Page 118 of Coach's Temptation

She's not a distraction from my goals. She's the reason any of it matters.

The celebration swirls around me like I'm standing in the eye of a hurricane. Through the chaos, I catch Wes's smug face in the opposing bench. He gestures to his phone, mouthing something about "the offer."

I turn my back on him.

My feet are already moving, carrying me toward that tunnel, toward the medical bay, toward Natalie. I need to see Connor, need to know he's okay.

But more than that?

I need to fix what I broke with the only person who makes any of this mean something.

I find her in the dim hallway outside the medical bay, her back pressed against the concrete wall. Even from here, I can see the exhaustion in the slope of her shoulders, the way her hands tremble slightly as she types on her phone.

My footsteps echo. She looks up.

Her green eyes lock onto mine, and Christ… the pull is magnetic. Like gravity. Like coming home.

"Can we talk?"

She doesn't move. Doesn't soften. "What's left to say, Hunter?"

I could list a thousand things. But none of it truly matters right now.

Only one truth does.

"I love you." The words fall from my lips, so damn simple and bare. "And I need you to let me fix this."

For a long moment, she just stares at me, and I force myself to stay still. To let her process. To give her the space to decide.

Finally, she exhales.

Then she nods. Once, and once only.

"Okay."

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Natalie

Last night was a fucking disaster.

Yes, the Icehawks won. We take a lead in the Stanley Cup Finals, but at what cost?

Connor’s concussion meant I spent the entire night in the medical wing, monitoring him, reassuring the team, making sure he was stable before he got sent home under the careful watch of Lucy who refused to leave his side.

And through all of it, one thought kept rattling around in my skull, over and over again.

I need to talk to Hunter.

I barely even processed the game, the win, the celebrations. I didn’t care about the reporters or the team’s high spirits, or the fact that Iron Ridge was exploding with triumphant joy around me.

All I could think about was the moment I saw Hunter in that stadium hallway, his hands clenched into fists, his whole bodyradiating intensity and frustration, like he was barely holding himself together…

That was the moment I knew… thereisa way to fix this.

But we never got the chance.

By the time I finished with Connor, it was past one in the morning. Hunter was still waiting, posted up like a broody security guard outside the medical room, but I could barely function.

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