33. Alex

I loungeon the couch with Emma nestled against my chest, I marvel at how everything has fallen into place over the last month. Our polycule arrangement with Lukas, Slade, and Ryan feels as natural as breathing now. Karen from HR was practically giddy when we added Slade and Ryan to our consent forms. I never thought I'd be the type of guy to share my girl, but damn if it doesn't feel right.

Emma traces lazy circles on my abs, her touch electric even through my t-shirt. My body hums with satisfaction, still riding the high from our earlier activities. Flashes of tangled limbs, glistening skin, and breathy moans dance through my mind. I tighten my arms around Emma, craving her closeness.

But as much as I want to lose myself in her again, I can't completely switch off coach mode. Old habits die hard.

"Hey babe, want to watch some game footage with me?" I ask, rubbing her shoulder. "Could be fun to analyze plays while we chill."

Emma tilts her head up, an amused smile playing on her kiss-swollen lips. "You just can't turn it off, can you? Such a workaholic." She pokes my chest playfully.

"Guilty as charged," I grin, capturing her hand and bringing it to my mouth for a kiss. "But you love me for it."

"Mmm, I suppose I do," she concedes. "Fire up that game tape then, coach. Let's see what you've got."

As I queue up the footage, I reflect on how much I've changed since this thing with Emma, Lukas, Slade, and Ryan came into my life. Before, hockey consumed me—I lived and breathed the chase for perfection. I pushed myself too hard and put my own health on the back burner.

But being with the four of them, building this beautiful, unconventional thing we have? It's shifted my whole perspective.

I still push myself, still demand excellence. But I've found an outlet for those dominant instincts in our bedroom activities. And fuck, if taking control there doesn't make me a calmer, clearer presence on the ice and in the locker room.

Emma burrows closer as the game tape starts, a vision of beauty and comfort in my arms. I press a kiss to her hair, breathing her in. In this moment, I've never been more grateful for the love and balance she and our boys have brought to my world.

Emma leans forward, blue eyes laser-focused on the screen. "There," she says, pointing at Slade as he snags the puck and weaves through the defense. "See how he's drawing the defenders to the left side of the ice? It's opening up space for Lukas on the right."

I watch as Lukas takes advantage of the opening, darting towards the net with a burst of speed. Emma's right—it's a subtle shift in tactics, but it creates a golden scoring opportunity.

"Slade's really grown as a captain," Emma muses, admiration evident in her voice. "His ability to read the ice and create plays is phenomenal."

I nod, pride swelling in my chest. Slade's come a long way from the raw talent I mentored in college. Leading this team has honed his strategic mind to a razor's edge.

Emma's gaze shifts to Ryan as he body-checks an opposing forward, effectively shutting down their offensive drive. "And look at Ryan's positioning," she enthuses. "He's not just reacting; he's anticipating. That's the mark of a truly skilled defenseman."

I can't help but be impressed by the depth of her analysis. She's not just seeing the game—she's dissecting it, layer by intricate layer.

As the period ends and the boys head to the bench, I hit pause on the tape and turn to face Emma fully. "Em, you're incredible," I marvel, shaking my head in wonder. "The way you break down plays, the insights you have…it's above and beyond a social media manager's qualifications."

A pretty blush colors her cheeks at the praise, but I can see the gears turning behind her eyes. She's always been humble, but I know hockey is in her blood.

"Have you ever considered video coaching?" The question slips out before I can second-guess it, but the more I think about it, the more right it feels. "You're a hockey genius, Em. The way you understand the game, it's innate. You could move out of marketing and onto the coaching staff."

Emma laughs, but there's an undercurrent of wistfulness to it. "Me? A coach?" She shakes her head. "That's a nice pipe dream. Besides, I need to keep focused on my work right now so I don't fall under the wrath of Alison."

Chloe went on maternity leave a couple weeks ago and now Emma's reporting into Alison. It's been a stressful situation for her. Alison is never happy with her and doesn't value her opinions at all. We've all been more than happy to help Emma work the stress off in the bedroom.

I frown, hating the glimmer of self-doubt in her eyes. Emma's hockey mind is a gift—one that deserves to be nurtured and celebrated, not stifled by an unsupportive supervisor.

"Screw Alison," I growl, perhaps a bit too vehemently. "She clearly doesn't recognize talent when it's staring her in the face."

Emma's answering smile is grateful, if a bit hesitant. "I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I'm not sure I'm cut out for video coaching. It's one thing to analyze the game as a fan; it's another to be responsible for a whole team."

I can tell that she doesn't want me to push this too hard right now, so I won't. Knowing Emma, there's more holding her back than her sour relationship with Alison, or a lack of confidence.

But I vow to myself that I'm not going to let this go completely.

The puck ricochets off the goalpost with a sharp clang as Slade takes another shot. His puck handling is crisp, his form fluid, even as a light sheen of sweat glistens on his brow. It's just the two of us out on the ice this morning, skills coach and captain, working to get Slade back in peak condition after his injury.

I skate over to him, my critical eye assessing every detail of his technique. "Good, but keep that right shoulder tucked in more when you shoot. Protect it."

Slade nods, his gray-blue eyes intense with focus as he absorbs my feedback. He lines up another shot, this time consciously keeping his shoulder square and stable as he sends the puck flying into the net with a satisfying swish.

"Much better," I praise, letting a small smile tug at my lips. Slade grins back, clearly pleased with his progress.

We go through a few more drills, fine-tuning his stickhandling and footwork. I can't help but admire his perseverance. The man's a machine out here, driven to be the best.

As we pause at the bench for a water break, I shift the conversation to more personal matters. "So, I've noticed Lukas and Ryan getting pretty cozy lately. Seems like they've put their old beef behind them, huh?"

Slade takes a long swig from his bottle, his brow furrowing thoughtfully. "Yeah, I guess so. It's been nice seeing them actually getting along for once."

I lean in slightly, genuinely curious. "And you're good with that? With them being…closer? I know you and Lukas had that flirtation going for a bit."

Slade shakes his head, a wry grin spreading across his handsome face. "Nah, man, it's all good. Honestly, I'm just happy they found their groove, you know? If they're into each other, I'm all for it." He shrugs, his shoulders loose and unbothered. "I've got Em, and this thing between all of us, it works. I'm not looking to rock the boat."

I feel a swell of affection and pride in my chest at his words. This right here, this is why Slade's the captain. The man has a heart big enough for the whole damn team and then some.

"You're a good guy, Slade," I tell him sincerely, clapping a hand on his uninjured shoulder. "Emma's lucky to have you. We all are."

He ducks his head slightly, a boyish grin playing at his lips. "Thanks, coach. Now whaddya say we run that play again? I think I can shave a few more seconds off my time…"

As we glide across the rink, the scrape of our blades echoing in the empty arena, my mind can't help but wander to how much has changed in such a short time.

It feels like just yesterday we were all at each other's throats, the tension so thick you could cut it with a skate.

But now? Now we're a unit, a well-oiled machine both on and off the ice. After a messy start to the season, we're riding a wave of momentum, getting closer and closer to the playoffs. The boys are playing like they're sharing one brain, anticipating each other's moves before they even happen.

And Emma. God, that woman is something else. She's the glue holding us all together, the heart of this crazy, beautiful thing we've built.

Fuck…I think I'm falling in love.