Page 23 of Gamechanger

Finally, it was my turn. I stepped forward, and, for some reason, I was nervous. I unwrapped my gift to discover a book,The Hidden Life of Trees.

Finn spoke up. "That's from me. You told me about your environmental science work. I thought this might be a nice bridge between the old career and your new one."

He left me speechless, touched by the thought he put into the gift. "Thank you," I whispered. "It's perfect."

I held the book close to my heart as I returned to my spot in the group. Whether he realized it or not, Finn had given me much more than just a Secret Santa gift. He'd shown me that he listened to me and cared about me. With the notable exception of Quinn as my best friend, I didn't have many people in my life who paid such close attention.

While the party surged with a second wind, everything had changed for me. I was falling for Finn, and judging by the way he kept stealing glances at me, he might have been falling, too.

The holiday celebration finally wound down around midnight, and my teammates and fellow staff began to trickle out in pairs and trios. I lingered to help clean up. I'd survived the big event and took my place in the Portland Lumberjacks family.

When I stepped out into the Portland night, the chilly air sharply contrasted with the ballroom's warmth. Holiday lights lit up the night and reflected off the damp city streets. With Finn's gift tucked securely under my arm, I relived the evening in my mind.

Finally reaching home, I fumbled with my keys at the door. When I managed to step inside, I kicked the door shut behind me and then leaned back against it. "What the hell am I doing?" I asked the empty room.

Moving to the kitchen, I filled a glass of water from the sink. While I swallowed a mouthful, I ran my fingers over the cover of the book Finn gave me. I remembered how his eyes lit up so brightly when I opened it.

The thing developing with Finn—whatever it might be—wasn't just superficial attraction. It was deeper and more profound than that. I knew that it had to be. He understood me in a way so few in my life did. Still, pursuing something could recklessly complicate both of our lives. We would rattle the dynamics of the team and Finn's career…

I groaned. "Pull yourself together, Moretti. You're a man, not some lovesick teenager. Get with the program."

Even as I tried to push myself away from the edge of the cliff, I knew my heart would fight back. In the past, I'd never experienced feelings like I had for Finn. The new emotions were both terrifying and thrilling.

Without thinking, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and let my thumb hover over Finn's name on my contact list—a flood of questions swept through my mind.

Should I text him? Should I thank him for the thoughtful gift? What would I say? I couldn't go with, "Hey, thanks for the book. Also, you need to know I can't stop thinking about how we almost kissed."

I shook my head and set the phone down. We couldn't hash it all out in a texting conversation. We had to talk—real talk—face to face. I knew that was the adult thing to do, but anxiety reared its ugly head when I imagined having the conversation. What if I was wrong about everything? What if Finn only wanted to be casual friends?

A few minutes later, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to fall asleep. The rational side of my brain said dating Finn was a bad idea. I didn't even have my professional sports world sealegs under me yet. It was the time to focus on my job, not a complicated relationship with one of the team's players.

But my heart… told me another story and demanded that I listen. Finn truly saw and understood me, and all indications were that he liked what he saw.

Chapter eight

Finn

The familiar silence that accompanied living alone in my apartment was a little heavier than usual on the evening of Christmas day. I'd strung up some festive little lights, and they cast a soft glow, but they didn't carry the comfort of an in-the-flesh human being.

As I lay on my sofa, I found myself lost in a sea of my teammates' family photos on Instagram. Each image was a stark contrast to my solitary Christmas.

Sergei's family photos, in particular, caught my eye. His grin, the matching reindeer pajamas, the joy in his kids' eyes—it was a scene of pure happiness that I longed to be a part of.

Underneath Sergei's pictures was a caption that read, "Merry Christmas from the Volkov clan! #happyhockeydays." His forced smile in the locker room had morphed into a genuine one. It spoke of the love and connection he felt with his family. It was a feeling I wanted, belonging and companionship that I couldn't find in my empty apartment.

Next, I stopped on Blaise's story. It was a series of videos that showed him surrounded by a small army of what I guessed were cousins. As I watched, a massive Nerf gun war played out. Loud peals of laughter accompanied the action. It was endearing to see the ordinarily intense fellow rookie appear so relaxed.

Coach Fraser posted a photo that captured the serenity of his experience. It was a shot of a Christmas tree through a lakeside cabin window. The caption was simple. "Peace on Earth. Enjoy the break, men."

I scrolled further and then stopped on a photo of a lively Christmas dinner. Terminally grumpy Axel actually had a smile on his face. He nestled close to Quinn, flanked by what I guessed were his father and sister. Before them was a spread of food that made my stomach growl.

There was one other smiling face in those photos, and it belonged to Moose. He had an arm slung over Quinn's shoulders, and his relaxed face conveyed contentment. The camera caught him in a rare, relaxed moment.

Before I could second guess what I might say, I typed out a text message:

Hey, big guy. How was Christmas with the O'Reilly-Karlsson clan? Was that an impressive Swedish feast or what?

I held my breath for a moment, but I didn't expect a prompt reply. Surprisingly, my phone buzzed almost immediately.

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