Page 102 of Unleashed

“Your dress is going to be ruined.” I shrugged out of my jacket, but she danced away before I could cover her.

“Since when do you care about designer labels?” Her laugh turned breathless as she twirled through the shower, award clutched to her chest like it was molded from gold. “Remember our first kiss after the rain?”

Like I could forget. The memory still hit like a shot of whiskey—her rain-soaked skin under my hands, that soft gasp when I’d finally stopped fighting what was between us. “You were scared I’d hate you forever.”

“I hated myself.” She stepped closer, close enough that rain-damp tendrils of hair curled against her cheek. “I hated what I’d let myself become. The choices I made for safety. For survival.”

My chest pulled tight. Even now—months into joint calendars and late-night editing sessions and planning a courthouse wedding that had somehow become the town’s favorite sideshow—she still hit me with moments like this. No filter. No polish. Just Lily, brave enough to say the thing out loud. Always willing to hand me the sharpest piece of herself.

I cupped her wrist, my thumb brushing that pulse I’d memorized long before I ever touched her. “Look at you now, Hollywood.” I tipped my forehead to hers. “Burning down the rulebook and rewriting the whole damn thing.”

“Look at you now, Hollywood.” I pressed my thumb against her pulse point, steadying us both. “Setting the whole industry on fire with stories that matter.”

She rolled her lips, that familiar tell saying she was wrestling with something bigger than tonight’s success. “The Netflix deal...”

“Hey.” I tilted her chin until her eyes met mine, steady and familiar and still capable of knocking the wind out of me. “Whatever you decide, I’m behind you. You and Adele didn’t just throw together some feel-good clips in a small town—you built a body of work. Told stories worth remembering. If Netflix doesn’t get that—”

“They do,” she said, fingers tugging at my tie like she hadn’t already smoothed it flat twice. “They’ve seen the full Renegades series. How the coverage built momentum across the season—no fake rivalries, no cutaway drama. Just the game, the players, and the work it takes to stay in it. And they watched the side projects too. The rec center series. The firefighter feature. The derby doc.”

She looked up at me, eyes sharp, alive. “They said we’re tapping into something different. Not sanitized. Not posed. People fighting for a second chance. Or for the chance they never got the first time. They think there’s an audience starved for that kind of truth.”

Thunder cracked above us. She jumped slightly—I wrapped her in my arms without thinking.

“They want more of those?” I asked. “More of you showing the grind behind the glory?”

“Exactly.” Her voice dropped, weight settling behind each word. “They want to build out a new model. Give us the budget to keep doing what we’re already doing—just bigger. Still grounded. Still ugly sometimes. Still real. They want stories that strip away the filters and show the people underneath.”

Lightning streaked across the hotel’s facade, catching on the raindrops clinging to her lashes. Her hair curled at the edges, damp and glowing under the streetlights. I didn’t care that we were getting soaked. Not when she stood there, lit from the inside out, doing work she actually gave a damn about.

“You know what this means?” she whispered. “We could build something that lasts. Work that says: this is what matters. Not who’s trending. Not who’s the loudest. But who shows up. Who stays in the fight.”

My chest pulled tight, pride and love tangled in a way I’d never put words to. I brushed a knuckle down her cheek, then leaned in close.

“Dance with me.” The words escaped before I could think better of it.

Her eyes widened. “Here? Now?”

“Why not?” I spun her in a slow circle, mindful of her bare feet—those ridiculous heels dangling from her fingers along with her award. “Worked out pretty well last time we danced in the rain.”

Her laugh echoed off hotel walls as I pulled her close again. “Last time, Bright shunned us for a week for tracking water through his domain, otherwise known as the hardware store.”

“Still worth it.” I pulled her close, pressed my lips to her damp hair. “You’re always worth it.”

She pushed up on her toes, her lips finding mine with familiar hunger. The kiss tasted like rain and triumph and tomorrow. Like trust earned and love chosen and everything else that mattered.

Thunder rumbled overhead, but I barely noticed. Not with Lily’s hands sliding into my hair, her body soft against mine as the rain sprinkling down on us. Not with her lips carrying promises sweeter than any victory.

“Take me upstairs.” Her voice whispered against my mouth. “Before Rae’s next crisis notification kills the mood.”

I laughed, already reaching for her award and shoes. “What’s left to crisis about? She’s got the cakes handled.”

“Bright’s bowtie fitting.” She fell into step beside me as we finally headed inside. “Apparently his Grumpy Face Empire requires custom measurements.”

“Of course it does.” I pressed the elevator call button, pulling her close again. “Can’t have the official Three Corners Productions mascot looking anything less than perfect.”

Her fingers found my tie again, but this time there was nothing casual about her touch. “Speaking of perfect...”

The rest of her words disappeared against my mouth as I backed her into the elevator. Because some things hadn’t changed since that storm-soaked kiss in Three Corners. The way she made my heart race. The way her body fit against mine like coming home. The way choosing her felt like choosing a beautiful future.

“I love you.” The words came easy, as natural as breathing. “Hollywood polish and all.”

Her answering smile lit up the whole damn elevator. “Love you too. Grumpy hockey player and all.”

We barely made it to our room before her lips found mine again. And this kiss? This tasted like victory sweeter than any Cup. Like promises kept and trust protected and love chosen every single day.

Like rain and memories and promises and tomorrow.

Like home.

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