Chapter 21

Asher

I'm pacing the length of my room in Pawleys Island, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath my feet, wanting to do something in return to Elle for being so amazing.

I want to do something to commemorate her and I getting back together, but my mind is a jumble of happiness and hope. I can't think. I need to do something that screams us. That's it—a private dinner on Love Beach, right at sunset. But not just any dinner. A picnic on a yacht under a sky painted with the twinkling lights of the stars.

My heart hammers with newfound purpose, and I rush to arrange a yacht rental with a captain for the night and jot down everything else we'll need. A soft blanket, a basket filled with gourmet sandwiches from her favorite deli, those little fruit tarts she loves, and a bottle of chilled white wine. Perfect.

Now, time to get myself ready. I head into the bathroom, flicking on the light. The mirror greets me with my reflection: golden-brown skin still flushed from today's practice, the muscles I’ve earned on the ice standing out against the fabric of my tank top. Tonight, I want to look like a guy who is worthy of the woman of his dreams.

I strip off the tank and step into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over my body, washing away the sweat and tension. The steam envelopes me, as I scrub at my skin, imagining it’s Elle's gentle hands instead. Shaking my head to dispel the thought, I focus on the task at hand.

Out of the shower, I dry off and stand before my closet. What to wear? I pull out a casual button-up shirt—nothing too fancy, but it brings out the green in my eyes. Pair it with some khaki shorts, and I'm set. Dress for the date you want, right?

I button the shirt up, leaving the top few undone for that effortless look. A glance in the mirror confirms I'm toeing the line between relaxed and trying too hard. A deep breath, and I reach for the cologne on the counter—the one Elle once said reminded her of starry nights and daring dreams. Two spritzes, one on the neck, another on the chest part of the shirt.

"Come on, Jet," I mutter to myself, using the nickname that's followed me since I first laced up skates. "You've faced down enforcers with fists like cinder blocks. You can handle a date."

But this isn't just any date—it's a shot at a future.

The doorbell rings, and I nearly jump out of my skin. It's game time. I rush to the door, heart slamming against my ribs like it wants to break free. My hand's on the doorknob, and I pause, take a breath to steel myself.

"Be cool, Asher. Just... be cool."

I open the door, and there she is. Elle. The sight of her knocks the wind straight out of me. She's wearing a flowing sundress, the colors reminding me of a sunset we watched once. Her hair cascades around her shoulders, and her eyes hold a cautious hope that twists something deep inside me.

"Elle," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "You look... incredible."

"Thanks, Ash." She offers a small, tentative smile that hits me harder than any body check I’ve ever had. "So, what's the surprise?"

"Right, the surprise." I clear my throat, trying to find my voice. "I thought we could spend the night on the water. A private yacht tour around the island. There's something magical about the sea at night, and I wanted to share that with you."

"Sounds perfect," she whispers, her walls coming down bit by bit. "Thank you for this. I know it hasn't been easy, but..."

I step forward, close enough to catch a hint of her perfume, something floral and wild. "Hey, no more talking about the past, okay? Tonight's about us. Just us."

"Okay, us," she agrees.

We head to the dock where the yacht awaits, its lights dancing on the gentle swells of the sea. Stepping aboard, I extend my hand to help her, our fingers brushing with an electric spark.

"Ready?" I ask, my voice steady despite how I’m actually feeling.

"More than ever," she replies, and we set off.

The yacht hums beneath us as we glide over the water, Charleston’s coastline twinkling in the distance like a string of precious jewels. I point out landmarks, making her laugh with stories from my rookie year, earning genuine smiles that fuel my courage.

"Look," I say, gesturing to the sky where the stars are bursting alive. "It's like they are all laid out just for us."

Elle leans against the railing, gazing upward. "It's beautiful," she murmurs. "I can't remember the last time I really looked at the stars."

I move closer, her nearness intoxicating. Under the celestial tapestry, the night unfolds, and each moment weaves us tighter together.

The yacht rocks gently, a soothing cradle on the sea. Elle's hand finds mine in the darkness, fingers intertwining.

She sighs, and asks, “What do you yearn for when the crowds and the lights fade?"

I pull her close, reveling in the feeling of her body being in arms. "To be seen, really seen, for who I am beneath the jersey number. And to share moments like this—real, raw, perfect—with someone who understands."

"Someone like me?" Her voice is barely above a whisper, laced with hope and a trace of uncertainty.

