22. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Leo

I flop onto the hotel bed, my body aching from tonight's game. We pulled off the win, but fuck, it was a close one.

My eyes start to drift shut, the soft mattress swallowing me whole. But the quiet is short-lived. My phone buzzes and I grab it off the nightstand, a text from Cat flashing across the screen.

Cat: Kids are good. Mason says congrats on the win. Stella wants to know if you can bring her back one of those tiny shampoo bottles.

Me: Tell Stella I already know the drill, and tell Mason thanks. I’ll see you three when I get home tomorrow.

I inhale deeply, my fingers hovering over the phone screen as I reread my text, fixating on one word.

Home.

Going home isn't just about returning to my kids anymore. It's becoming about Cat too. About listening to her day, learning more about how the school system operates from her perspective. And also trying to help her figure out things with Rosa, even if it's just to sit there and listen to her vent.

I set the phone down, my hand trembling slightly as I scrub it over my face. My mind wanders to a few days ago, when we fucked in the car. It wasn't just sex. There was something more, something that scares the shit out of me.

Because I haven’t felt that way . . . well, since Wendy. The butterflies in my stomach, the way my heart races when Cat’s near—it reminds me of when I first started dating, fumbling and nervous but excited.

A sharp knock at the door cuts through my thoughts. Probably Wyatt, wanting to celebrate. I heave myself off the bed, muscles protesting. My joints creak as I stretch, feeling every one of my thirty-two years.

The door barely opens before Wyatt pushes through, his fist connecting with my jaw. Pain explodes across my face, the taste of copper flooding my mouth. I stumble back, more shocked than hurt. “What the fuck?”

“You slept with Cat? After I told you she was off-limits?”

My hands curl into fists at my sides and I square my shoulders, making every inch of my 6'5” frame count. “How the fuck did you find out?”

He looks at me like I've grown a second head, his nostrils flaring. “Are you serious right now? Nora is her best friend. Don't you think they talk?”

My stomach drops, a cold sweat breaking out across my skin. Shit. I was afraid of this.

“Cat should've kept our business to herself.” My teeth clench as the last syllable hangs in the air, and I instantly regret the words.

Wyatt's eyes narrow dangerously as he grabs my shirt, slamming me against the wall. “Don't you dare fuck with Cat’s and Nora's relationship. They're like sisters. And I will protect what's important to my wife, especially since Cat’s nothing more than a convenience.”

Like fuck.

I shove hard, sending him stumbling back, and take a swing at him, knuckles connecting with a satisfying thud. “She’s not a goddamn convenience, motherfucker. Don’t you ever fucking say shit like that again. Not when I’m falling for her, dammit!”

The admission hangs in the air between us, as a rush of vulnerability washes over me, leaving me bare, as if I’ve peeled away a protective layer and left myself exposed. My heart pounds hard against my ribcage, each beat echoing in my ears like a drum.

The tension in Wyatt’s face melts away and his jaw goes slack, falling slightly open. His eyes go wide, blinking rapidly, and then a hint of a smirk plays at his lips, like we weren’t just beating the shit out of each other. “Well, why didn't you say so?”

Sometimes I forget how easily he can flip his switch.

But before I can respond to the words that came tumbling out of my stupid mouth, someone else is knocking at the door.

“Everything okay in there? I heard shouting.” Ian’s voice filters through into the room.

Great. Just what I need. An audience.

Wyatt yanks open the door as I rub my jaw, wincing at the throb. The skin is tender, and I'm sure it'll bruise by morning. Fantastic.

“Oh, shit. You two were throwing punches?”

Wyatt waves him off. “Just a misunderstanding. Come on in. Leo’s just about to tell us how he's in love with Cat.”

“I didn't say love. I said I might be falling for her.”

The two exchange a look that makes me want to punch something, then Ian quirks a brow. “And what do you think that means, dummy?”

I groan, sinking onto the bed. The mattress dips under my weight, and I resist the urge to just lie down and pretend this conversation isn't happening. They make themselves comfortable, clearly settling in for a long conversation I'm not sure I want to have. Ian leans against the desk, while Wyatt sprawls in the room's only chair.

“Come on, Sparkles. Spill it.”

Hate that fucking nickname. More so, hate my daughter right now because it’s her fault I have it.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Don't know, okay? It's been a long time since I've felt like this.”

“How long?” Ian’s voice is gentler than Wyatt's, calming even. His steady gaze encourages me to continue, despite my reluctance.

I swallow hard, the words sticking in my throat. “Haven't had a real date or relationship since Wendy died.”

