“Good luck, Lucian. I’ll be watching on TV.”
“Wait—you watch my games?” I ask, surprised. My father never attended my hockey games in high school. He was always too busy working.
“I’ve watched all season. I had no idea how good you are. I only wish your grandfather could see you now.”
I smile to myself. “Me too, Dad.”
When I head back into the locker room, the guys are talking about season stats while I sit on the bench, staring into my locker.
“Hey, Lucian, you planning on joining us tonight for the game, or are you just here to model the uniform?” Asher teases.
I rub my forehead. “Sorry, just trying to get my head in the right space.”
“Uh-huh,” he says skeptically. “And does your distraction have something to do with a certain cupcake baker?”
“Not this time. My dad just called—said he might actually come visit. Even admitted he watches all my games.”
“That’s huge, man,” Cade says. “Speaking of people who should be watching—when is Neesha finally coming to a game?”
“She’s making cupcakes tonight, and honestly, I think she’s hesitant to step back into this world.” I stand, closing my locker door. “This is my dream, not hers.”
Even though I don’t want to pressure her, the fact that she hasn’t come feels like there’s a piece of herself she’s still holding back. And after what she told me at the lake, I want all of her. I want the whole world to know how much I love Neesha Gilmore.
Weston turns to me. “You know,” he says casually, “the funnything about dreams is that sometimes they change when you’re not looking.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Just that people surprise you sometimes. Look at the door.”
I turn, and my heart stops. Standing in the doorway is Neesha—wearing my jersey, my name across her back—her smile lighting me up inside.
I throw off my gloves and cross the room in three strides, not caring that the entire team is watching. When I reach her, I sweep her up into my arms and spin her around, her feet flying through the air as she laughs against my mouth. Then I’m kissing her—not holding back anything now—while her arms lock around my neck like she never wants to let me go.
This is the kiss I didn’t know I needed. The assurance that she’ll show up for me, love me for exactly who I am, hockey player and all.
When I finally set her down, we’re both breathless and grinning like idiots.
“You came,” I say, still holding her tight.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” she says, smoothing down her jersey. “Though I have to admit, wearing your name on my back feels pretty incredible.”
I laugh, pressing my forehead against hers. “Ready to watch me play?”
“I’ve been ready,” she says, and the way she looks at me—like I’m her hero—makes me feel like I could take on the world.
“I’m going to teach you to love this game,” I whisper against her lips.
“I already do. Because I loveyou,” she says, then her eyes widen when she realizes what she’s admitted in front of everyone. “I mean, that is…what I meant was?—”
“I love you too,” I say, loud enough for the entire locker room to hear.
The room explodes in cheers and whistles.
“Finally!” Carson shouts. “We’ve been waiting for you two to figure it out!”
“Oh, thank goodness,” she breathes, putting a hand on her chest. “Because that would have been really awkward to take back.”
I laugh, cupping her face. “I don’t want you to ever regret saying you love me.”