"Only you," I answer without hesitation. "You've seen me at my worst and yet here you are, still by my side."

Elle rests her head on my shoulder, our shared breaths synchronizing. "We're two once lonely souls, aren't we? But somehow, it feels right."

"We were lonely, but not anymore," I concede. "We've both made our share of mistakes." I reflect back to the arrogant plays, the reckless nights, the times I put pride before people. "I'm grateful for those missteps now—they led me to you."

"Me too," she whispers. "My walls were high, my trust scarce. But you, Asher Gray, have a way of melting barriers."

"Only because you let me," I say, feeling the truth of it deep in my bones. "Thank you for this second chance, Elle."

"Thank you for being worth the risk," she replies, her breath warm against my skin.

Our lips meet in a kiss that seals promises and mends fractures.

She breaks apart from our kiss and pulls back from me.

"Actually, Asher," she hesitates, "there's something that's been bothering me."

My pulse quickens, a thread of nervousness weaving through the niceness of our intimate dinner. "What is it?"

"It's about your games," she starts, her thumb caressing my knuckles despite the tension. "Sometimes, when you're out there on the ice... It's like you become someone else. Someone who has a completely different world than me."

The words sting, a sudden chill against the coastal heat. This isn't just about hockey; it's about us, about whether I can truly be present with her while chasing my dreams. My grip tightens involuntarily as I grapple for understanding.

"Elle, I—"

"Please," she interrupts gently, "just let me finish. I love watching you play, but I fear losing you to the game. To that world where I don't exist. And the same for my world because I still want to become a nurse, and I have to work all the time to be able to afford it. I’m afraid that we’ll get lost in the day-to-day busyness and lose sight of us."

Her vulnerability strikes a chord, resonating with my own fears of not being worthy of her love outside the rink. But this is our time to prove we're more than past mistakes and insecurities.

"Elle," I say, voice barely above a whisper, "the man on that ice, he's nothing without you. You ground me, remind me why I fight so hard. Not for glory, but for us—for a future where every win is ours, not just mine. As for your nursing school. You know I’m a millionaire, right?"

She searches my eyes, seeking the truth. I can see her walls wavering.

“What? I know you live in a big house, but you have roommates. So, I thought that was how you all can afford the house, kind of like cohabitating,” she replies, and I laugh.

“Oh, gypsy girl. We all live in the same house because we’re friends who happen to work together, but each one of us makes enough money to pay cash for a house like that. My point is, I would happily give you a scholarship for school, and we can move into our own place so you wouldn’t have to work, and you can just go to school.”

"Oh, my God, Ash! Seriously?" she bounces on her tiptoes and I have to steady us before we tumble over the deck and into the ocean.

"Yes, I’m serious. I believe in you, Elle, and I know that you would be the best nurse." My response is instant. Just like that, the tension dissipates, replaced by enthusiasm for what lies ahead.

Her laugh rings out again, this time uninhibited. I squeeze her fingers gently, a silent affirmation that I’m here.

"Look," she says, her voice soft but clear in the quiet night. Her gaze turns upward, and I follow it to see a shooting star streaking across the dark sky. In an instant, I know this is our moment—the symbol of our transformation, the sign that the past is behind us, and the future is ours to shape.

"Make a wish," I mutter, bringing her hand to my lips in a kiss that tastes of salt and hope.

Elle closes her eyes, a serene smile touching her lips. "Done."

"Can you tell me, or will it not come true?" I tease, hoping to keep the mood light.

"It has already come true, Ash," she replies, her crystal blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

I cup her cheek, thumb tracing the line of her jaw, reveling in the softness of her skin. And then, without another word, I drop to one knee, right there on the deck. It's not a proposal—not yet—but the gesture feels momentous all the same.

"Elle, I want this moment to mean something," I say, my voice steady despite the emotion swelling within me. "I may not have a ring, but I'm offering you something more valuable—my promise. My promise to love you, to support you, to be the man you deserve."

Tears glisten in her eyes, but she's smiling, nodding for me to continue.

"Will you accept my promise?" I ask, holding her gaze.

"Yes," she breathes, and it's the sweetest sound I've ever heard.

I stand, pulling her into my arms, and our mouths meet in a kiss that's full of promise. It's a physical surrender to the bond we've forged, a commitment made.

"Elle," I whisper against her skin. "You're my family."

"And you're mine," she whispers back, her hands in my hair, guiding me closer.