Page 119 of Goalie's Obsession

She tilts her head, eyes sparkling with that sass I love. "That depends. Are you planning to carry me across the parking lot?"

With a chuckle, one arm sweeps under her knees, the other supporting her back as I scoop her up against my chest.

"Princess carry, bridal carry, over-the-shoulder caveman drag… you name it, baby. I've got you. All night long."

Her laugh echoes through the empty hallway, but her arms wrap tight around my neck. She presses closer, like she can't get enough of me. Like she finally trusts that I won't let her fall.

And when she kisses me, it's different from all our others.

It's soft and sweet, but hungry for the future. With every swipe of her tongue against mine, I can feel that there are no more walls between us, no more pretending.

We earned this one—every heated moment, every tender touch.

This kiss tastes like victory. Like coming home. Like everything I never knew I needed until Lucy Daniels crashed into my life and refused to leave.

I push the exit door open with my shoulder, never loosening my grip on Lucy. The crisp Iron Ridge night hits us both - that familiar bite of almost-winter that makes everything sharper, clearer.

Lucy shivers against my chest, burrowing closer. Her nose brushes my neck, and I swear my heart skips like I'm some teenager with his first crush in his arms instead of a Stanley Cup champion.

The parking lot stretches dark ahead of us, just a few security lights making shadows across the pavement.

But I don't need much light to know where I'm going.

This tunnel, this exit - I've walked it thousands of times after games, practices, wins, losses.

Tonight feels different though.

Because it hits me, standing here with Lucy in my arms, that home isn't what I thought it was. It's not the rink where I've spent most of my life. Not the roar after a big save. Not even the weight of the Cup in my hands.

Home is this woman who challenges me, calls me on my bullshit, and loves me anyway. Who fought for her brother even when it hurt. Who makes me want to be better, stronger, more worthy of the way she looks at me.

I press my lips to her temple. "Let's go home, Lucy Lou."

She lifts her head, eyes glinting with mischief. "Yours or mine?"

"Doesn't matter, baby. They're the same damn place now."

Epilogue

Lucy

One Month Later

The rehab center's common room has become as familiar to me as Chapter & Grind. Warm honey-colored walls, overstuffed armchairs, and the constant hum of peaceful music playing in the background.

"Lucy!" Ethan's voice carries across the room as I balance my overflowing tote bag. "Please tell me that's Emma's new Caramel Cookie blend I smell."

"Better." I pull out the silver thermos. "She's testing a new roast. Called it 'Recovery Road.' Said you inspired it."

Martha, the head nurse who reminds me of a cuddly grandmother, wraps me in a tight hug. "Your brother's been talking about game day all week. Even got the other residents excited about watching hockey."

"Did he mention he used to play?" I set out the snacks - trail mix, and Ethan's favorite sour gummy worms. "Or is he still being modest?"

"Modest?" Ethan snorts, reaching for the thermos. "I told them all about scoring on Connor in juniors. Once. Out of like five hundred attempts."

Two other residents, James and Pete, drift over at the mention of snacks. They've become Ethan's closest friends here, bonding over their shared struggles and love of sports statistics.

"Your coffee goddess friend single?" James asks, helping himself to trail mix.

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