22. Versus Heat Waves

TWENTY-TWO

VERSUS HEAT WAVES

Nalani

“ N othing screams ‘I got thoroughly pucked last night’ like Nalani Kāne daydreaming out the window,” Sophie jokes.

Claire gives my hand a squeeze, and I give it back.

“Oh no, you don’t get to leave us out of the loop,” Noelle says. “Sisters share.”

“He asked you to move in, you sent a video of the KET and Hayward room. He even asked Claire and Savannah to move in. If anyone should be pouting, it’s me.” Sophie laughs.

“Us,” Noelle corrects.

“Right.” Sophie wraps her arm around her and gives her a squeeze.

“There’s asbestos in Paul’s building, and in order to make any significant updates, Paul would need to move out for a bit, and he’s refusing to,” I explain.

“What? How do you know this?” Sophie asks.

“Yesterday, Deacon and Dash asked him if they could remodel one of the floors and showed him some sort of plan they had. Paul was all in; excited for it, actually. Deacon had an inspector look at it today while we were at the?—”

“Puck Palace,” Claire jokes quietly.

I smile and continue, “Thankfully, we were already drinking bottled water because there are concerns there, too. It’s being tested.”

“So, it’s a health concern,” Sophie huffs. “What the fuck is it that screams drink me when alpha-puckholes see a sign that says, don’t drink the water ?”

“Alpha-puckholes?” Noelle laughs, and yes, the rest of us do, too.

The car pulls over and comes to a stop.

Sophie throws open the door and announces, “And here we are, at the puckhole capital of the world.”

“She never has a nice thing to say, does she?” comes from outside the car.

“Paul?” Claire and I both say at the same time.

“My niceties are reserved for people who aren’t quitters,” she huffs.

When we finally get out, I see Paul standing next to Deacon, who’s holding his cane.

“You came!” I hug him.

“Yeah, kid, not like I had a choice.” He throws his thumb over his shoulder at Deacon. “The Italian convinced me maybe I should.”

“How? We all but begged you?”

“Italians have a thing against the Pols.”

“They literally have never had beef,” Deacon grumbles.

“You guys were on the wrong side during the last world war. I’m not stirring that shit up again, not at my age. If I were younger, I’d have gone skate-to-skate with him but, apparently, I’m taking the kid with the hair that’s not quite as good as mine’s room at the Puck Pad.” He waves his hand and rolls his eyes. “Let’s get in there before someone recognizes me and I gotta be nice.”

“He’s staying at the Puck Pad?” I ask Deacon.

“Should be a good time.” He chuckles.

I look at Claire. “That means you’re with me.”

She bats away a tear.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“I’m so glad he’s choosing to live again.”

Watching Paul take this all in has been incredible and highly emotional. He teared up when they played the anthem, and that started my tears, too.

But now, now I’m focused on the game as we’re in the same place we were the other night. I am itching to be out of the box and down there, where the noise is deafening and the sound of sticks clashing, skates cut into the ice, and the crowd roars in a way you feel it in your bones.

I should be right here, surrounded by my friends, sipping champagne and pretending like I’m not unraveling with every second that ticks off that clock. But I can’t. I can’t just sit here, separated from him by walls of glass and distance, not when the game is tied, not when there are only fifty seconds left.

I can see him down there, number 29, his broad shoulders hunched in concentration, his eyes locked on the puck as he flies across the ice. My heart is pounding in sync with every slap of his stick, every hit. The Bears are giving it everything they’ve got, but I can see it in him—that look he gets when he knows everything is on the line. And right now, this game, this moment, is everything.

I can’t breathe. I can’t stay up here.

I turn to Sophie. “I’ve gotta go.” And I all but run to the door.

“Took you long enough!” she calls to my back.

Racing down the hall, my heels clack loudly against the concrete floors. The arena air hits me like a memory—cold, electric, full of anticipation. I can hear the countdown of the final seconds blaring through the speakers, the fans on their feet, screaming.

