27. Holly

Chapter 27

Holly

The car traveled along the snow-dusted road, the early morning light barely breaking through the thick gray clouds overhead. I sat in the passenger seat, my hands wrapped around a thermos of coffee Lucas had shoved at me before we’d left the cabin. The familiar nerves ached in my chest as we approached the Diamonds hockey rink outside Wishing Tree. I’d taken my meds this morning. I even had the emergency supply on me just in case. But it turned out that having Lucas next to me made me wary of taking anything that would numb me to this new life I was experiencing, and somehow the panic was less whenever he was near. Go figure.

I stared at the building as it came into view, Kai Buchanan’s name bold on the side, like a stamp of approval from the man himself. I’d heard about the programs here, how they were building a reputation for training kids and fostering a love for hockey. It was… impressive. And intimidating.

“I’m not sure about this,” I said, my voice low as I stared at the rink, my grip tightening on the thermos.

Lucas’s hand left the wheel, his fingers settling on my knee, firm but gentle. “It’s just kids and skating, Holly,” he said, his tone light but steady. The car stopped in the small parking lot, and I stared at the building, letting out a slow breath.

I turned to him, searching his face. “Why aren’t you being the perfect boyfriend and saying you’ll take me home instead?”

“Boyfriend?” he murmured, and I felt my face heat.

“That’s what we are, right?”

“Yeah,” he leaned over and kissed me. “That is what we are.”

“So, boyfriend, back to my original question—why aren’t you taking me back to the cabin?”

He glanced at me, his blue eyes softening with something I couldn’t quite name. “Because,” he said with a faint smile, “there’s nothing, and no one, as sexy as you on the ice, and I wanna see that.” My heart gave a little jolt at the words, but then he added, more seriously, “Also, it’s a healing thing. Trust me on this.”

“You’re really good at this whole motivational speech thing, you know,” I muttered.

“Comes with the territory,” he replied, grinning as he killed the engine and stepped out.

I reluctantly followed, shoving my hands deep into my coat pockets as the cold bit at my face.

The rink wasn’t flashy—not the kind of arena I’d grown used to in my years of pro hockey—but it had its own kind of charm. The outside had been renovated, with newer siding and clean, bold signage, but the inside still showed its age. The walls were scuffed, the benches well-worn, and the smell of ice and gear lingered in the air. It wasn’t perfect, but it felt real.

Kai appeared near the boards, grinning wide as he waved us over. “About time,” he said, his tone teasing as we approached. “I’ve got skates and a stick for you, Hols. We’re the same size generally, so they’re mine, but you’ll have to deal with them until you get your own here.”

I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms. “How do you know I didn’t sell mine? Or toss them in the trash?”

Kai’s grin softened, his eyes sharp but kind. “You might have given up on hockey, Holls, but hockey’s always in your blood. The ice is part of who you are.”

I stared at him for a moment, my chest tight. The words hit harder than I wanted to admit, but I swallowed the emotion, glancing at Lucas. He nodded, that steady look of his grounding me.

“Fine,” I muttered, shrugging off my coat. “Let’s see if I can still do this.”

The faint sound of kids laughing and skating echoed from the far side of the rink as I laced up Kai’s skates, the familiar chill of the ice sinking into my bones. It was kids and skating, like Lucas said. Nothing more. But somehow, as I stepped onto the ice, it felt like everything.

The ice carried a blur of motion and noise, kids darting from side to side in purple-themed gear, their sticks clattering, and laughter bouncing off the walls. The practice was chaotic, unpolished, and nothing like the crisp, rehearsed drills I was used to from my years in the NHL. Instead, it was something raw and joyful, and it made my chest ache in the best way.

It had a magic all of its own.

One kid caught my eye, a wiry little boy who kept tripping when he circled the net, his knees hitting the ice with a hollow thud, and each time he got back up, shaking his head like he was willing himself not to cry.

I skated over, crouching in front of him. “Hey, tough guy. What’s your name?”

