Page 70 of A Christmas For Holly

Kai’s grin softened, his eyes sharp but kind. “You might have given up on hockey, Holls, but hockey’s always in your blood. The ice is part of who you are.”

I stared at him for a moment, my chest tight. The words hit harder than I wanted to admit, but I swallowed the emotion, glancing at Lucas. He nodded, that steady look of his grounding me.

“Fine,” I muttered, shrugging off my coat. “Let’s see if I can still do this.”

The faint sound of kids laughing and skating echoed from the far side of the rink as I laced up Kai’s skates, the familiar chill of the ice sinking into my bones. It was kids and skating, like Lucas said. Nothing more. But somehow, as I stepped onto the ice, it felt like everything.

The ice carried a blur of motion and noise, kids darting from side to side in purple-themed gear, their sticks clattering, and laughter bouncing off the walls. The practice was chaotic, unpolished, and nothing like the crisp, rehearsed drills I was used to from my years in the NHL. Instead, it was something raw and joyful, and it made my chest ache in the best way.

It had a magic all of its own.

One kid caught my eye, a wiry little boy who kept tripping when he circled the net, his knees hitting the ice with a hollow thud, and each time he got back up, shaking his head like he was willing himself not to cry.

I skated over, crouching in front of him. “Hey, tough guy. What’s your name?”

“E-Eli,” he stammered, his lip quivering. “I’m not tough. I’m terrible with my edges.”

I smiled, shaking my head. “You’re not terrible, Eli. You’re out here, giving it your all, and that makes you tougher than halfthe players I’ve seen. You know what the secret is to being a great hockey player?”

He blinked at me, his wide eyes full of doubt. “What?”

“Keep falling. And keep getting back up. That’s all it is. Every single time. Got it?”

He sniffled, nodding slowly. “Got it.”

“Good.” I tapped his helmet before skating backward, motioning for him to follow. “Now show me what you’ve got.”

Eli was still falling by the time practice ended, but he was laughing now, which felt like a win. The kids shuffled off the ice in a loud, clumsy herd, leaving the space empty except for me, Kai, and Lucas watching from the boards. The ice was quiet again, and the sound of my skates was the only thing filling the space as I took a slow lap around the rink.

When I finally stepped off the ice, my legs felt like jelly, my chest tight with something I couldn’t quite name, but it wasn’t panic. I felt new. Whole. And shaky as hell. The weight I’d been carrying for years—the guilt, the fear, the loss—was a little lighter, as though I’d left some of it on the ice. But the trembling didn’t stop as I unlaced my skates, my hands shaking so badly I could barely pull the laces free.

Lucas was there before I could process everything, tugging me into a dark corner near the benches. His arms wrapped around me, solid and sure, holding me up as my emotions swirled out of control.

“I’m proud of you, boyfriend,” he murmured, his voice low and full of warmth.

I froze for a moment, the word sinking in.Boyfriend.It felt foreign and perfect all at once. I tilted my head up, meeting his eyes, and before I could overthink, I kissed him. It wasn’t rushed or frantic; it was slow and steady, grounding me in a way nothing else could.

“About freaking time,” Kai’s voice rang out, amused and just loud enough to startle us apart. He stood a few feet away, arms crossed, a knowing smirk on his face.

Lucas groaned, burying his face against my shoulder. “Thanks for ruining the moment, Kai.”

“Not ruining. Observing,” Kai shot back, his grin widening. “Carry on. Or don’t. Just know that Bailey’s going to want the full play-by-play.”

I laughed, the sound feeling freer than in years, and tightened my hold on Lucas. Because, for once, I didn’t care who was watching. For the first time in forever, I felt like me again.

Not much later, a panic attack came from nowhere, and Lucas stopped the car and held me through it all. It was all too much.

I think I cried.

I know I did.

And through all of it, Lucas held me and told me I was okay.

And that he loved me.

Thanksgiving had been quiet, just the two of us in the cabin. I wasn’t ready for an entire Haynes family gathering—not yet. Lucas had been honest with me about the messages his family kept sending, all buzzing with excitement over us being together and suggesting we join them. I appreciated that he told me, but I wasn’t there yet. Still, I couldn’t say no to the Christmas parade. It was a Haynes institution, and Lucas had been counting down to it like a kid waiting for Santa.

That was how I ended up hiding out in Wesley’s bookshop, listening to him and Hunter McCoy bicker over costumes. Wesley, dressed in a dramatic ghost outfit with an absurdlyrealistic chain, was trying to convince Hunter to wear makeup for his role as another ghost. Hunter, in a frock coat and with a disbelieving huff, was having none of it.

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