I don’t care if I look crazy. I don’t care if I’m breaking some unspoken rule of staying in the box. All I know is that I need to be closer.

I push through the crowds, ignoring the confused glances, squeezing through rows of people until I’m right up against the glass, my breath fogging up the clear surface.

The seconds are ticking down—twenty seconds, then fifteen. I slam my hand against the glass, my heart in my throat. “Koa!” I scream, not even sure if he can hear me over the chaos.

And then, like another crazy, fate-driven miracle, his eyes flick up. They find me. His expression changes the second he sees me, a flicker of something wild and hungry lighting up in those dark brown orbs, and he’s off.

He’s skating toward the goal, and for a heartbeat, he slows just enough to press his hand against the glass right where mine is.

The contact is electric. His touch, even through an inch of Plexiglas, sends a shock through my entire body. I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline or the fact that the world feels like it’s ours and it always has been.

Something shifts in his eyes. I see it—the fire, the determination. He gives me one last look—a promise—and then he’s gone, tearing down the ice with a burst of speed that makes the entire crowd gasp.

The puck is passed to him. Ten seconds left. He’s cutting through the defense like a man possessed, his stick a blur.

Hands pressed to the glass, I yell, “Come on, Koa, come on.”

The crowd starts, “Cock, cock, cock …” and I join in.

Seven seconds. He winds up for the shot, his entire body coiled like a spring. And then, in one fluid motion, he releases it. The puck flies through the air, past the goalie’s outstretched glove, and slams into the back of the net.

The red light flashes. The horn blares. The crowd erupts into chaos. But all I can hear is the sound of my own heartbeat as he skates toward me just as fast as he went down the ice.

He did it!

“You did it!”

His grin is wide and wild, and I’m laughing, crying, my palms pressed against the cold surface. When he reaches me, he slams his hand against the glass again, matching mine, his eyes never leaving mine. For a second, we’re just there, frozen in time, his breath fogging up the glass, his fingers spread wide over mine.

“You did it!” I scream again, even though I know he can’t hear me. But it doesn’t matter because he knows. The way his smile softens, the way his eyes blaze with something that’s just for me—it’s better than words.

He taps his fingers against the glass one last time, like a promise, before he’s pulled away by his teammates, lifted in their victory celebration.

He glances back over his shoulder, finds me in the crowd one last time, and mouths, “ I love you .”

I laugh. “I love you!”

The girls are all beside me, cheering on our Brooklyn Bears.

Sophie grabs me. “We need to be closer.”

“What if he doesn’t see me?” I call, but she doesn’t hear me over the crowd, and I’m being pressed to move.

When we get closer to the team, I see him standing in the middle of the rink, his eyes trailing me.

“What is going on?” I wonder out loud.

Then I hear him.

“Last year, we fucked up,” he says. “We didn’t bring the cup home to the Bears, but you’re still here, rooting us on, and we’re still out here, giving it all we have. Our promise to you is we will work harder, skate faster, and never give up.”

The crowd goes nuts as I get shifted again.

“Hey, he’s talking!”

“He is.”

I look behind me and see it’s Dean Costello, the freaking owner, who’s pushing me.

“Keep up, would ya?”

“Where are we going?”

“That man just won the game. He’s gonna wanna see his girl when he gets off the ice.”

“Okay?”

The crowd is still chanting his name when I find myself …

“Wait—what is going on?”

“Hold the wall.” Dean winks. “You don’t wanna bust your ass on live television.”

Koa skates slowly toward the tunnel. “There’s something about being given a second chance that inspires you to do better, be better.” He slides up to me on one knee. “What we had was taken from us, but here we are, getting a second chance, because fate was determined that we were meant to be together, you and me, forever.” He takes my hand. “I’m never letting you go.”

“I won’t let you.” I smile as a tear falls.

He holds out a ring, one I can’t see through my tears, but I know it’s shiny. “Marry me.”

Nodding, I choke out, “Yes. Yes, of course.”

