25. Holly

Chapter 25

Holly

I watched from the door as Lucas trudged to his brother’s car through the fresh snow. His figure was solid, familiar, and so steady that it made my chest ache a little, and the fact he’d come back and kissed me in front of his brother was an admission of something, right? He paused before getting in, glancing back toward the cabin, but I stayed where I was, and at last, he slid into the passenger’s seat, and a moment later, taillights disappeared into the trees.

I exhaled as I shut the door, the cabin colder without him there. How was that possible?

You had the door open, idiot.

I should have gone with him. Or asked him to stay. But that would’ve been selfish, wouldn’t it? What we’d had could be a proximity thing and nothing more. All these feelings—this pull—was just because we’d been stuck in the same place, right?

I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts as I pulled on my boots and coat. The chickadee was still out there, perched on its branch like it owned the place, and I figured it was time to make good on my promise to feed it. I grabbed the bag of sunflower seeds and the little mesh feeder I’d picked up in town, setting them up on the nearest tree.

“You’re stubborn, you know that?” I muttered, tossing a handful of seeds onto the snow for good measure. The chickadee flitted down to the branch above me, its tiny head tilting as if it was listening. “I should’ve gone with him,” I said, brushing snow off the feeder. “But maybe it’s better this way. Time to think. Figure out if this is…. real, or just me being me, or him blinded to what he’d have to take on.”

The bird hopped closer, pecking at a seed, and I sighed. “Yeah, I’m talking to you again. Guess you’re better company than no one.”

Inside, the cabin was quiet, which made me aware of every creak and groan of the old wood. I tidied up aimlessly, folding a sweatshirt Lucas had borrowed and left on the arm of the couch. I straightened the board games we’d pulled out last night, stacking them in a neat pile in the corner. It wasn’t much, but it kept me busy, and at least my mind stopped spinning in circles around Lucas and everything unsaid between us.

I filled a couple of hours with aimless tasks, even cleaning the kitchen, which didn’t need cleaning.

The distant sound of an engine broke the quiet, and my heart leaped, hope blooming despite myself. I peered out to the window, but it wasn’t Duncan bringing Lucas back. It was a truck crawling up the snowy drive, the tires crunching loudly in the stillness. A flash of disappointment hit me, followed by guilt. I had no right to want Lucas to come back. Not after I’d told him I needed space. Him staying away was a credit to him.

The truck stopped, and Kai jumped out, bundled in layers against the cold. His face broke into a grin when he spotted me staring out of the window. I opened the door but hesitated, unsure what to do with my sudden swell of emotion at seeing him here.

“Is it safe to hug you or are you still contagious?” I called, stepping onto the porch as he stomped through the snow toward me.

Kai didn’t bother answering; he just yanked me into a hug, his arms wrapping around me with a strength I didn’t realize I needed. I clung to him for a moment, breathing in the scent of cedar and cold air, letting the warmth of his presence settle something deep in me.

When we pulled back, his hands stayed on my shoulders, his grin softening. “It’s good to see you safe up here, Holly.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat as I stepped back, gesturing toward the door. “Come inside. It’s freezing. The power is back on and I’m doing all the things in case I lose it again!”

Kai watched me make coffee and place frozen cookies on a tray—the same ones I’d made for Lucas what seemed like ages ago but had actually only been a few days. Muscle memory guided me through the motions as Kai’s questions filled the quiet.

“We haven’t spoken in a while,” he said, his voice still post-flu rough. He looked pale, washed out, and seemed to need to lean against the counter to stand upright. Should he even have driven up here?

“I’ve been working on things,” I countered. “You look like shit.”

“Nice to see you too,” Kai deadpanned and then smiled. “I feel better, thank you for asking.”

“Should you have driven up here?” I asked, but Kai smiled.

“No one could stop me.”

“Not even Bailey?” My words were clipped.

He frowned. “Bailey pushed me out of the door because in his words, I was ‘fretting’ like a kid missing his best friend during Christmas break.”

“Oh, cool.” What else could I say?

“How’s life been?” he asked, his tone casual, though I could feel the weight of the question.

“Different,” I said, keeping my eyes on the timer as baking smells filled the cabin. “Quiet.”

He nodded but didn’t push, shifting his stance as he crossed one ankle over the other. “And since the player support program? The rehab? Are you doing okay?”

“Better,” I said, though it came out more clipped than intended. “Mostly.”

Kai hummed softly, clearly not convinced, but he let it slide. I focused on the cookies as if I needed to watch them melt, spread, and turn brown. He didn’t say anything else for a while, letting the silence stretch as I made the coffee and tried to stop my hands trembling with the effort of holding myself together. This wasn’t like before—this wasn’t a panic attack—this was fear and a desperate need to make sure Kai knew I wasn’t a bad guy, that I owed him for getting me to help, and that I was sorry about everything I’d felt.

And then, before I could stop myself, I blurted it out.

“I blamed Bailey for you leaving the team. Kissed Lucas at your wedding and then threatened him never to tell anyone.”

The words hit the air like a thunderclap, loud and jarring, and for a second, Kai just blinked at me, stunned. His expression shifted from shock to something unreadable, and he slowly moved to the sofa, sitting down with a deliberate calmness that made my stomach churn.

