The arena lights flash, the crowd roaring as the puck slams into the boards and Levi all but barrels someone over to steal it back. I wince on instinct, gripping the armrest beside me, but the second the whistle doesn't blow, I breathe again.

"He's such a menace," Aster says beside me, laughing into her cup of popcorn. "Does he have an off switch?"

"Nope," I reply, popping a peanut M&M into my mouth. "Pretty sure he was born like that. Fully formed, and ready to bodycheck a man."

Laughter ripples around the family box as Tobias skates into frame, looping around with the kind of grace that makes it obvious he's in his element. Jason's just ahead, his number bold and sharp on the back of his jersey. Every time he moves, I feel it somewhere deep in my chest. Like gravity just... bends toward him.

A warm weight shifts beside me, and I glance down to where Rose is cradling a sleeping baby, her almost one year old son fast asleep with his fists curled near his chin. A pacifier bobs gently between his lips, and Rose rubs slow circles over his chest with a dreamy look on her face.

"Is he actually sleeping through this?" I whisper, gesturing at the chaos happening just below us on the ice.

"Out like a light," Rose grins proudly. "He gets it from his dad and he's used to the hustle and bustle of the rink."

"Matt tells me Tobias used to sleep through literal fire alarms in college," Aster adds from the other side of Rose, sipping from a thermos. "This baby's unbothered by life."

"I love that for him," I mutter, watching Rose sway the bundle gently. "What's it like having a perfect little man?" I reach over, running a finger over one of his chubby cheeks but they're not as chubby as they used to be.

Rose's grin softens into something sweeter. "Terrifying and amazing and exhausting and magical. Kind of like falling in love."

I glance down at the rink, eyes drawn again to Jason.

He's skating hard, determined, completely locked in and yet somehow, when he passes by our side of the rink, his head tilts just enough to glance up toward the box. Just a flicker of connection. Barely a second. But it finds me.
And I feel everything.

I lean back in the seat and soak it in. This strange, beautiful, normal life I never thought I'd get. There's laughter around me, popcorn crunching, the baby sighs in his sleep, and Jason is on the ice doing what he loves.

And me?

I'm not hiding anymore.

Not from my past. Not from my own heart.

After everything that's happened, every reason I gave myself to keep my walls up, I finally let someone in. Him in.

Jason, who sees every version of me and still loves me.

Jason, who's skating out there with that quiet confidence I used to find so infuriating, and now? It just makes me proud.

Matt cokes and sits beside us in that moment, passing us each a drink he'd gotten us and a hotdog to aster eh smiles gratefully and lets him sit between us.

He looks between the three os us with a raised brow. "What are we talking about?"

"Milo." I answer, looking towards the little boy and Matt grins, tugging on one of his little fingers gently before letting go.

And then he says something I never expected.

"When are you going to give us a little version of Jason?"

I nearly choke on my M&M.

Rose barks a laugh and Aster lifts a brow that's way too knowing.

"I—no. We are not doing this here," I say, flapping my hand at them as heat rushes to my cheeks. I level a glare at my brother. "And you did not just ask me that."

"What?" He says with a cheery smile. "It's just a question."

"Which is none of your business. I- we-" I cut off with a huff.

"But you've talked about it," Aster grins.

"Jason definitely has a spreadsheet," Matt adds.

"You're all the worst," I mutter, but I'm not upset, cheeks aching from how much I'm smiling.

Down on the ice, Jason scores at the last second and the stadium explodes. Everyone's on their feet. He throws his arms up, teammates mobbing him, and even from here, I can see the joy in his face and the feel the energy from the crowd.

He looks up at me, finding me in the crowd and smiles, pride filling him.

Because he just played his last game.

• • •

The hallway leading toward the locker room is warm with post-game energy, half buzz, half adrenaline and I'm not even supposed to be here.

But technically, no one said I couldn't be.

I slip past the last security guy with a half-smile and a confident little wave like I belong in this part of the stadium. No one questions it.

The locker room door creaks open and immediately hits me with the scent of soap, sweat, and the sharp tang of deodorant. It's dimmer than I expect, the overhead lights low. Most of the team's already cleared out.

Except for two figures.

Levi's sitting on the bench, half-dressed, scrolling his phone while Jason disappears behind a row of lockers, a towel slung low around his hips.

Levi looks up just as I step inside. His eyebrows climb halfway to his forehead. "You're either very lost or very bold."

"Bit of both," I grin.

Jason's voice calls from behind the lockers. "Levi, you seen my—"

He steps out right then, towel riding dangerously low, water still dripping from his hair. He stops when he sees me, head tilting slightly, brow arched with curiosity, and heat.

Levi doesn't wait for the awkward tension to build. He gets to his feet immediately, lifting his hands in mock surrender as he backs toward the exit.

"Nope. Not sticking around for this," he mutters, smirking. "I value my sanity. And my vision."

"Bye, Levi," I chirp, barely holding back a laugh.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he calls, and then he's gone.

The second the door clicks shut behind him, Jason's entire expression shifts.

The playful surprise melts into something darker. Hungrier.

