Page 6 of Heart Checked By the Hockey Heartthrob

She opens the closet and grabs the toolbox just as the power snaps off entirely.

Everything plunges into darkness.

“What the—?”

Jake yells from the dining room, “Did the lights DIE?”

Abby reassures him while Beckett grumbles about the fuse box. But Quinn and I are now… alone. In the dark. Trapped.

“Guess the breaker’s in the basement,” Quinn says.

“Yeah, but Beckett keeps the key to the basement door in the garage,” I reply. “And the back door’s locked because of the baby gate. And we’ve got the toolbox wedged behind us.”

We both turn—and sure enough, the toolbox has fallen and jammed the door closed. I jiggle the handle, but it doesn’t budge.

“Seriously?”

“Perfect,” Quinn mutters. “Just perfect.”

We’re standing inches apart, barely able to see each other.

And now my heart’s racing faster than it ever did on the ice.

“You okay?” I ask quietly.

“Fine,” she says. “Unless you’re hiding a flashlight.”

I chuckle. “Sorry. Just hockey tape and a spare mouthguard.”

We both laugh. And it’s real this time.

For a beat, the tension eases. It feels like it used to. Comfortable. Close.

Then her voice softens. “You remembered the socks.”

I swallow. “I remember a lot of things.”

“Doesn’t mean they matter anymore.”

“I think they do,” I say before I can stop myself.

Silence.

Then a whisper: “Why now, Wes?”

I can barely see her, but I feel her looking at me. Not justatme—throughme.

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I’ve thought about that a thousand times. I didn’t come back just to mess things up more.”

“So whydidyou come back?”

I hesitate. “Because nothing else felt like home.”

Her breath catches. I hear it.

And that’s when the hallway light flickers back on—harsh and sudden.

We both blink, caught like deer in headlights. Close. Too close.

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