“I loved Bailey way before I left the team,” he reminded me.

“I know.”

“But you’re gonna need to expand on the Lucas thing.”

“Shit.”

“Want to start from the beginning?” His voice was steady but firm, and it caused my chest to tighten.

I swallowed hard, wiping my hands on a towel as I turned to face him. “What I thought about Bailey wasn’t real,” I said quickly, the words tumbling out in a rush. “It was all in my head. I never really thought that—never truly believed it.”

Kai didn’t interrupt. He watched me with his sharp, knowing gaze, waiting for me to continue.

I exhaled—shaky—gripping the edge of the counter. “I hated seeing you happy, Kai. You and Bailey. It wasn’t fair, but at that time, it felt like you left me to deal with everything at the team while you moved on with your life. But I knew it wasn’t true. I knew it wasn’t your fault, Bailey’s, or anyone’s. But it was easier to put it on you than to admit I was falling apart.”

My voice cracked, and I looked away, staring at the tray of cookies that needed to be removed from the oven. I yanked them out, cursing when the oven glove shifted and burned my finger. Then I deflated and sank to the chair in the kitchen, and he moved to take the one opposite at the tiny table.

“I’m glad you told me,” Kai said.

“Lucas warned me not to tell you, and please don’t tell Bailey.”

“I don’t keep secrets from my husband,” Kai warned, then sighed. “But in this case, I think he already knew.”

“Shit. He did?”

“You’ve never made an effort to get to know him, and he’s sensitive to other people’s criticism, whether they say the words or walk the walk.”

I died a little inside. “I’ll change. I’m working on it. I’m trying to stop the impulse to self-destruct.”

“And you kissed Lucas.”

“I did.”

“But he kissed you back.”

“No. Yes. Fuck.” I bit into a piping-hot cookie and had instant regrets when it burned my tongue. “I don’t remember, I mean, I do, but fuck… this is hard. He said he kissed me back, but it shocked him, and then, of course, I started throwing around threats about what I’d do if people found out he’d kissed me.”

Kai frowned. “But you instigated the kiss.”

“I never said alcohol and imminent breakdown made me rational.”

“How did it go with Lucas over the last few days?”

“He helped. He’s seen me at my worst now.”

“And he still has feelings for you after you were honest about everything.”

I blinked at Kai. “How did you know?” I asked.

Kai chuckled. “It was always obvious he felt something for you.”

“It was?”

“Sure.”

“It was good here with him, and although he knows about all the chaos in my head, he says he’s falling in love with me, and I don’t understand it, Kai. How can he see the mess I am and still care?”

Kai let out a long breath, uncrossing his arms as he leaned back, his gaze steady and calm. “I’m guessing your therapist said you need to stop assuming you’re unworthy of people caring about you. I care about you, Bailey cares, your aunt and uncle have been blowing up my phone, and as for Lucas—he’s cared since you first met, way, way back when. He just didn’t know how to process it.”

I blinked at him, my chest tightening at the simplicity of his words. He made everything sound so easy, so obvious, but the knots in my stomach told me it wasn’t. Still, I nodded, knowing he wouldn’t let me off the hook that easily. And maybe, deep down, I didn’t want him to.

A sharp horn blast cut through the quiet, and I scrambled to stand, my heart leaping at the thought that it might be Lucas. I hurried to the window, but my hopeful smile faltered when I saw a bright pink SUV pulling up outside. Not Lucas.

Kai stood, stretching as he gave me a small, knowing grin. “That’s Jeremiah, town taxi driver,” he said, pulling on his coat. “He’s here to take me back home.” He stepped closer, wrapping me in a firm hug that caught me off guard. The warmth of it lingered even as he pulled away.

“But your truck?”

“Yours to use,” he added, handing me the keys and then gesturing toward the vehicle he’d arrived in. “I already called the garage to come dig out and tow your car and Lucas’s, so don’t worry.”

“Kai, thank you, I don’t know what to say?—”

“Also, day after tomorrow, ten a.m., down at the rink, you’re coaching the under-tens.”

I gaped at him. “I’m what now?”

He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Coach Hollister, temporary appearance one day only.”

“I can’t.” My monster reared its head, and I pressed a hand to my chest. “I can’t get in a rink, I can’t.”

Kai placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “They’re kids, there’s no pressure. You could skate in circles, and they’d love you.”

I nodded because he wasn’t giving me room to argue, feeling an odd mix of gratitude and emptiness as he stepped away, heading for the cerise taxi. The moment the door shut behind him, I waited for the panic to set in. The chickadee was back in the tree at the front, chirping at me, although I couldn’t hear. Maybe he was thanking me for the food, or telling me I was being an idiot—who knew.

Kai didn’t hate me. He’d hugged me, and he and Bailey had already forgiven me for judging them both.

Lucas wanted to spend Thanksgiving here and said he had feelings for me, but he was giving me space to settle my thoughts.

Wishing Tree felt like a magical, over-the-top Disney dream. All that was missing was the tiny chickadee on the branch bursting into song, talking, or maybe coming inside to tidy the cabin.

I pointed at him or her. “Don’t you fucking dare!”