Page 174 of The Offside Rule
“I can’t wait for your research project to be over so I can have you in my bed every night,” he said.
“I want that too,” I admitted.
“Christmas,” he said, lacing his fingers with mine.
“Christmas,” I repeated. I felt my eyes growing heavy. Hunter kissed me on the lips.
“Sleep, beautiful,” he said softly, and as I drifted off, I dreamed of him.
EPILOGUE
Catherine Celia
By Christmas, I had finished my research with the Blaze, moved into Hunter’s condo, and learned that living with him and Isla meant there was glitter everywhere. Our relationship was out in the open now. Not in some huge dramatic way. The team and staff knew, and everyone handled it respectfully.
Tonight, everyone was coming here for Christmas dinner. To our home. That part still made my chest do something weird since I had only moved in with Hunter and Isla last week. My textbooks were stacked in the corner of the living room. My mug sat beside Hunter’s coffee machine. Isla’s drawings covered the fridge. A Christmas tree stood by the window, decorated with hockey skates, lopsided angels, a Moana ornament, and one handmade decoration Isla had given me that said OUR FIRST CHRISTMAS in crooked red letters.
I cried when she gave it to me. Now Hunter stood beside me in the kitchen, wearing dark pants and a black sweater, stirring gravy like he was not a professional athlete but someone’s hot suburban husband.
“You’re doing the panic face,” he said.
“I’m not panicking.”
“You’re aggressively checking the potatoes.”
“They need checking.”
“They’ve been checked.”
I pointed the serving spoon at him. “Don’t start with me before both of our families arrive.”
His mouth twitched. “Yes, ma’am.”
The doorbell rang before I could panic more.
Isla shot out of her room. “They’re here!”
“Walk,” Hunter called.
She walked for two seconds, then ran. My parents came in first. Mom carried dessert even though I told her not to bring anything. Dad carried wine and the expression of a man who had accepted reality but still wanted credit for it. Mila came in behind them wearing sparkly tights. Jaden followed with his hair in his eyes, pretending he was too cool for Christmas dinner while immediately looking toward the presents.
“Merry Christmas,” Mom said, hugging me.
“Merry Christmas.”
Dad looked around the apartment. His gaze landed on the tree, then Isla, then Hunter’s hand on my lower back. Hunter slowly moved his hand. I bit my lip.
“Merry Christmas, Cole,” Hunter said.
Dad held out the wine. “Russell.”
“Dad,” I said. He needed to go back to calling him Hunter like he had done before the days Hunter and I got together.
“What? I brought wine,” Dad said, pretending that counted as being nice.
“That was almost friendly,” Mom said.
Dad grunted. “Don’t push it.”
