Page 60 of The Hockey Pact

"She didn't give details," Max said, pouring generous portions of amber liquid. "Just that Vincent tried to blackmail you and Riley, and that you both had to talk to Whitman."

We settled in the living room, the food spread out on the coffee table between us. As we ate, we filled them in on the meeting and discussed contingency plans if the photos leaked.

"The real relationship angle is your best defense," Max said thoughtfully. "Anyone who's spent more than ten minutes with you two can see it's not an act anymore."

"Was it that obvious?" I asked, embarrassed at how transparent we must have been.

Zoe snorted. "Please. You light up like a Christmas tree whenever he walks into a room."

"I do not," I protested, feeling heat rise in my cheeks.

"Yeah, you do," Max agreed. "And this guy's not much better. Remember that away game in Toronto when Riley couldn't come? Moped around like someone stole his favorite stick."

"Team morale issue," Caleb muttered into his whiskey. "Nothing to do with Riley."

"Sure, Captain," Max laughed. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Throughout the evening, I noticed how Zoe and Max exchanged glances, their formerly antagonistic dynamic evolved into something with unmistakable undercurrents. When Zoe reached for the last spring roll at the same time as Max, their fingers brushed. Instead of pulling away, they lingered, their teasing argument about who deserved it more lacking any real heat.

When Max left briefly to take a call from his agent, I raised a questioning eyebrow at Zoe.

She shrugged, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "What?"

"Something you want to tell me?"

Zoe fidgeted with her napkin. "He's not entirely the entitled jock I assumed, okay?" she admitted reluctantly. "We started hanging out after the winter menu preview event, back when your leg got injured. He was the one who organized the team to help clean everything up. And..."

She trailed off, but her expression told me everything I needed to know.

"And?" I prompted, unable to resist teasing her a little.

"And nothing," she insisted, but her blush deepened. "We're just... figuring things out."

I smiled, recognizing the same careful hesitation I'd felt with Caleb—that space between acknowledging feelings and deciding what to do about them.

Later, after our friends departed, Caleb and I found ourselves on the balcony. The early spring evening carried a chill that provided the perfect excuse to sit close, sharing warmth and the last of Max's whiskey.

"You've been quiet," Caleb observed, his eyes reflecting the city lights spread below us.

I swirled the whiskey in my glass, gathering courage. “Are you sure about us? What if this is merely a fling or something born out of proximity after all this time together?” I paused, searching his face for an answer.

He set his glass on the ledge and held my eyes. “I’m completely certain. This is not a fling and it isn’t just convenience. Nothing matters more to me than you, not even the captaincy.”

My heart raced at his confession. “When did it become real for you?” I whispered. “When did it change from acting into something genuine?”

He leaned back, considering. "I can't pinpoint the exact moment. It was gradual—your determination with the restaurant, how you handle the team families with genuine interest rather than obligation." His fingers traced patterns on the back of my hand. "Somewhere between contract clauses and morning coffee, I realized I wasn't acting anymore."

His admission resonated with my own experience.

"For me, I think it might have been your birthday," I confessed. "Planning that day, wanting it to be special for you—it wasn't about maintaining our image. I just wanted to make you happy."

The expression on his face then nearly took my breath away—open and vulnerable in a way I'd never seen before. He reached for me, his hands cupping my face with such tenderness that my heart stuttered.

"Riley," he whispered, and just my name on his lips felt like a declaration.

When he kissed me, it felt like honesty, like finally arriving somewhere I belonged. His lips moved against mine with deliberate intent, telling me things words couldn't fully express.

I melted into him, my hands sliding up his chest to wind around his neck. The balcony, the city, the world beyond us disappeared as we finally allowed ourselves to acknowledge what had been building between us for months.

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