Wyatt's eyes widen. “Wait, you mean you haven't had sex since—”

“No,” I cut him off, irritation flaring. I like to keep things private. But they’re my friends and opening up to them is important. For me as well as them. Doesn’t mean it’s easy. “I've hooked up. One-night stands, usually on away games. But nothing real.”

Ian looks down, picking at his nails. “I can relate to not having dated in a while.”

“Yeah?” I ask, curiosity overriding my desire to end this conversation.

He glances at Wyatt, then takes a deep breath. His shoulders rise and fall with the motion, as if he's steeling himself for something. “Yeah. It's . . . well, it's complicated when you're bisexual and in the NHL.”

Wyatt grins. “You gonna be mad he kept that from you?”

I shoot him a glare. “No, of course not. I understand how difficult that is. My brother's gay, and it took him a long time to tell me.”

A knot tightens in my chest. Sometimes I wish my brother had come to me first, before our parents. Instead, his call felt more like a final farewell. It wasn’t long after that he shut us all out, because of my mother.

I turn to Ian. “Thanks for trusting me with that. Anyone else on the team know?”

“Just you two. Don’t know the others well enough to talk about it really. And Wyatt’s known since we were teens.”

I nod, shifting on the bed to sit up a little straighter. “If anyone gives you shit, or you want to tell them, or just need an ear—because we all know talking to Wyatt sometimes is an exercise in frustration—I’m here for you.”

The conversation hits a lull, but it's not weird or anything. Just... heavy. I glance over at these two knuckleheads, and it suddenly clicks. These two are more like family to me than I realized.

“While I know better than to actually speak this out loud . . .” I look right at Wyatt. “You were right.”

Ian groans and curses under his breath as Wyatt punches a fist into the air, smiling wide, then looks at me, brows furrowed. “Uh, about what exactly?”

I laugh and shake my head. “About the team needing to gel more, that I need to put some of that enthusiasm I show with the Rockets into the Minotaurs. So Cat and I are putting together a team event at Mohegan Sun. Something to help us have a little fun and get to know one another better.”

Wyatt's eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Mohegan Sun? Count me in!”

Ian leans back in the hotel chair. “So, what’re you doing about Cat?”

I groan, flopping back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. “I have no fucking clue.”

Wyatt lets out a long whistle. “Better think of something because my future wife is in on this now. And I’m telling you from experience, you don’t marry or date just one of them.”

Ian chuckles. “Well, you could start by actually talking to her about your feelings. Use your words and shit.”

I flip them both off, but they're right, so I sigh, then ask, “And what exactly do I say?”

Wyatt rolls his eyes. “Man, you’re always overthinking shit. Just be honest, speak from the heart.”

Ian stands up, stretching. “He’s right. You just need to come clean. Easy as that.”

Easy? Maybe for him, but speaking from the heart has never been a strong suit for me, so I only nod.

Ian smiles, then yawns. “This has been fun, but I'm beat. Try not to punch each other anymore, okay?”

Wyatt stands too. “Yeah, heading back to my room. Nora should be calling soon to follow up on my ass whooping. So, make sure to play it up if she asks, and don’t fuck this thing with Cat up.”

“I'll try not to.”

As they leave, the silence of the room feels oppressive. My mind races, thoughts focusing on Cat and the way she challenges me, makes me laugh, and how she's become such an integral part of my life and my kids' lives.

A pang of guilt twists in my gut as Wendy’s face replaces Cat’s, her eyes—no, not her eyes—her presence, her warmth, the way she used to look at me with that soft smile that said everything would be okay. I made her a promise. But now, I can’t help but wonder—would she want me to move on? To find happiness again?

Or would that be a betrayal, a slap in the face to everything we had?

There’s also the team. We’re forming something real, something solid, both on and off the ice. I’ve been so damn focused on the game, on winning, that I’ve neglected the human side of it all—the connections, the camaraderie that makes a team more than just a group of guys in the same jersey. It’s something I intend to fix.

And then there’s me. The walls I’ve built around myself are high, impenetrable, each brick laid with care over the years. They’ve kept me safe, kept me from feeling too much, from getting too close.

But they’ve also kept me isolated, alone in a way that’s starting to feel unbearable. Maybe it’s time to start tearing those walls down, brick by brick, to let someone in again.

Fuck knows, if anyone’s worth it, it’s Cat.

I reach for my phone, setting the alarm for the morning. I’m actually looking forward to getting home, to seeing Cat, to figuring out what this thing between us could be. It’s terrifying, but also exciting.

I let out a slow breath, exhaustion from the game and from the emotional rollercoaster I’ve been on tonight, starts to seep into my bones. Tomorrow’s a new day. A chance to start fresh, to be better.

For the team. For my kids. For Cat.

And maybe, just maybe, for myself too.