Page 11 of Much Ado About Hockey

Karen stood and followed the sound of him moving in the kitchen, the soles of her shoes whispering softly across the hardwood floor. She wrapped one arm around her waist, the other holding her pen like it could protect her.

“Look, Jett,” she began, her voice softer than she’d meant it to be, stripped of its usual sharp edges. She was walking into emotional territory she didn’t know how to navigate, blindfolded and barefoot. “I think maybe we made a mistake and…what’s that?”

He was standing in the middle of the kitchen like some kind of accidental dream, a nervous smile on his face, holding what looked like a piece of art made of flowers and ribbon. There were loops of satin, delicate sprigs of baby’s breath, vibrant greenery framing two perfect orchids—white with a blush of purple so vivid it made her breath catch.

Her steps faltered.

“Is that… a corsage?”

“It’s a flower for my bride.”

“Oh my gosh – thatisa corsage, isn’t it?”

He moved toward her with a kind of quiet determination, no hesitation, no permission asked, just that same Jett confidence she both admired and feared. Before she could even register what was happening, his hand was slipping into the lapel of her sweater, his fingers nimble, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Hey—” she murmured, instinctively batting at his wrist, but he didn’t flinch. He just frowned deeper, then stepped back just as quickly as he’d moved in, holding his hands up as if in surrender.

“I was trying to protect you from getting stuck with the pin,” he explained calmly, like this was all perfectly normal.

Karen blinked. “Why do you have a corsage here? How long have you been planning on asking me to marry you? Do I know you or something? Why… how… oh my gosh, I am so confused,” she whispered, reaching up to press her fingers against her temple. Her forearm brushed against the flowers now resting against her chest, pinned there delicately, like a secret. It was stunning. It was absurd. It was… oddly magical.

And all of this felt impossibly surreal.

Somehow, it was also strangely wonderful.

“Look,” Jett said, sighing as he rubbed the back of his neck. There was vulnerability there, raw and unhidden, and it caught her off guard. “I never listened to my mom growing up, and my dad was pretty much a loser, but the one thing she and my grandma said to me was that if I ever had a lady-friend come over to the house, I needed to make the ladies in my life feel special. So I keep some flowers waiting—just in case. I used to buy a bouquet every Sunday at the grocery, but they died really fast. I started ordering a small floral arrangement froma florist nearby, and they lasted a little longer, but considering my schedule and the fact that I haven’t dated much in the last few months, I switched to corsages because you can refrigerate them, and they stay nice for a while before I have to trash ‘em.”

She blinked, stunned. “You just… have flowers waiting… all the time?”

“Yeah, so? Don’t other guys do that?”

Her lips parted, no words coming out—just stunned silence.

“And now?” he added, his voice lighter as if he were trying to ease her nerves. “I can get my little Wifey-Pooh a fresh bouquet anytime I want.” He winked at her, flashing that crooked smile—but then, just as quickly, his expression sobered. “You don’t look happy. I thought flowers were supposed to make a woman happy to receive them. If you don’t like orchids, what do you like? Roses are so overdone by society, you know? I like a little something with flavor and flair.Panache, you know?”

Karen’s knees nearly gave out. Emotion and confusion swirled inside her like a storm. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She just stared at him, her lips trembling.

And then he moved.

Jett was at her side in an instant, his arm firm and steady around her, guiding her toward the small kitchen table like he’d done this a hundred times before. He pulled out a chair and gently sat her down, reaching for a bowl at the center.

“I get low blood sugar,” he said quickly, almost frantic, grabbing a few Hershey Kisses and offering them to her. “I keep these here for a reason—and my brother likes them. Eat a few, and I’ll…”

“I’m not having a low blood sugar moment,” she interrupted, lifting her gaze to meet his. His face was so close, too close, and she hated how aware she was of how warm his body felt beside her—how safe. “I’m just a little confused by all of this and you. You don’t act like other guys.”

His smile tilted into something softer, more sure.

“’Cause I’myourguy now,” he said, his voice rich with humor and certainty. “At least for a while. And we’re gonna be fine. You know? We’ll just roll with the punches and figure it out eventually.”

Karen’s breath caught. His words, so easy and light, landed with weight in the middle of her chest. She swallowed hard, hugging herself unconsciously. “You don’t need a plan?” she whispered, her voice almost lost in the hum of the refrigerator.

“Why? Plans have a way of going off the rails or changing – so you just kinda go with it.”

Her brows drew together. That wasn’t how she worked. That wasn’t how shesurvived.“But we need plans… I need plans,” she stressed softly, each word trembling at the edge of her fears. “I need to plan things out.”

He didn’t flinch. He just smiled, a slow curve that made her want to scream and sigh all at once. “Then go ahead,” he said easily, his smile widening. “I hear opposites attract, and we’re a little opposite – aren’t we?”

Karen’s lips parted with disbelief. “We’rea lotof opposites.”

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