He doesn't say anything at first, just studies me from across the room, water glistening on his chest, that damn towel the only thing standing between me and a total loss of composure.

"What are you doing in here?" he asks, voice lower now. Rough.

I shrug innocently, stepping forward. "Maybe I got lost."

"Arden." His voice sharpens slightly, one brow raised.

My lips twitch. "Maybe I wanted to congratulate you in person. You did just play your best, and last game."

He smirks, takes a slow step toward me, and crooks his finger. "Then come here."

I don't hesitate.

He meets me halfway, grabbing my waist with one hand and walking me backward until my spine hits the tiled wall of the shower corridor. His other hand tugs at the knot of the towel, letting it drop. My breath catches, heat blooming low in my belly.

"Jason—someone could come in," I murmur, even though I'm already tilting my head to kiss him and I was the one who started this little game.

"They won't," he murmurs back, brushing his lips over mine. "And even if they did..."

He lifts me with an effortless motion, my legs wrapping around his waist as the shower door swings open behind him. Steam curls around us as he steps inside and turns the water on - warm, cascading down his back as he presses me to the cold tile.

"You really couldn't wait?" he whispers against my neck, kissing down the line of it as I tug his hair.

"You're one to talk," I gasp when he nips gently at my collarbone. "You looked up at me every time you passed our side of the rink."

"I can't help it," he murmurs, mouth trailing lower. "You're always the only thing I see."

The water is loud now, his body hotter than the stream pouring over us. My shirt clings to me instantly, and Jason wastes no time helping me out of it—fingers finding the hem, peeling it over my head, lips never leaving my skin.

My bra follows, and then his mouth is on me, tongue teasing, hands roaming, and I don't care about the cold tile or the echo in the room. I don't care about anything except the way his hands feel on my skin and the hard press of him between my legs.

"Tell me you missed me," he murmurs against my chest.

"I missed you," I pant, head tipping back.

"Louder."

I grab his face and kiss him hard, pulling him even closer. "I missed you."

He groans, low and dark, and presses inside me with one smooth motion.

The breath whooshes out of me, my back arching, arms clinging to his shoulders as he thrusts into me, deep and slow and maddening. The steam swirls around us, the tile slick beneath my palms, and all I can hear is the slap of skin and the sound of my name on his lips like a vow.

We fall apart together, messy and wet and laughing as we slide down to the floor of the shower, water pouring over us while the outside world slips away.

And when we finally emerge, breathless and flushed, Jason grabs a towel, wraps it around me this time, and grins like a man who knows exactly what he just did.

I kiss him again, biting his lip softly.

"Just a warning," I whisper, "The girls are waiting to hassle you about a baby." I whisper, feeling nervous flutters erupt in my stomach.

"A what?" Jason's mutters, his hold tightening on me as he looks down with an arched brow, curious.

"Aster and Rose are in a nosey mood, they want to know when you and I are going to give Milo a baby cousin." I roll my eyes playfully but don't tell him that it was actually my brother who had started the round of questions.

Jason shakes his head, looking down at me with a different type of heat in his eyes. "Hopefully soon." He mutters lowly, swooping down to place a kiss on my temple.

"What?" I hush, coming to a stop.

"Hopefully soon." He repeats, louder twisting so he's in front of me with his arms wrapped around me, cocooning us in our own little bubble.

"How soon?" I whisper back, nervous energy filling me.

"As soon as you want them?"

"Like-" I do the quick mental math. "Thirty weeks?"

My periods have never been regular so I didn't notice but when I finally realised it's been a bit too long. I took a test.

"Thirty weeks?" Jason repeats, looking confused. "Babies take about nine months to cook, Arden, and I don't know about you but that's like . . . " he trails off as he realises what I'm saying and then he's just standing silently in front of me with a slack mouth.

"Jason?" I whisper, looking between his eyes.

"You're pregnant?"

"Ten weeks." I say softly, nodding.

"You're pregnant?" He says again and I nod, again, feeling more nervous as the time passes.

"I'm going to be a father." He hushes and I smile, still nodding.  "You're going to be the mother of my babies?" He whispers again and I feel a small laugh leave me as I continue to nod.

"Holy fuck." Jason whispers, but his face is full of happiness as he wraps an arm around me and lifts me, spinning around.

"We're going to be parents, holy shit." He continues spinning until abruptly he stops and puts me down, looking sick. "Oh crap, I shouldn't be spinning you a round. Can I still spin you around like that?" He mutters almost to himself and then his eyes widen more. "I just had you against the locker room wall." He looks scared. "We can't do that again, holy crap what if we hurt the baby?" He runs a hand through his hair, "can we even have sex?"

A laugh slips from my lips as I nod, trying to calm him down. "Yes, we can. No it won't hurt the baby. Everything is fine and everything will be fine. Stop worrying."

"I'm going to be a father." Is all he says back, still looking shocked and in awe.

"You're going to be a father." I repeat and Jason wraps me in his arms again, pulling me into the safe confines of his arms, his lips slipping across my forehead in a kiss as he murmurs.

"I love you."

I snuggle closer, sighing. "I love you too."