Page 45 of Much Ado About Hockey

She swallowed hard, her eyes misting despite her effort to keep them clear. His words weren’t flowery or rehearsed—they were raw, vulnerable. They touched something deep in her, something she’d kept hidden out of fear she was never enough, that all of this wasn’t real.

“I know you get nervous,” he breathed softly, leaning just a little closer, “But you aren’t alone. I would never abandon you in some crowd of strangers. I would hold your hand, introduce you, and show you off as my wife – and those other guys can look at theirmediocrespouses and be jealous all night long of what I’ve got going for me.”

Karen’s breath hitched—half laugh, half sob—and then a full laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it. It was disbelieving, almost incredulous, and she turned away quickly, not wanting him to see the amusement trembling on her face.

But he was already chuckling beside her, unbothered, amused by his own honesty.

“It’s true – those other chicks are mediocre, at best. I swear!” he teased. “I hit the jackpot in that weird little bookstore when I spottedyou.”

When she turned back to look at him, the smile they shared was electric. It said more than any of their earlier silences ever could. It saidI see you. I like you. I’m here whenever you’re ready.

“You’re sweet.”

Those two words felt lame, but Karen needed something to fill the gap because her heart was spiraling wildly out of control. She hadn’t meant to fall—hadn’t even realized she was teetering so close to the edge—but the moment the words left his lips combined with this evening, these looks, these moments— everything inside her tilted and gave way.

“Only to you, Nutella.”

And that—that—was the moment her heart gave in completely. Something in his tone, soft and reverent, wrapped around her like a whispered promise straight into her deepest, most vulnerable spots within her. Like a dam collapsing, the water behind it rushed forth just like her feelings, finally free… that was her heart, her soul, her everything.

She was in love with Jett – and perilously close to blurting out the words. Instead, she laughed, trying to ground herself, even as her chest fluttered with something dangerously close to panic and fear that he was going to shatter her heart someday.

“Why do you insist on calling me that?” she asked, the chuckle catching slightly at the end, betraying her nerves.

He sighed as if the answer was obvious as if he’d been waiting for this question for far too long. “Maaaan,” he said dramatically, rolling his eyes in a way that made her lips curve upward. “How do you not know this?”

“I don’t,” she said, voice quieter now, the smile still lingering but unsure. She searched his expression, feeling the sudden weight of the moment shift around them like the hush before a storm.

His gaze met hers, and something in his posture changed—subtly, but undeniably. He seemed to settle, shoulders dropping, breath deepening, like he was finally ready to say some earthshattering proclamation that had lived inside him for far too long.

She waited, her own breath suspended, feeling the beat of her heart echo like a drum in her ears.

He inhaled—loudly, deliberately, almost exaggerated, but it didn’t make her smile this time. It only made her wait harder, watch closer, feel deeper.

“Nutella is God’s gift to chocolate lovers everywhere,” he began, his voice lower now, slower, more intimate – and she held her breath, mesmerized. “Once you’ve tasted it, there is no going back. It’s sweet, rich, but not overpowering… and completely unforgettable,” he whispered softly, his eyes holding hers as if afraid to blink and miss the truth reflected there.

Karen’s lungs burned, unable to breathe or move for fear of ruining the moment, that it would fade or disappear. She refused to budge an inch, unwilling to blink an eye, and dared not look away.

She couldn’t.

“Sometimes it hits you when you least expect it and think, ‘Oh man, I really need a taste,’and other times, you struggle against it, knowing that if you taste it – you are going to lose yourself in the container like an alcoholic diving into a bottle,” he continued, and there was something raw in his voice now, something almost trembling. “That taste is exquisite, unmatched by anything, and that’s you.”

Her throat tightened, emotion rising so fast and so sharp it nearly overwhelmed her. She pulled in a shaky breath, trying to steady herself, but there was no fighting the heat that swelled behind her eyes. His gaze, deep brown and completely unguarded, pierced straight through every defense she had left.And still, she didn’t look away. She couldn’t—not when his words reached every scar, every longing, every dream she’d hidden away.

“You are my Nutella – exquisite, unmatched, a gift from God, and sweeter than anything I’ve ever tasted when I kissed your lips at our wedding.”

She swallowed hard, voice small, a whisper barely louder than the pounding in her chest. “You said that was barely a kiss…”

“I think if I kissed you for decades, it would never be enough.”

Her heart cracked open under the weight of those words. And there it was. All the love, all the longing, all the hope she’d tried so hard not to feel—suddenly alive, burning, and impossibly beautiful.

“Kiss me,” she whispered, her voice trembling with urgency. The words slipped out before she could think better of them, driven by a longing so sharp it hurt. She needed this - him - more than she wanted to admit, and the vulnerability of it scared her senseless. The second the words left her mouth, she braced herself, expecting the usual from him.

Some snide remark.

A teasing grin.

One of his smart-mouthed comebacks to defuse the tension and send them both skidding mentally onto safe ground.

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