Page 117 of Cross Check Daddies

---

And she smiles. Her voice is soft, broken in the best way. “I love you.”

She says it once, but it’s for all of us.

And we know it.

Epilogue

TANNER

Coach Leo is tryingto kill us.

Not literally. But definitely emotionally. And maybe spiritually.

We’re two hours into drills, and I swear I’ve skated the width of the rink more times than I blinked last night. I glance at the scoreboard. The clock doesn’t move. My thighs are burning. My lungs feel like a collapsing paper bag.

And for what?

“Didn’t we just win the Stanley Cup?” I mutter to Beau, who’s doubled over beside me on the bench.

He grunts something unintelligible. I think it’s agreement. Or a death rattle.

Coach Leo blows the whistle again. “Again!”

Asher curses softly. “I thought victory meant rest.”

“I thought it meant breathing,” I mutter.

I pull my helmet off, rake a hand through my hair, and seriously consider pretending to twist my ankle just for an excuse to stop when I hear footsteps pounding down the hallway behind the boards.

Cam bursts in. “Tanner!”

I stand instantly. “What happened?”

He doesn’t even slow down. “Ace just called. They were at the dog park with Brooke—her water broke!”

“What?!”

“She’s at the hospital now!”

I don’t even put my helmet back on. I’m flying across the rink, gear clattering, jersey sticking to my back. Coach Leo yells something, but I don’t hear it. Cam’s right beside me, both of us laughing like lunatics even though we’re barely breathing.

“She’s early,” I say as we shove our way into the locker room.

“She’s been saying shefeltearly for days.”

“I thought she meant bloated!”

I barely change before we’re sprinting out the side entrance and into Cam’s car. He peels off like a man possessed. I’m already texting Ace.

>>En route. Is she okay?

Ace’s responses right away.

>>Focused. In pain. Holding my hand like she’s trying to rip it off. Drive faster.

We do.

By the time we reach the hospital, Brooke’s already in delivery. Ivy meets us in the waiting area, hair thrown in a knot and hospital coffee in hand.

---