Page 198 of Over the Line

I was nodding before he finished the question. “I’m ready. I want to live my life on my terms now. And maybe not beat my body to a pulp any more than I already have.”

Garrett smirked. “Does that mean we have to go easier in bed?”

“Pfft. Absolutely not.” I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him in close. “In fact, it means fewer nights where I have to go easy in bed.” Grinning, I added, “Imagine all the things we’ll be able to do when I’m not beat all to shit from hockey.”

He returned my grin, making my toes curl, and he slid a hand up into my hair. “Is it wrong that I suddenly can’t wait for the off season?”

I chuckled. “I mean, I’m hoping we make a run for the Cup, but otherwise… same.”

We both laughed, and then he claimed my mouth. I didn’t know if we’d end up in bed—he was probably still drained from meeting with his daughter—but this was enough. This was more than enough. Just holding him close, sharing this moment of affection… I didn’t care if it segued into sex or if we fell asleep like this. I was too happy to care.

This was the life that waited for me after I retired. This was the start of the future I hadn’t been able to envision until very, very recently.

I knew to my bones that I would miss hockey, and that my last game would be heart-wrenching.

But these days, I was looking forward to my post-hockey life in ways I never imagined I would.

EPILOGUE

GARRETT

Almost two years later.

“That sweater looks good on you.” I elbowed Liam playfully as we laced up our skates. “Feel weird, wearing a different number?”

Chuckling, he looked down at the fifty-five on his sleeve. “It’s different, that’s for sure.” He touched the same number on my arm and grinned. “I like it, though.”

“Me too.” I did. In fact, I was still surprised he’d wanted to wear it. Or that he’d be wearing it again on next month’s dads’ trip. Not that he ever passed up an opportunity to go to a hockey game, but he was always there as Liam St. Clair. Tonight, and on the upcoming trip, he happily—proudly, even—wore my son’s jersey.

When Chris had suggested Liam come along on the dads’ trip, he’d jumped at the chance. No one had protested him bringing along two dads. In fact, one of the rookies had shyly asked if he could also bring his two dads along. That was an instant and unanimous yes.

Tonight, we were in Pittsburgh. Like the rest of the Phantoms and their families, we’d come to the otherwise quiet arena for the annual family holiday skate.

Hand in hand, Liam and I walked up the chute, then glided out onto the ice. Some heads turned, and some of his old teammates did double takes, but I didn’t think it was because of us, per se. They just weren’t used to seeing Liam St. Clair in a Chris Kane jersey.

I wasn’t used to it either, but I definitely liked it.

Chris and Liam had formed a unique bond. Professionally, Liam had been a mentor and an idol for Chris. They’d become friends while Chris was a rookie. Now that Liam and I were together, they’d joked about their stepfather-stepson dynamic, but their relationship had mostly stayed the same. It was part of why I’d been so surprised Chris had asked him tonight and on the dads’ trip.

“It’s not weird to you, is it?” I’d asked him. “Thinking of him as something like a stepdad?”

Chris had shrugged. “I mean. it kind of is? But he’s still just Saints, you know? The fact that he’s dating my dad… Like yeah, technically he’s a stepdad—sort of—but he’s still Saints. Does that make sense?”

It did. Maybe it wasn’t the most traditional dynamic between an adult child and his parent’s partner, but it worked for them. It worked for us.

My other kids had quickly warmed up to Liam as well. The older two were a little uncertain at first because he was only nine and ten years older than them, but that hadn’t lasted long.

“If someone had asked me how I felt about my dad dating someone less than a decade older than me,” Nick had said last Christmas, “yeah, it would’ve been weird. But seeing you two together—you’re obviously happy. You obviously respect each other and love each other. Maybe it’s just because I saw how miserable you were with Mom. I don’t know. But the age just doesn’t factor in when I see you with him.”

“To be fair,” Ally had pointed out in another conversation, “they were super young when we were born. Anyone who’s even a little bit younger than Dad is going to seem weirdly close to our ages.”

She had a point. And to my still undying relief, she was here tonight along with her other siblings. Liam and I skated up to join them, and we all chuckled as Ally’s husband struggled a bit in his skates.

“You all make this look so easy,” Lewis said. “It’s hard!”

“You get used to it,” Ally said with a laugh. “It’s easier if you start young, though.”

“That’s the truth,” Liam said. “And speaking of…” He nodded past us, and we all turned.