Page 52 of Heart Checked By the Hockey Heartthrob

“Today was awesome.”

Wes ruffles his hair. “You were awesome.”

As they walk away, I stand quietly next to Wes.

He slips his hand into mine. “I know it’s early. But if I get to be part of this kind of day—even just some of the time—I’ll never need anything else.”

I squeeze his fingers. “You already are.”

And with that, we watch the town we love glow softly in the warm light of a community that, somehow, brought us back together.

Not with fanfare.

But with heart.

***

The next afternoon, we gather for an impromptu picnic near the lake. Liz and Griff bring a checkered blanket and a basket full of her famous chicken salad wraps. Beckett and Abby show up a little later, Violet bouncing on Abby’s hip while Jake insists on skipping rocks across the water.

The air smells like cut grass and grilled corn from a vendor cart down the hill. Someone has set up lawn games—cornhole, ring toss, and even an old-fashioned potato sack race that Wes somehow gets roped into judging.

I sit with Liz under the shade of a birch tree, both of us sipping lemonade. "You know," she says, watching Wes run a three-legged race with Jake, "you two fit. Like, really fit."

I smile. "It’s starting to feel that way."

Griff tosses a frisbee to Beckett, who pretends to miss and gets Violet giggling from Abby’s lap. There’s music playing softly from someone’s Bluetooth speaker—a playlist full of country ballads and soft rock hits.

Wes returns with Jake in tow, both breathless and red-faced. “I maintain that he cheated,” Wes says.

Jake beams. “You’re just old.”

We all laugh, and the moment feels timeless.

Later, Wes and I sneak away down a wooded trail that leads to a quiet overlook above the lake. We spread a blanket on the grass, the afternoon sun filtering through the trees.

“I used to think I didn’t belong in places like this even though I grew up right here,” Wes says softly. “Like I’d never be the kind of guy who could settle into a life like this one. After our folks died it was all out work to raise Liz and give her what she deserved for her childhood.”

I rest my head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to change who you are to fit here. You’re enough—exactly as you are. It’s hard for me to understand, Wes, because you were born and grew up here.”

He kisses the top of my head. “You make me want to be here forever.”

We fall into a comfortable silence, listening to the chirping birds and to distant laughter echoing from the lake.

Back at the main picnic we’re pulled back into the crowd as Liz brings out a basket of fresh-baked cookies, and everyone gathers for a group photo. Abby tries to wrangle the kids, Beckett sets up his phone on a rock, and Griff pretends to photobomb just as the timer goes off.

We pile onto the blanket, a mess of limbs and laughter and half-eaten cupcakes.

Later, as the sun sets and fireflies begin to dance in the air, I find myself curled beside Wes under a shared blanket. He leans over and whispers, “Quinn, I want more days like this. With you. With them. Always.”

My heart swells. “Then let’s keep building them. One memory at a time.”

And in that golden, fading light, with our friends and family all around us, I know we already are.

Chapter twenty

Quinn

I’m still smiling from the other day. From the way Wes looked at me during the couples' skate, the easy way he joked with Jake, the kiss that tasted like powdered sugar and promises. The kind that lingers even after the crowd fades.

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