Page 115 of Ice Queen

His jaw works. I watch the mental battle as he makes a choice, the same way I’ve witnessed over the months. Fire or ice? Protecting me and trusting me. And yet again, he chooses the right one.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I mean it in a way that hasn’t felt this genuine in two years. “I really am.”

Savannah clears her throat, her hands wringing in front of her as she steps closer. “Markus, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“It’s okay, Sav.” Markus pulls her into a hug. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

“Well…” Savannah sings as she skips down the hallway, shaking her phone over her shoulder.

“Did she just…” Markus asks, scratching his head while he watches her go.

“Record the whole thing on her phone?” I tip my head.

He stares at me for a minute. Something in his face softens. It’s not quite a smile, more like awe. “You set the whole thing up.”

I smooth my hand over his chest. “Told you I’d handle it.”

He laughs, and it rumbles deep in his chest. “You sure did.”

Mr. Collins lingers, hands balled in his pockets. He looks at Markus, a silent apology on his face. “For what it’s worth,” he says, “I’ve known Sterling wasn’t the right fit for some time. I should have moved faster.” He clears his throat. “Your contract extension is on my desk.” He pauses. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Markus nods once. “Thank you, sir.”

Mr. Collins tips his chin toward me. “Young lady.” And then he’s gone.

I smile up at Markus. “Go change, Casanova. Take me home.”

His smile is slow-growing and straight sinful. “Lo que quieras, mi reina.⁠*” He kisses my cheek, then rounds the corner.

I might have felt bad a year ago, but I don’t now. I know what I deserve, and I know what he deserves. And we both got exactly that. Two years ago, I fled with $7,800 in cash and a duffel bag. I’d convinced myself I was the problem. Too much, too sensitive, too hungry, too loud.

I look up at the ceiling, blinking back tears before I push off the wall and head in the direction Markus went.

I round the corner and almost collide with him. He looks down at me like he always does, like I'm something he can’t quite believe exists. I think about every star that had to align to put us both in that bar on that night, and I thank every single one of them, because they led me here.

To him. To us.

“I love you,” I whisper, pushing up on my toes to kiss him. “Now, take me home. I have a new toy, and I want to celebrate with you while I wear your jersey.”

His head falls forward, an animalistic growl rumbling from his chest. He lifts his head slowly, eyes dark, warm, and entirely mine.

“Mi reina,” he says it like a prayer. “Let’s go.”

His fingers thread through mine, and he pulls me down the hallway, out the door, and straight for a future I can’t wait to live with him.

* whatever you want, my queen

CHAPTER 37

Markus

It’s been a hell of a month since we won the Stanley Cup, and I don’t think it’s fully sunk in yet. Some moments still feel like a dream. The quiet ones, mostly. Like grabbing Kait’s hand and pulling her into me, so we can dance to whatever song is playing through the speakers in our home. Or the moment I came home from morning skate to find her lying on her stomach in nothing more than a navy blue, lace thong on our bed in front of the cup.

But I think my favorite is the fact that her strawberry créme shampoo is in my shower, her cupcake-smelling lotion on my bathroom counter, and everything that was mine is now ours. It feels like winning the cup all over again every day I get to wake up with her leg thrown over my waist, and an adorable pool of drool on my chest.

I look out over Monroe’s patio and realize today feels like one of those moments, too. It’s the first time we’ve all gotten together for book club since we finished the bodyguard book. Playoffs got the better of us all, not that I’ll admit how fast I devoured that book to anyone but Kait.