“E-Eli,” he stammered, his lip quivering. “I’m not tough. I’m terrible with my edges.”

I smiled, shaking my head. “You’re not terrible, Eli. You’re out here, giving it your all, and that makes you tougher than half the players I’ve seen. You know what the secret is to being a great hockey player?”

He blinked at me, his wide eyes full of doubt. “What?”

“Keep falling. And keep getting back up. That’s all it is. Every single time. Got it?”

He sniffled, nodding slowly. “Got it.”

“Good.” I tapped his helmet before skating backward, motioning for him to follow. “Now show me what you’ve got.”

Eli was still falling by the time practice ended, but he was laughing now, which felt like a win. The kids shuffled off the ice in a loud, clumsy herd, leaving the space empty except for me, Kai, and Lucas watching from the boards. The ice was quiet again, and the sound of my skates was the only thing filling the space as I took a slow lap around the rink.

When I finally stepped off the ice, my legs felt like jelly, my chest tight with something I couldn’t quite name, but it wasn’t panic. I felt new. Whole. And shaky as hell. The weight I’d been carrying for years—the guilt, the fear, the loss—was a little lighter, as though I’d left some of it on the ice. But the trembling didn’t stop as I unlaced my skates, my hands shaking so badly I could barely pull the laces free.

Lucas was there before I could process everything, tugging me into a dark corner near the benches. His arms wrapped around me, solid and sure, holding me up as my emotions swirled out of control.

“I’m proud of you, boyfriend,” he murmured, his voice low and full of warmth.

I froze for a moment, the word sinking in. Boyfriend. It felt foreign and perfect all at once. I tilted my head up, meeting his eyes, and before I could overthink, I kissed him. It wasn’t rushed or frantic; it was slow and steady, grounding me in a way nothing else could.

“About freaking time,” Kai’s voice rang out, amused and just loud enough to startle us apart. He stood a few feet away, arms crossed, a knowing smirk on his face.

Lucas groaned, burying his face against my shoulder. “Thanks for ruining the moment, Kai.”

“Not ruining. Observing,” Kai shot back, his grin widening. “Carry on. Or don’t. Just know that Bailey’s going to want the full play-by-play.”

I laughed, the sound feeling freer than in years, and tightened my hold on Lucas. Because, for once, I didn’t care who was watching. For the first time in forever, I felt like me again.

Not much later, a panic attack came from nowhere, and Lucas stopped the car and held me through it all. It was all too much.

I think I cried.

I know I did.

And through all of it, Lucas held me and told me I was okay.

And that he loved me.

Thanksgiving had been quiet, just the two of us in the cabin. I wasn’t ready for an entire Haynes family gathering—not yet. Lucas had been honest with me about the messages his family kept sending, all buzzing with excitement over us being together and suggesting we join them. I appreciated that he told me, but I wasn’t there yet. Still, I couldn’t say no to the Christmas parade. It was a Haynes institution, and Lucas had been counting down to it like a kid waiting for Santa.

That was how I ended up hiding out in Wesley’s bookshop, listening to him and Hunter McCoy bicker over costumes. Wesley, dressed in a dramatic ghost outfit with an absurdly realistic chain, was trying to convince Hunter to wear makeup for his role as another ghost. Hunter, in a frock coat and with a disbelieving huff, was having none of it.

“I’m not putting anything on my face,” Hunter snapped, crossing his arms.

“You’re supposed to look spectral!” Wesley wailed, throwing up his hands. “Do you think ghosts just wander around with perfectly healthy skin and rosy cheeks?”

“It’s cold. I’ll look spectral naturally,” Hunter deadpanned.

Their argument was ridiculous and endlessly funny, taking my mind off everything else. Somewhere out there, Lucas was in full commander mode, rallying everyone and ensuring the parade was ready. It started in half an hour, and I was trying not to count the seconds.

HOLLY: Good luck, boyfriend

Almost instantly, my phone buzzed back. A simple heart emoji and a love you.