He slides the ring on my finger, raises to his full height, and then picks me up. “Victory lap.”

I take his face in my hands and kiss him like he’s mine because he is … always has been.

Draped over my shoulders like a cloak, holding me snug in front of him, semi-pressing against my ass, he nips my ear and growls, “One toast, and we’re out.”

“One toast,” I agree as I pop my ass against him while he reaches in front of me and pulls the door to Ice Tavern open. “Keep that up. It’s half a toast.”

We both start laughing when, all of a sudden, through the sound system comes, “ We have the best music! Another one! DJ Khaled! ” and we immediately spot our friends with balloons. Sophie’s reads, “Congrats,” and Noelle’s, “ Get Well Soon ,” and I’m cracking up. Then Dash appears with another that reads, “ Congratulations on the Vasectomy .” I turn and bury my face in Koa’s chest as he flips Dash off.

“Nah, man, that’s all they had.” Dash walks up and gives us both a hug.

The girls come over and join in.

“Where’s Deacon?” Koa asks.

“Home with a concussion, remember?” Dash gives him a long wink.

“Shit, that’s right.”

Then the girls are on us, and we somehow all end up dancing until the song ends then make our way back.

“Surprised you two made it,” Theo Rivera, who was Koa’s roommate at Lincoln, gives him a hug. “Congrats, man. A long time coming, yeah?”

“Sure was.” Koa smiles down at me.

“Welcome to the Bears family,” Theo says, giving me a hug. “Riley and the girls can’t wait to hang out.”

I look up at Koa. “You’re good with that?”

“Of course I—” He stops when I arch a brow. “Fuck, yeah, in my defense?—”

“I’m messing with you.” I smile.

He frowns. “You didn’t deserve it.”

“None of that matters anymore.”

“I really feel like I’m missing something that’s none of my business, but let’s do the toast. I have a wife at home waiting.” Theo winks.

“They don’t come out after?”

“My entire family came up from Texas, so she went with them.”

“All right, let’s do the damn thing,” comes from one of the guys as Dash hands us a drink.

“Thanks, Dash.”

Leo Stone holds his cup up. “To the pucks in the net and these beers in our hands.”

Everyone takes a sip, and then Bass Giulietti is next.

“We hit ’em hard and lit up the board. Tonight, we earned every sip. Now, let me go home and reap my reward.”

“Fucked up when you talk about nailing our coach,” someone says.

“Not when your coach is my wife, dipshit.” Bass chuckles, and everyone takes a sip.

Evan Smith holds up his pint. “We scored and defended, we won in a flash; now let’s finish this drink so I can go home and get some ass.”

They start chanting, “Cock, cock, cock.”

“We fought like warriors, we owned the zone. Now let’s tip them up; I have a fiancée to bone.”

Giggling, I elbow him, and he chuckles.

Dash raises his glass. “To the blood and sweat, and the ice we all bleed, raise your glass to the team who’s leading the league!”

When they chant, “Cock, cock, cock,” again, I nudge him, and he looks down at me. “May I?”

He chuckles as he nods. “Get it.”

I raise my glass to the patrons. “To fans of this team, you’re truly adored; you’re the reason these Bears played hard and scored. Now to the ladies tossing numbers over the glass, you disrespect me and my man, I will kick your as?—”

Koa crashes his lips against mine as the crowd around us starts laughing.

He pulls back, eyes smiling, and shakes his head. “Time to get you home.”

“You’re not sticking around to eat?” Dash asks.

“We’ll break bread on the road.”

As soon as we get in his vehicle, both of our phones ring.

“Odd.” He chuckles and shows me a FaceTime request from his parents.

Giggling, I show him my screen—Tūtū Kaleia—and he winks at me.

“Love the pic.”

“Love the photographer.”

“Damn right you do.” He leans over and gives my lips a nip. “Accept?”

“Of course.” We lean in, faces against each other’s and, in unison say, “Aloha!”

