Page 74 of Hard Check

"My parents love each other. Twenty-seven years, and they still hold hands in the car."

"I noticed." His thumb traced across my knuckles. "They love you, too. It's obvious."

"Yeah." I swallowed hard. "Which makes this harder, in some ways."

"This?"

I gestured between us with my free hand. "Hiding. Pretending you're just my mentor when you're..." I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

"When I'm what?"

"There was no reason to keep it from Carver anymore. I'd carried it around for so long it was starting to burn a hole through me.

"You're the one I—" My words faltered, so I shook my head and started again. "Every morning, before I even open my eyes, it's you. Then, at practice, sometimes I catch myself smiling like an idiot just because I remembered something you said."

I bit my lip. "And at night, when the lights are off, you're still in my head. Every damn night, whether we're together or not."

I forced myself to meet his eyes. "I don't know what that means, not fully. But I think… I think it means I'm falling for you."

His fingers tightened around mine.

I rushed on, afraid I'd lose the nerve. "I know it's complicated. I know there are rules and lines and everything in between, and I know this isn't easy for either of us. Still, sitting there today, watching my parentslikeyou, and realizing they could… theycouldknow you—really know you—and maybe still love me just the same…"

My throat closed. I coughed and tried again. 'I want that. Not now. Not tomorrow. But someday. I want them to know. I want everyone to know.'

He didn't say anything; he just looked at me like he saw through every layer I'd ever tried to keep hidden.

'You're not just a mentor or a teammate. You're not just a friend. You're… shit, Carver, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. And yeah, maybe that's a cliché, but I don't care. It's the truth.'"

The silence that followed was complete except for the soft sounds from the television and the distant hum of traffic outside. Carver stared at me, his thumb still moving in gentle circles across my skin.

For a terrifying moment, I thought I'd said too much and crossed a line we couldn't uncross. Then his free hand came up to cup my face, fingers warm against my jaw.

The words continued to tumble out. "I think I want the whole world to know, and not because I need validation or because I want to make some grand statement. But because hiding this feels like lying about the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Someday," Carver said, his voice rough with emotion.

It wasn't a promise exactly, but it wasn't a rejection either. It was acknowledgment, possibility, and hope wrapped in a single word.

"Someday," I agreed.

We stayed on the couch like that for a long time, hands clasped, while animated characters celebrated the holiday on the screen. The fear wasn't gone—might never be completely gone—but something steadier was growing in its place.

Something that felt like courage.

When Carver finally kissed me, it was soft and slow.

"Your parents really did like me," he murmured against my lips.

"They loved you," I corrected. "Just like I do."

Chapter nineteen

Carver

ThetunnelatAugustaMemorial Arena reeked of stale beer and decades-old sweat. It made my stomach churn more than usual.

I pressed my shoulder against the cinder block wall and watched my teammates file past toward the ice—TJ adjusting his helmet strap for the third time and Mercier muttering what sounded like prayers or curses under his breath.

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