When I couldn’t stand the waiting and got caught up in the excitement, I wandered outside, bundled up in my thickest coat and scarf. I ended up next to the waiter from BBs—Connor—and his parents, and we discussed hockey. We talked about the Harriers—their rebuilding season, the new captain, Jonah Merritt—and the ache wasn’t there for the first time in what felt like forever. I could talk about it without the weight pressing down on me.

At some point, I got a hot chocolate from Hunter’s stall. It was over-the-top, piled high with whipped cream, sprinkles, and crushed candy canes. “Freaking make-up,” Hunter grumbled, handing it over.

I grinned at Wesley, who was spinning gleefully in his ghost costume. “You two make quite the pair.”

Hunter scowled at me, muttering something under his breath, and I turned my attention back to the street just in time to see the parade begin.

It was magical in the way Wishing Tree seemed to be. Lights twinkled on every float, the music was loud and cheerful, and the air was thick with laughter and chatter. At the front of it all was Lucas, bundled in a coat, his cheeks pink from the cold. He was grinning ear to ear, waving to everyone as if he’d been born for this role. When he spotted me, his grin widened, and before I knew it, he was darting over, stealing a quick kiss that left me stunned and warm all over.

“I’ll see you after!” he said, moving back toward the parade.

I turned back to Connor, who watched me with his mouth open.

“That’s my boyfriend,” I said, the words leaving me in a rush of pride and certainty.

Connor smiled, “I like this boy in my class; his name is Mikey.”

I wondered if he liked him, or like liked him. Either way, we exchanged smiles, and that was that.

Simple.

We both liked boys.

The house was alive with chaos that only a family like the combined Haynes/Buchanan clans could produce. Kids darted between rooms, squealing with delight as wrapping paper flew like confetti, and adults shouted over each other in the chaos. I hung back near the doorway, soaking in the warmth and noise. Lucas was in the thick of it, handing out gifts, his grin wide, but it was overwhelming in the best way, and I needed a moment. Finding a quiet corner near the front window, I pulled out my phone and dialed.

I’d already spoken to my aunt and uncle one-on-one to prepare them for the changes in my life. I was seeing them at New Year’s, and hopefully, Lucas would come, too. I told them I was in love with a man. I told them I was considering staying in Wishing Tree, but not for how long.

And now they got to meet him—well, virtually anyway. My aunt and uncle answered quickly, their faces lighting up on the screen.

“Merry Christmas, kiddo!” Uncle Brad boomed.

“Merry Christmas,” I said, my voice steady.

“Where is he, then?” Aunt Letty said eagerly.

“What am I? Chopped liver?” I teased, and she huffed.

“Show me the sexy!” she demanded with a grin.

I tugged at Lucas’s arm as he wandered over with a cookie and a curious look.

“This is Lucas,” I said, gesturing. “My… boyfriend.” Saying it aloud made my chest tighten, but in a good way. “Lucas, this is Aunt Letty and Uncle Brad.”

Lucas leaned into the frame, waving cheerfully. “Hi! Thanks for sharing him with us this year.”

Letty grinned. “You better take care of him, Lucas.”

“Always,” Lucas replied, and the sincerity in his tone made me glance at him, my heart swelling.

“Are you having a good day?”

We talked briefly, but it was hard to hear, and they were at a friend’s place with dinner almost ready. After the call ended, Lucas stayed close, his arm brushing mine. “Okay?”

I glanced at the chaos. “Sure.”

He elbowed me in the side. “Want to head back to the cabin for some peace?”

“Fuck, yes,” I said.

We said our goodbyes, then slipped out, and as we drove back through the snow-draped streets of Wishing Tree, I leaned back in the truck, feeling the peace I hadn’t realized I was searching for. The cabin greeted us with its cozy warmth, and as Lucas stoked the fire, I finally felt as though I could breathe again.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, pulling me close.

“Merry Christmas,” I whispered back.

“Are you okay? Happy?” he asked.

And for the first time in years, I truly was.