37. Luke

Chapter 37

Luke

T hree weeks on the sidelines. Three weeks of sitting out, nursing a concussion, and watching my team claw their way through the playoffs without me. Three weeks of more soul-searching than I thought possible. But I’m here. I made it back.

It never would have happened without Keke’s help.

In my absence, the guys have pulled off a small miracle. They’ve kept fighting and grinding, proving everyone wrong. And even though it eats me up to be sidelined, I’ve never been prouder to call these guys my teammates. I’ve watched every play, memorized every goal from the bench, and each win feels like both a victory and a personal reminder that this team is more than just one man.

I wish Lucas would understand that.

His little stunt had almost ended my career and it’d certainly ended his. After that cheap shot, management didn’t hesitate— Lucas was gone within days. His future in pro hockey was obliterated. That is something I need to make peace with.

The truth is, I feel bad for the kid.

Yeah, he probably earned it. That hit had been reckless, desperate, and dangerously illegal. I hit the ice after taking off my helmet. I could have died. Some of the fans went public, stating he should have been arrested for it, saying it had been a calculated move, but I know he wasn’t trying to kill me.

At least, I’m pretty sure he wasn’t.

There are already enough voices in Lucas’s life punishing him. Mine doesn’t need to be one of them. I’m not about to ruin his life over one mistake, even if it had been a big one. When asked, I told Whitney not to bother pursuing it.

She had other ideas.

So did Keke.

She felt I was being too lenient. She said I was letting him off easy, that I should have pushed for harsher consequences. In fact, she stewed about it for days. Over breakfast one morning, she asks, “The thing with Lucas is the car fire all over again, isn’t it?”

I sip my coffee and smile. “Let it go, Keke.”

“You might be able to let it go but I can’t. If I ever see that asshole again, I’m taking something he values very dearly.”

I frown at that. “What do you mean?”

“He won’t be having kids.”

“Keke!”

She shrugs and goes back to her laptop, furiously typing away.

I can’t talk her out of her anger, you can’t talk someone out of something they feel from instinct. But I have to admit, I like how she’s so protective of me. Dare I say it feels a little like love.

As far as Lucas goes, I’d done a lot of stupid things at his age, and I know how ambition can cloud your judgment. I’d seen it all over Hollywood, as well. People will do anything to become a star. I know how the pressure can warp your sense of right and wrong.

Lucas has a long road ahead of him and a lot of growing up to do. I hope he’s able to get the help he needs.

As for me, I’m finally ready.

The lights are blinding, the sound of the crowd a deafening roar. The fans are happy to see me on the ice again as much as I am happy to be here. This is what I’ve been waiting for, what I’ve trained for through every grueling early morning session, every second of rehab, every day on the sidelines. The energy pulses through me, sharp and electric, pushing me forward.

The game itself is a blur of motion. My teammates stay with me, matching my pace. We fight for every inch together. Adrenaline floods through me, my senses sharp, every thought laser-focused. My body falls into the natural rhythm of the game, instinct kicking in and muscle memory taking over.

The ice is mine.

Then, it happens—the opening I’ve been waiting to seize. My gaze locks on the distracted goalie as my teammates skate toward him from the sides. I pull off the move I’d practiced a hundred times in training, my body executing each shift, each turn with a precision that feels effortless.

I score, and the crowd erupts, jumping to their feet.

The final buzzer sounds, signaling our victory. The sound is deafening, not because it’s loud, but because we know what it means for us. We did it. We’re moving forward, and I am here to be a part of it. The team shouts with the fans. They clap me on the back, pulling me into a huddle of celebration, and for a moment, I let myself get lost in the joy of it, the raw exhilaration that only comes from a hard-earned win.

I search for her amidst the chaos, the laughter, and the triumphant shouts.

Keke is standing at the boards, her face lit up in a way that makes my heart skip a beat. She’d stayed by my side when I was at my lowest. Even though the doctors cleared me, they weren’t sure I’d ever play again. But she’d never wavered, not once.

The scowl she’d given the doctor was pure daggers. “With all due respect, doctor, that’s bullshit.”

“The MRI indicates?—”

“The MRI doesn’t tell you anything about how hard he is willing to work. He can walk, and if you knew him at all, you’d know that means that he can skate. So, keep your doom and gloom to yourself.”

He winced then looked at me, as if I was going to help him silence her.

“She’s right, doc. Never argue with Keke. She’s in charge here, so get on board. How do we get my coordination back?”

He shoved his glasses up his nose, exasperated. “Alright then…”

That was the beginning of my extensive physical therapy, the only reason I was on the ice now.

I skate over to her. Keke watches me with that steady gaze, my anchor through the storm. She isn’t just the woman who helped me through rehab, who kept me grounded when I was losing hope. She is my everything. The one I want to share this moment with. The one I want to share every moment with.

I reach her, pulling off my helmet as I lean in and capture her lips in a kiss. Her arms wrap around my neck and the world slips away, replaced by the warmth of her touch, the softness of her lips against mine.

Nothing else matters in this moment. Not the game, not the noise, not the crowd. It’s just the two of us. When we pull away, I look into her eyes, my heart pounding as I whisper the words I’d been holding back from saying for three weeks. “I love you, Keke.”

If she didn’t say it back, I’d learn to live with that. But I couldn’t keep it inside any longer.

She presses her forehead to mine. “I love you too, Luke.”

I’m breathless. I grin, feeling like I’d just won the game all over again. She loves me. She’d finally said it.

I kiss her again, deeper this time, my hands tangled in her hair, my mind racing with a mix of gratitude and awe. She’s here, she’s mine, and I’m not about to let her go.

When we finally break apart, I look at her as I brush a strand of hair away from her face. “You’re stuck with me now, you know that, right?”

She laughs, a shy sound that makes my heart ache with a fierce protectiveness. I hold her close, feeling the warmth of her body against mine. I know that this is only the beginning, there is so much more waiting for us.

Together, we will weather whatever life throws at us. And I am more than ready to dive into it, to build a life with her.

Because with her, I feel whole.

With her, I am home.

“I mean it, you know. I’m not going anywhere.”

She smiles up at me, her eyes shining with emotion that makes my heart race.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”