When they appear on the screen—Koa’s parents, Kanoa and Leilani, and Tūtū—it is clear they’re all together, and they’re each holding up glasses in toast.

“Ho’omaika’i iā ?oe!” Congratulations to you.

“Thank you,” we say in unison.

“Yesterday, you’re back together; today, engaged.” His father, Konoa, laughs.

“Do we expect to see you getting married after tomorrow’s game?” his mom, Leilani, jokes, but I can see the hurt in her eyes.

Before either of us answers, Tūtū does for us. “They’ll marry here, in Wailea.”

They all look at us, and we look at each other, smiling.

“Where it all began.” He pulls my hand up, kisses it, then brushes his lips across mine.

“And this all needs to be done soon, right?” Tūtū asks, drawing our attention from each other and back to the screens.

“We’ll figure out a date.”

“No worries.” His father chuckles. “Our mother and Tūtū have been planning already.”

“And,” his mother says, looking at something off-screen, “the fourteenth, when we plan to fly into Dallas to watch a game, how about you two fly here then fly out the next day like you did that one Christmas?”

“But leave together,” Tūtū adds.

His mother smiles. “And then, when your season’s over, you give your wife the wedding she has probably dreamed of her entire life.”

“The wedding I dreamed of will never happen.” I frown at Koa’s reaction. “Meaning my father will not be giving me away.” I shake my head and laugh. “You, Koa, are more than I ever could have imagined.”

“You sure that?—”

“It’s long overdue. I can’t wait to be your wife. I don’t need a big wedding; it lessens the meaning. You and I, we’re uniting.”

“I’m going to remind you that you may not, and I may not, but your girls?” He cocks his head to the side.

“Your guys.” I chuckle as I give him back the same questionable look.

“Yeah, it’s going to be a frat party.”

I laugh. “You say it like it’s a bad thing. As I recall, you joined a frat in?—”

He laughs. “That’s Rivera’s fault.”

“We’re sure you two have lots of catching up.” His mother laughs, and we look back at the screen. “Kaleia and I will handle everything. If there’s anything either of you need to make this?—”

“You’ve done so much already, Leilani. You gave birth to and raised the man I will love forever.”

“You’ll need a dress,” Tūtū states.

“How do you imagine your dream dress?” Leilani asks.

“Do either of you still have yours?” I ask.

“You sure you don’t?—”

I place my finger over his lips. “To wear either one of theirs would be an honor.”

When we pull into the garage, Koa parks, jumps out, rounds his vehicle, and opens my door.

I take his hand. “Thank you.”

“My honor, my privilege,” he states like it’s law, and it is for Koa, and it will be for our own children.

“I love you so freaking much.”

His eyes sparkle with amusement. “You’ll love driving this Jeep, too.” He drags me over and opens the door. “Get in.”

“Shut up.” I laugh. “You did not have to do that.”

“You wanted a Jeep, you should have one.” He nods to the open door of the stunning four-door, deep red vehicle with massive wheels. “Climb on in.”

“I don’t want to appear ungrateful. I am so grateful.”

His smile starts to fade.

“You’ll have to forgive me, but right now, I want to climb on you.”

Closing the door, he chuckles. “Forgiven.” He grabs me up. “Hold on tight.”

Thighs wrapped around him like a vice, one hand holding tight to his hot traps that were seriously defined back then but now … yeah, fuck hot. Reaching down, I pop the buttons on his jeans and start to shove my greedy little hand down his waistband, my fingertip grazing his piercing. His chest vibrates as he releases a low growl.

So hot.

I pinch one of the bells and give it a little tug,

“Unless you want us to end up falling down the stairs, you may want to stop that, or we’ll end up fucking right here and not in our bed.”

I give it another tug and nip his ear. “I say we do it here before the girls move in and our bed is the only option.”

His long, quick strides slow immediately, and I slide down his body.

When he reaches out for me, I gently bat his hand away. “Let me undress you.”

“You want to undress”—he points to himself—“me?”

