship like this with Piper felt like a gift every day. One I would never take for granted.

I released my hold on her and took her hand in mine. “Come dance with me,” I said as I began walking us backwards to the dance floor.

She let me guide her, giving me a sweet smile, her eyes never leaving mine. “You know, the last time we were all dressed up and dancing in the middle of a dance floor, you kissed me.”

“Hey, now,” I teased. “I thought we established thatyoukissedmeat the gala. Can I hope for a repeat?”

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