Page 90 of Coach's Temptation

Boxes of old skates, hockey sticks, and jerseys stack haphazardly around a dusty wooden desk. But what catches my attention instantly is a corkboard on the far wall, layered with faded photographs and newspaper clippings.

"Oh my god," I breathe, stepping forward. "Hunter… is this you?"

He moves behind me, slipping an arm around my waist as I study the images.

Dozens of grainy photos show a teenage Hunter, lanky and smiling proudly, hoisting trophies or posing with his team. Newspaper headlines declare,BRODY SCORES GAME WINNERandLOCAL STAR ON THE RISE.

"It was a long time ago," he murmurs, sounding slightly embarrassed.

I turn in his arms, cupping his jaw, forcing him to look at me. "You look so happy. Even cockier than you do now."

His mouth quirks into a lopsided smirk. "Impossible."

My laughter echoes through the tiny room. But then my eyes drift lower, noticing a slightly newer clipping pinned beneath the others, yellowing with age.

BRODY INJURED: CAREER IN QUESTION.

My heart squeezes painfully. "Hunter..."

Shadows pass over Hunter's face as he takes a long breath and blows out his cheeks.

"I wasn't sure I'd ever come back from it. Losing hockey…" His voice softens, vulnerability creeping into his eyes. "It almost destroyed me. There were days I couldn't even get out of bed, Nat. Weeks I couldn't sleep. Couldn't eat. I was a mess. I thought I'd lost everything."

My throat tightens, and I touch his chest gently.

"But you didn't. You fought your way through."

He exhales slowly, a smile finally cracking through the darkness. "Yeah. Eventually. I promised myself that if I ever got another shot, I'd never waste it. I'd give hockey, and myself, everything I had left."

I swallow hard, silently reflecting on the warmth I felt today in Hunter's family home. It's the kind of love and support I’d always longed for but never truly known until now.

In our own ways, we’ve both spent years searching for something real.

Hunter lost hockey, but he always had family. And maybe that's the difference.

His jaw tightens, but he forces a smile and does his best to change the sudden mood shift. "But… it's all just history now, Nat. Ancient history."

I feel the steady thump of his heart beneath my palm. "You fought so hard to come back from this."

Hunter's expression softens, his gaze warm as he looks down at me.

"And it led me right here. To the playoffs… to you. I'd do it all over again if it meant ending up in this moment."

My breath catches at his sincerity. "I still can’t believe I’m the lucky one standing here with you."

He chuckles low, his hand slipping beneath my sweater, fingers caressing my bare waist, drawing soft circles that make my skin shiver.

"Trust me, sweetheart, I’m the lucky one."

I tilt my head, eyes sparkling mischievously. "So, this office was your first job, huh? Did teenage Hunter ever sneak a girl back here?"

He laughs darkly, shaking his head. "Not once. My boss would've killed me."

"And now?" I challenge, arching a brow playfully.

His grip tightens possessively, heat burning in his stare. "Now I don't give a damn about getting caught."

Hunter doesn't wait another second.

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