Page 75 of Stick Fight

Maybe I’m afraid that deep down, a part of him agrees with everything I’ve been too scared to say out loud.

That the quiet life we’ve carved out together isn’t enough.

That he missesthe old world.

That sooner or later, he’ll want it back.

And when he does…

Where does that leave us?

21

Roman

“We’ll get ‘em next year,” Noah says, slinging an arm around my shoulder like we hadn’t recently had our hearts ripped out on the ice. “Hell of a season, rookie.”

He holds up his beer with a proud grin, and I tap mine against his. “Yeah,” I say. Shit, losing game five to Montreal still stings like hell, but we fought hard. That’s something.

“Vegas, baby!” Jaxon bellows from behind us. I turn just in time to catch him grinning ear to ear, a girl I don’t recognize tucked under his arm like a trophy. Vegas. Right. Taylor and Elias’s upcoming wedding, and a party everyone is looking forward to after playoffs.

Gabby and I hadn’t talked much about it, about the fact that there’s no way in hell she’ll set foot in the Hart Hotel again. And I get it. I do. After everything that happened, I wouldn’t ask her to. So yeah, I’m going solo. But it’s more than that. If she’s not by my side, the trip is going to be long and brutal. But I can’t not go. This is Elias and Taylor we’re talking about.

My eyes drift around the pool deck until I spot Gabby laughing in the water with Stella, her face lit up under the string of lights and I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips. God, she’s beautiful when she lets herself have fun. Ever since she came out with us to Kilting Around and realized her world wouldn’t collapse—her ex nowhere in sight—she’s been relaxed more. Letting herself belong.

There’s been a lot of whispering between her and Maeve lately and a lot of texting…with someone. Maybe it has something to do with book club. Or maybe something else. Whatever it is, it suits her. She seems really happy and I love that.

As for her ex. I don’t ask. Don’t need to. She’s not texting him, and even if I don’t know who she is texting, I trust her. I’ve never felt this steady with anyone before. Still, I know the ache she carries. She misses her parents, and I know her visit with them in California when I’m in Vegas is going to be good for her.

But that’s not the only visit she’s looking forward to. Nolan’s flying in tomorrow. I’ve been dodging it for long enough, but the truth is, I’m done hiding what Gabby and I have. I want my brother to meet her, to seeus. Yeah, he’ll probably drag up the past and remind me of every fight my parents ever had. But I’m not them. We’re not them. He’ll get that. He has to.

“Rara.” Stella’s voice breaks through my thoughts. She waves at me with a cheeky smile and water droplets shining on her long lashes. She’s a combination of Tanner and Maeve. If Gabby and I had a child, I’d want it to look like her.

“You coming in?” Gabby asks.

“Yeah,” I say, setting down my beer. “I’m coming.”

Zoe and Camryn run to the edge of the pool and cannonball, soaking me. Gabby tosses her head back in laughter, and when Zoe and Camryn come up, they’re both laughing too.

“I guess I don’t need to get in now.” I point to them. “You two better watch out,” I warn teasingly, but they swim off and ignore me.

I wipe the water from my face and sink into the lounge chair, the cushion still warm from the sun. Around me, laughter rolls through the air like background music to the perfect day. Noah tosses more food onto the barbecue, flames licking upward as the smell of burgers starts to drift across the rooftop pool area. I tip my head back, let it all soak in.

This. Right here. This is home. My chosen family, every last one of them. I must be the luckiest bastard alive. Theo walks by and grunts something my way. We’re all secretly happy that he’s being traded. I raise an eyebrow but don’t bother asking what his problem is. I’m too damn content to care.

My phone pings, and I fish it out of my pocket. It’s Nolan. We go back and forth for a few minutes, and I can’t help but smile. I miss the guy. It’s been too long. And I can’t wait for him to meet Gabby. They didn’t really cross paths back home. He was younger, trailing a couple grades behind us. But there’s no doubt in my mind they’ll click. I want them to. I want him to see what I see when I look at her. I want him to see that the pattern can be broken.

Mom and Dad always blamed their fights on stress. For Gabs and me, it hasn’t been like that behind closed doors. We’ve been in hiding, under a tremendous amount of stress after she lost everything, the ghost of her past still lingering in the shadows. We didn’t fight. We united, dug in, fought hard for each other…made love.

Guilt niggles at my gut. Did I do wrong by him? Make him as jaded as me? If I did, I need to fix that. I want him to find what I’ve found. I want him to be happy. To break the pattern and realize that behind closed doors, it can be good. Really good.

Ash drops down beside me with a groan, pulling his cap over his face. The poor guy looks like he’s been through battle. I guess fatherhood will do that to you. Still, there’s a calmness to him now. Like everything has meaning.

Across the patio, I spot Ash’s father Grant cradling little Grant Jr., rocking him gently. There’s a gleam in the older man’s eyes, pride, love, maybe even awe, and something about the scene grips me harder than I expect.

What would my parents be like as grandparents?

Sure, in public they’d be perfect. Polished. Camera-ready. They’d throw parties with engraved invitations and matching gift bags. Behind closed doors would be a different story, and while I’d want my child to know them, I don’t want them to see that life.

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