Page 98 of Penalty Box
Cass turned bright red, laughing as one by one, the guys threw comments at us as they left. Soon enough, the locker room wasempty. Except for Coach, who came ambling out of his office. He lingered just long enough to look at us, his expression softening in a way I hadn’t seen before. Cass stiffened beside me, but her dad nodded at her.
“You’re good for him,” he said. “I figured it out weeks ago, but kept my mouth shut because I needed his head in the game.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t make me regret it,” he said, then gave us a rare smile. “Lock up when you’re finished.”
The door clicked shut, and I turned to Cass. The beginnings of tears misted up her eyes and her cheeks still burned red.
“Did that just happen?”
I didn’t give her more time to process, and swept her into another kiss. Rougher, more purposeful. The tension that had built all day, all series, dissolved to nothing.
“Up for a shower?” I murmured against her lips.
“With you? Always.”
We stumbled toward the stalls in a flurry of clumsy kisses and groping, pulling off random items of clothing, knocking into a bench, a wall, each other. Water jetted out, and steam curled around us.
I didn’t care that we lost. I didn’t care that the Cup was still out of reach.
Because she was with me. Mine.
And I was hers.
Epilogue
Cass
The off-season had hit a welcome exhale, and instead of lazing around, I threw myself headfirst into my new internship at Sprocket & Sons Equipment Co. It was a family-run operation, but everything I needed to cut my teeth as a mechanic.
I was elbow-deep in the belly of a backhoe when the scent of fresh bread and roast beef caught my nose. Mason ducked into my workshop right as I looked up, a brown paper bag in one hand and two sodas tucked under his arm. His smile found me fast, like it always did.
“I told you the last time,” I said, wiping my hands as I walked over to greet him. “Keep this up and I’m going to start expecting regular lunch picnics.”
He bent down to kiss me. A brief, sweet testament to what we’d been through and how thankful we were to be here. Together.
“I’d build you your own lunch restaurant if you wanted,” he said, and held up the bag. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“Ravenous. And kind of turned on by your sandwich-making skills.”
“Lucky me,” he murmured, and kissed me again, deep and slow.
We sat on the steps outside the shop, the summer sun warm on our backs. He passed me a sandwich, carefully wrapped, and I bit in without hesitation.
“God, that’s good,” I moaned through a mouthful. “I love you.”
“I love you,” he said, nudging me with his shoulder. “How’s work? Did you ever get the recall on that tractor you told me about?”
I rolled my eyes. “It seems red tape is what holds the world together. They’re only slightly better at it here than at the arena.”
Mason laughed softly, and took another bite of his sandwich. “Good job, Cass. You waited two extra minutes before asking about the Frost Bank Center. Beat your record from my last visit.”
“Shut up,” I said with a light chuckle. “But also tell me… I need my fix.”
“It’s quiet,” he replied with a shrug. “Feels emptier without you there, and that just makes me miss you more. Your dad’s the only one who’s happy though.”
“Because his golden boy’s not getting distracted?”
