Page 232 of The Pucking Coach's Daughter

“Yeah, she’s circled back to your dad by now. Nice of them to play along, huh, princess?” Penn grins. “Ollie’s idea, of course. He went to your dad and made some dramatic speech about loving you.”

I tilt my head back and stare. “Seriously?”

He shifts, his arm coming around me automatically. “Well, yeah. That was fun.”

“I recorded it,” Penn says. “Just, uh, for the record. We’ll play it for you later.”

“Can’t wait,” I whisper.

Because I can’t.

In a way, this just feels… unreal. Insane. And a little bit like the happily ever after I never thought I’d get, with three guys I know I can’t live without.

sydney

Five Months Later

Bracelet on. Necklace secured, the pendant in the hollow of my throat. Carter gifted me earrings not too long ago. They’re little daggers with rubies in the hilt. A subtle acknowledgement of his kinks… and one of mine. Those are in my earlobes now.

To be fair, I wear all three pieces every day. They’re armor, a safety blanket, a reminder.

It’s been five months of seeing how things go. Of making it work as a unit of four.

But it’s been slow. Inching progress instead of a sprint.

Of course, that’s because there’s been a lot happening. Just because some good things were happening in my life doesn’t mean the trauma left me. I still have nightmares. I still occasionally flinch at random things, like the sound of chains or trunks slamming or even tall, bulky men coming at me on the sidewalk.

Holidays. Classes. Hockey.

Some weeks, it felt like I barely saw Carter. Being at a different school, on a different schedule and often playing away games in different cities meant too much time apart.

But now, FSU has made it to the Frozen Four championship game. In supreme irony, St. James was eliminated in the first round by a team from Minnesota.

Carter waits for me in my living room. I’ve barely spent time in my apartment, but I couldn’t pull focus for Oliver, Penn, or my dad. Perri and I went to dinner a few nights, and Carter has been around more since his season ended.

It’s been nice, but I’m still craving time with all three of them.

Together.

Today, Carter is wearing an FSU home jersey with Penn’s name and number. The twenty on the sleeves and back, Walker across his shoulders.

“You look good in Framingham colors,” I tell him.

His gaze drinks me in. “So do you.”

I opted for black leggings and a long sleeve purple shirt, with an oversized jersey, emblazoned with the C on the chest, over it. For the record—I refused to wear his actual stinky jersey. This one, along with the one Carter wears, came from the merch table at a game.

He reels me in, hands on my hips, and places a kiss at the corner of my lips.

I smile.

“Ready?” He picks up a to-go coffee cup from my counter and hands it to me.

“Ready,” I confirm.

We’ve got a four-hour drive to get to the game, and then we’re staying overnight in the same hotel as the hockey team. Which means while Carter was in charge of supplying caffeine, I loaded up with snacks from the store near campus.

On the street, he opens the passenger door for me, waiting until I’m situated to close it gently and hurry around to the driver’s side.