Page 137 of Moms of Mayhem
Shannon leaned against the Mayhem’s bus, looking equal parts bored and elated. “I swear to God, if I see that ref in a grocery store, I’m slashing his tires.”
Lori chuckled from the folding chair someone had offered her, cane resting across her knees. Her Mayhem beanie was slightly crooked and her face lit up with pride.
And then the doors opened.
The kids poured out, gear bags slung over shoulders, dress shirts half-untucked, cheeks still red from the locker room. Parents erupted into cheers and applause, a tidal wave of celebration.
Molly and Delgado were smiling like they’d won the lottery, leading the players down the line of celebrations. Miles gave high-fives like a pro, pausing only to hug his little sister. Every single one of them was glowing.
Jace came out last, hair wet from the shower and grin so wide it lit up his whole face. He looked up, found me in the crowd, and waved. Not just ahey momwave—a full arm pump, like he knew I’d been ready to storm the ice myself.
I waved back, laughing through tears.
Ryan was nowhere to be seen. He’d left before the final buzzer, too proud or too petty to stick around and face everything he’d lost.
I hated that for Jace’s sake. Some part of me had always hoped Ryan would realize his mistakes and try harder, rather than pass blame. Not for me, not to fix whatcouldn’t be repaired, but to at least show up for his son when it mattered most.
But he didn’t. And as much as that still stung, the ache was softened by the man who chose to show up not out of obligation, but because he wanted to be here.
As if summoned by my thoughts, Beckett walked through the crowd, his eyes locked on mine like I was the only person that existed in the world.
Still in his Mayhem pullover, sweat-damp hair curling at the edges, walking like nothing and no one could keep him from me. Ty was a step behind him holding the giant State trophy, letting him go ahead like he knew exactly where Beckett needed to be.
He didn’t hesitate. Just walked right through the chaos, past the noise and the crowd.
Beckett pulled me in like gravity itself had written this moment into existence. One hand on my waist, the other curling behind my neck, and then his mouth was on mine—firm, warm, and full of everything we’d held back while the world watched.
My hands fisted in his shirt, my feet barely remembering how to stay on the ground.
Someone wolf-whistled, and we broke apart.
Shannon crossed her arms and muttered, “Finally, the world’s worst-kept secret is out.”
Stevie gasped like she hadn’t been in on it for months. “Okay,but still! Public kissing? This is officially official.”
Luke snorted. “They kissed in public in December. That seemed kind of official.”
“Please.” Tate shook her head. “Have you seen how lovesickhe is?”
“He came to girls’ night with queso,” Shannon said flatly. “That was basically a proposal.”
Lori leaned over from her folding chair, eyes glinting with feral grandma glee. “I’m taking out afull pagein next week’s paper. Right next to the obits and the fire department spaghetti dinner.”
Beckett pulled back just enough to look over his shoulder, smirked, and called, “Make it a two-page spread, Mom. Front and back. I look good from every angle. Everyone needs to know she’s mine.”
Lori cackled. Shannon groaned. Stevie, misty-eyed and clutching her heart, whispered, “I love love.”
Beckett rested his forehead on mine, still holding me against his chest.
“Hi, Peach,” he said, softer now.
“Hey,” I murmured, still breathless.
Behind us, the Mayhem hoisted the trophy into the air, the crowd roaring one more time.
Ty clapped Jace on the back, then caught my eye and gave me a nod that was quiet, proud, and all heart.
I just leaned into Beckett’s arms and held on, buoyed in the moment. Because the life I’d been terrified to want—the love, the family, the hope I thought I’d lost—was here.
