CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

V innie

I wake to find Evan in my arms. Our heads are pressed closely together, and we share a pillow. We’ve woken multiple times in the night, drawing each other close for kisses and handjobs and blowjobs.

His lashes flutter up, and I’m gazing into his eyes. I probably have a ridiculous, dopey smile, not shielded by the dark anymore. Light streams from the thin curtains, and the windows must not be soundproofed, because the rumble of voices drifts in from outside.

I watch the moment he opens his eyes, the moment he finds me beside him, the moment his eyes dilate, and a smile breaks over his face.

“Hello,” he murmurs, nuzzling into the space between my head and shoulder. His hair brushes against my chin, and his fingers trace circles around my nipples.

“I think it’s breakfast time.”

He laughs, pushing his hands against my chest. “Well, we can’t miss that.” He hops toward the bathroom and turns on the shower. “Coming?”

I follow him into the shower and pull his slippery body against me. “We should probably talk.”

He draws back and raises an eyebrow.

“Not like that.” My face heats. “I mean—” I swallow hard. “When will I see you again?”

“Oh.” His eyes soften. “As soon as possible.”

I nod multiple times. “That sounds good.”

“Of course, it does. I don’t want to act like strangers in my own house. And I don’t think Stella is good at keeping secrets. It’s not a skill I want her to develop.”

“Why don’t you tell her that I’m your boyfriend?”

His eyes shine. “That sounds nice.”

“Maybe we should have a discussion with our agents about what else we should do.”

“We’ll need to tell the team management.”

“We’ll need to tell our team.”

“Together?”

I nod. “Always.”

EVAN

“Story time!” Stella exclaims soon after I open the door.

“She’s been waiting for you,” Jasmine says.

“Thanks for watching her.”

“Anytime.”

I grin. Isaiah’s shown me engagement ring options for her. A proposal is definitely coming soon.

“Maybe one day Stella will babysit your kids,” I say.

Her cheeks pinken, but hearts practically bounce off her eyes. “I should go.”

“Okay.”

“You want to bring me a book?” I ask Stella once we’re alone.

“Nah. I want a real story.”

I nod solemnly, then swing her over my shoulders and carry her to the couch.

She squeals happily, and I plop her next to me.

“Want a true story?” I ask.

Stella looks at me suspiciously. “You told me I’m not allowed to watch true stories.”

I blink, then remember telling her to change the channel when I saw true crime playing.

“You’re allowed to listen to me tell a true romance story,” I say.

“Sounds boring.”

“I’ll make it short.” My heart wobbles. This needs to go okay. There can’t be a world where Stella isn’t happy with me.

“So once upon a time, there was a hockey player.”

“You’re a hockey player!”

I grin. “Yes, Stella.”

“And he met another hockey player. And they were best friends for many years. And then they had a...misunderstanding and didn’t see each other for a while.”

Stella wrinkles her nose.

This is not going well. My throat dries, and I wonder why I didn’t think to get some water before I sat down.

“One of the hockey players had a beautiful daughter named Stella.”

“This is super boring, Dad. My name is Stella. Can’t you be original?”

My cheeks warm. “But then the two hockey players made up. And now they’re boyfriends!”

Her eyes widen. “And they’ll live happily ever after?”

“That’s the plan!” I give an overly cheerful, awkward laugh. “What do you think about that?”

Stella sighs. “Vinnie is much better at telling stories. He even acts in them. You should ask him how he does it.”

I smile. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

“Too bad you had a fight, though.”

I clear my throat. “So, the story was a true story. And you’re the real Stella. And I’m the real hockey player. And Vinnie is—”

“The other real hockey player?”

I nod. Maybe metaphors were not the way to break the news that Vinnie and I are in a relationship.

“And we’re going to live happily ever after,” I say. “Hopefully. I guess we never know in the world. But we’re going to try. And we’ll have one another.”

“So, Vinnie and you are no longer fighting?”

“No longer.”

“Is he coming over tonight? Can he tell me a real story?”

“I’ll call him,” I suggest.

“Yay!” Stella bounces on the sofa cushions.

And when Vinnie arrives, thirty minutes later, Stella barrels straight into his arms, and I’m sure that everything will be just fine.

We’ll be a family.