Page 78 of Unleashed

Something clattered from my stall as I reached for my suit. A thumb drive. Simple. Small. My name written in feminine handwriting.

Lily.

The ache in my chest had nothing to do with losing the game.

My phone buzzed. Dad’s name on the screen. I stepped into the hall, found a quiet corner. “Hey.”

“Proud of you, son.” His voice came through rough with emotion. “Gave everything you had.”

“Wasn’t enough.”

“The hell it wasn’t.” Steel entered his tone. “You went out on your shield. Fighting. Leading. I’m so damn proud of you, son.”

Something cracked open in my chest. “Dad—”

“Your mother’s crying. Says you’re still her baby boy.” He cleared his throat. “But I see the player you’ve become. The legacy you built there. That’s worth more than any Cup.”

We disconnected the call and I leaned against the wall, let it take my weight. Let his words wash over me.

The hallway had emptied. The arena gone quiet. Just me and the ghost of what could have been. The thumb drive burned in my pocket, heavy with emotions I wasn’t ready to face.

Time to let go.

Of the game. Of the dreams. Of the woman who’d somehow wound her way past all my defenses just in time to see them crumble.

I pushed off the wall. One foot in front of the other.

The way I’d always done.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Lily

Hockey Rule #77: Start on time. Finish strong

Media Rule #77: Start small. Stay real

MorningsunlightspilledacrossSugar Squared’s glass storefront, turning it soft gold, the kind of glow that begged to be captured. My dirty chai—a ritual I’d never surrender—sent steam curling into the air, warm and spiced with cinnamon.

Back in my old life, my crew would’ve scrambled for their cameras, framing the perfect shot, chasing angles, adjusting exposure. But here, in the heart of Mapleton’s historic town square, beauty simply existed. No filters. No staging. Just real.

Still, habit ran deep. My producer brain ticked through the details, cataloging without permission. The pressed tin ceiling, burnished smooth by time. Wood plank floors, heavy with the weight of a century’s worth of morning footsteps. Cast iron shelving, framing delicate glassware and trays of fresh pastries. Wildflowers, hand-painted in soft blues and yellows, climbing the walls like something plucked from a storybook.

Voices blended in the air, a warm hum thick and slow, like honey dissolving into tea.

I pressed my thumb against my wrist, counting heartbeats until the urge to reach for nonexistent camera equipment passed. Three months into small-town life, and I still caught myself trying to package every moment.

“I swear, this boy is determined.” Adele’s laugh carried across the room where she perched at a side counter, phone in hand as she showed something to Rae. “Look at this text. Who sends shower thoughts about defensive strategies at three a.m.?”

“Riley does, apparently.” Rae Hossman—wife of Hoss, the former NHL hotshot turned hockey guru—leaned in to see the screen. Her perpetual scowl softened just a fraction, betraying the heart of gold she tried so hard to hide behind her prickly exterior.

Sugar Squared might be Three Corners’ favorite bakery, but its owner had a reputation for being as sharp as the knives in her kitchen. Only Hoss seemed immune to her bite, his endless optimism and enthusiasm for life the perfect balance to her cynicism.

Looking back at Riley’s relentless optimism over the last year, it was obvious the rookie came by his puppy energy naturally.

Rae arched a brow. “Though I have to admit, his enthusiasm is kind of adorable, in an annoying kind of way. God help me, I’m surrounded by human golden retrievers. Save me now, please.”

The mention of three a.m. texts caught me off guard, throwing me into a flood of memories before I could brace against them. My throat tightened. Jack used to do the same thing. Historical stats and game theory showing up on my phone at impossible hours. The way his brilliant hockey mind never seemed to shut off, always analyzing, always planning. His excitement the first time I actually understood what he was talking about…

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