I nod as I step up to him and untuck the rest of the Henley that’s stretched across his incredible upper body. “I want to strip you down.”

“I will never deny you a damn thing,” he groans as I skate my fingertips up his abs.

“Your body is incredible.” I trace my thumb over his nipple.

“It’s all yours, ku’uipo.” He then hisses when I pinch the other. “Fuck.”

“Do you know, that from the time we were kids, as much as I loved my time at Wailea with Tūtū and the lessons with your father, there wasn’t a time I wasn’t looking out of the corner of my eye, hoping to catch a glimpse of you? Even at what—fourteen or fifteen—you in board shorts, your long, lean, athletic body, the way you moved on that board, you made the ocean look smaller.”

He bends so I’m able to pull the shirt over his head. “I was showing off for you.”

“You didn’t even see me there.” I laugh.

“There was never a time you were in Wailea that I didn’t know you were near.” He curls his fingers for me to come closer.

“You need to give me a minute.” I hold my fingers up as if they’re a camera lens. “You will never stop turning my head, making me want to crawl inside of you and soak up all that warmth, that heat, that …” I stop talking when he grows so damn impatient and shoves down his jeans. They fall to the floor with a thud .

He points to his dick peeking out of his black boxer briefs and says, “I would love to be inside of you, too.”

Biting back a smile, I step closer to him, grip his balls, and give them a gentle squeeze. “I was trying to tell you?—”

“That you love me?” he asks, wrapping one of his big arms around me and lifting me to eye level. “I know you love me. You know I love you.” He stalks toward the stairs. “We deal with what kept us apart when the sun’s up, and when that’s done, it doesn’t affect us and ours. But the nights, every one of them, is ours.” He grabs one of my legs and hooks it around his waist.

I wrap the other around as I lightly scrape my teeth across his shoulder, and he groans again.

“Whoever said men can’t multitask never met my man .” I laugh as I wiggle my arm out of my sweater that he’s dragging off me with one hand as he unclasps my bra with the other.

When we enter the room, I inhale a sharp breath when I see the panoramic view of the Brooklyn Bridge all lit up. “Look at how beautiful that is.”

Koa sits on the end of the bed, which is not king-sized but Koa’s size. “Fucking stunning.” He pops the button on my jeans as he sucks on my neck, sending chills up my spine.

“The bridge,” I moan, sliding my hand between us, under his boxers, and feel the precum beading at the tip of his dick. Wrapping my hand around him, I slowly stroke and lift my ass so he can get my pants over my butt.

When I move off his lap, he grumbles and flops back on his bed.

Laughing, I kick off my boots and pull my legs out of my jeans and panties before climbing back onto the bed. “I don’t think so, big guy.” I plant my hands on his chest as he starts to sit and move to straddle him.

“Is that how this is gonna—fuuuuck,” he growls as I rub his rock-hard cock against my slick wetness and slowly take him inside of me. I lower myself down, taking more, rocking my hips, as he digs his fingers into my hips, guiding me.

I lean back as he continues moving me, gripping his forearms for balance and watching where our bodies are connected in the most intimate way. I watch him watching us, teeth bared slightly. Rolling my hips, I stretch myself for more while feeling the incredible amount of pleasure that comes from being so full of him.

“Fuck, you’re stunning.” He pulls me down tight against him, kissing me, tasting me, licking me as he sits up, bringing us to the end of the bed, and bringing me down hard—so good—on him.

“Yes,” I whimper.

“Ku’uipo, fuck! Yeah, just like that.” He thrusts up.

“Don’t stop, Koa, don’t you ever stop!” I cry out.

He holds my hips firmer and tighter against him as he begins thrusting hard. “So good. So good.” He bows his head and sucks hard on my nipple, still pumping into me and …

“I’m going to … I’m gonna”—my thighs start trembling—“come. Gonna … Coming! I’m coming!” I cry.

And then … so does he, saying, “I just put a baby in you.”