Page 178 of The Overtime Kiss

And the second—no, the nanosecond—Tyler breaks free, I stop thinking.

I move. Like lightning, pushing past the gate to the ice, rushing out there, racing to my man.

And it’s not for the crocheted dogs. It’s for Number Forty-Four.

I fly across the arena, right into his waiting arms, and I jump up into them.

“I love you too, Tyler Falcon.”

He whips off his helmet. He’s sweaty, breathing hard, and he crushes his lips to mine. Him in his jersey, me in my sparkly sequined costume, kissing in front of the whole entire crowd.

I swear I can hear all my friends, and a little boy and a little girl I love cheering for us as we start over.

I never thought I’d have this—a love that’s real, a love that’s safe, one that’s bold and unafraid. But now I do, in the center of the rink, under all the lights, with this man kissing me like I’m his world.

When he breaks the kiss, he says, “You know what this means? You’re coming home with me.Upstairs. And that’s where you’ll stay.”

“Good. Because I love you,” I say again, because I can, because I mean it, and because he’s the one for me.

“And I love you so much.”

Then he gives me another overtime kiss.

50

SHINE ON

Tyler

With one hand wrapped around her gift, I reach for her palm and we walk back into the rink. All the crowds have filtered out, the crocheted dogs have been thrown, and my kids have gone home with their mom. My teammates and most of the crew have taken off for the night. But before we can truly start over, we need some real talk.

Best to have it here—by the place where we both feel most at home. The ice. It’s also where this big love started for me. We walk through the tunnel, past the players’ bench, and into the second row, where we sit down.

“We need to talk,” I say as I set down the bag with the present.

“We do,” she says softly.

I tuck a strand of shiny blonde hair behind her ear. “Have I told you I love you?”

She smiles. “Only a few times.”

“Get ready for me to say it over and over again,” I say, butthen I clear my throat. “I should have said this sooner—that I love you. I should have said something the other night. Instead, I choked. I shut down because I thought you were shutting down. And I didn’t want to be another person who hurt you. I was a dumbass and thought I was being noble. News flash: I wasn’t noble. I was a chicken. But I am so sorry I hurt you. I never want to hurt you.”

She gives a soft, forgiving smile. “I know that. I think I knew it all along. I just tried to deny it because…” Her smile vanishes. “Everything hurt after my dad showed up.”

“Of course it did, baby,” I say, stroking her cheek.

“But I should have told you the details, Tyler. I should have told you what was going on. I should have insisted we talk that night. I was just so leveled out from the confrontation that I went into perfectionist mode, and that’s not fair to you.”

I squeeze her hand. “And I read everything wrong. I thought I was too much for you. With the kids and?—”

She squeezes my hand even harder. “You dumbass, I love your kids.”

My throat tightens. I roll my lips together, fighting off the swell of emotions. “You do?” Am I dreaming? Is she really saying that?

“Of course I do,” she says, her eyes swimming with tears. “They’re wonderful little humans. Luna is so outgoing and enthusiastic, so bright and happy, so tough and strong. She’s you and Elle. And Parker is serious and surprisingly funny. He’s inquisitive and more loving than I’d ever imagined. He’s like a cat. And Luna’s like a dog. And you know I love animals, and I just love them so much. I love all of you.”

I didn’t think a moment could be more perfect. But I was wrong. This is. And I fight like hell to stop the goddamn tears that are threatening to roll down my cheeks. But this woman? She loves my kids. I’m so far gone.

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