Page 53 of The Hockey Contract

Silence crashed around me again, amplified by the sudden void left by her absence. I tossed the phone onto the bedside table, running a hand through my hair. Sienna knew exactly how to drive me wild, even from thousands of miles away.

Sighing, I rolled onto my back, staring up at the blank ceiling. Sleep was going to be a long time coming. My body was exhausted, spent, but my mind was racing, filled with images of Sienna, naked in bed, her voice husky in my ears, the memory of her fingers inside her, the promise in her eyes.

A hard taste of the real thing, she’d said. God, I couldn’t wait to get home.

The next day, I played with renewed focus and determination. In the third period, with the score tied 2-2, I intercepted a cross-ice pass and sent the puck to Finn, who buried it for the game-winning goal.

In the post-game interviews, a reporter asked what had changed from yesterday's performance.

"Just refocused," I replied with my usual brevity.

"Your wife posted on social media that she was watching today. Did that provide extra motivation?"

I blinked, unaware Sienna had actually posted anything about the game. "She's supportive," I said carefully.

"Several players' wives have mentioned how Sienna has brought a new energy to the team community. Has your relationship changed your approach to hockey?"

The question shouldn't have caught me off guard—it was precisely the narrative we'd constructed for the endorsement deal. Yet something made me pause, considering my answer carefully.

"Sienna helps me see beyond hockey," I finally said, surprising myself with the sincerity in my voice. "She reminds me there's a whole world outside the rink. It gives me... perspective."

The reporter looked pleased with this unusually personal response. "Sounds like married life agrees with you."

"It does," I replied simply, realizing too late how genuine the words sounded.

On the bus back to Seattle, Leo called, practically buzzing with excitement.

"That interview was gold," he exclaimed without preamble. "Perfect Home Furnishings is over the moon. The 'whole world outside the rink' quote is already trending."

"Glad it's working," I said, staring out the window at the passing landscape.

"Working? It's exceeding expectations. They want to move up the contract signing." Leo paused. "There's more. Olivia wants to arrange another photoshoot, this time at the bakery. Show Sienna in her element, you supporting her business. It's brilliant cross-promotion."

My first thought wasn't about the endorsement benefits but about how another photoshoot would affect Sienna. "The bakery's busy right now with gala preparations. It might not be the best timing."

"Since when do you worry about timing?" Leo sounded bewildered by my hesitation. "This is exactly what we wanted—the endorsement locked in, public interest high. A bakery shoot just cements the narrative."

"I know. Just thinking practically." I changed the subject. "When do my parents arrive?"

"Wednesday, as planned. Olivia's arranged a photographer to 'happen' to catch you all at dinner. Very subtle, just enough for the narrative."

After hanging up, I stared at my phone, troubled by the increasingly tangled web we were weaving.

The team bus arrived in Seattle late, nearly midnight. Exhausted from the back-to-back games and travel, I let myself into the quiet house, expecting Sienna to be asleep.

Instead, I found her curled on the living room couch with Sprinkles, both apparently having tried to wait up for me. A covered plate sat on the coffee table with a note: "Reheats well in the microwave. – S"

Lifting the cover revealed homemade lasagna, still slightly warm. The thoughtfulness of the gesture—remembering my earlier mention of lasagna as a favorite food—created a warm sensation in my chest.

Sienna shifted in her sleep, her face peaceful in the soft light. A strand of hair had fallen across her cheek, and without thinking, I reached out to gently tuck it behind her ear. She looked smaller in sleep, vulnerable in a way her daytime energy concealed.

Rather than wake her, I carefully gathered her in my arms, surprised by how natural it felt to hold her against my chest. Sprinkles watched curiously as I carried Sienna to her bedroom, her head resting trustingly on my shoulder, breath warm against my neck.

As I laid her on her bed, she stirred slightly but didn't wake. I pulled the comforter over her, allowing myself one brief moment to watch her sleep before quietly closing the door.

In the kitchen, I ate the lasagna she'd made, the familiar flavors bringing back childhood memories—family dinners, my mother's kitchen, home in its truest sense. The fact that Sienna had prepared this specific meal, had remembered this detail about me, felt significant in a way I couldn't fully articulate.

Two weeks. We'd been married only two weeks, yet somehow Sienna had become more than a business partner in this arrangement. She'd become someone whose opinion I valued, whose laughter I sought, whose presence I missed when away.

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