Page 73 of Hockey Nanny

The kitchen went quieter, like the house itself was listening. Boone straightened, giving me his full attention for once. Gage set the juice down and leaned back against the counter, arms folding loosely, eyes on me in that steady way that always made me feel seen.

“Well,” Boone said after a beat, surprisingly thoughtful, “calling dibs was never gonna work anyway.”

Gage shot him a look. “Boone—”

“Why not date us both?” Boone finished, completely unfazed, gesturing between himself and Gage like he was presenting options on a menu.

My brain stalled.

The room tilted just a little, the way it does when something impossible steps into reality without knocking first. I stared at him, mouth opening and closing once before sound finally followed.

“I—” I laughed, breathless and disbelieving. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” Boone said easily. “Very.”

I looked at Gage, searching his face for the punchline, the denial, the inevitable shutdown. Instead, he shrugged, a faint pink creeping up his neck.

“For once,” he said, voice low, “I agree with Boone.”

That did it. That broke something open in me.

“I thought about it,” I admitted, the confession tumbling out now that the door was cracked. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. But I didn’t think you’d ever… actually want that. Not really.”

Boone’s grin returned full force. “Why not? I can share.”

“You make it sound like we’re splitting a bag of potato chips.” Gage rolled his eyes.

“Hey, you just agreed with me. You can’t change your mind now.”

My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. The idea settled into me slowly, like my body was testing it for fit. Dating both of them. Not sneaking around. Not choosing. Just… allowing myself to want what I wanted.WhomI wanted.

Boone stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the heat of him, his fingers brushing my wrist. “No pressure,” he said, softer now. “We’re not trying to corner you.”

Gage nodded. “If it’s not what you want, we walk it back. No need for complications.”

I swallowed, eyes flicking between them, the kitchen suddenly too small for the magnitude of the moment. The stove beeped impatiently behind me, and I laughed weakly, flipping a pancake just before it burned.

“God,” I said. “I can’t believe this is my life.”

Boone leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, warm and unapologetic. “Welcome to the beautiful chaos.”

I turned then, hands braced on the counter, looking at both of them in turn. “Okay,” I said, the word trembling but true. “Okay. I’ll— I’ll date you both.”

Boone whooped, loud enough to make Henry shout from the living room. Gage laughed under his breath, relief easing the tension from his shoulders.

Before I could overthink it, Boone kissed me again, this time on the mouth, quick and with a smile that refused to go anywhere. Gage followed a second later, his hand cupping my jaw, the kiss slower, grounding, like he was anchoring the moment in reality.

The smell of pancakes burning finally snapped us apart.

“Shit,” I yelped, spinning back to the stove.

We saved breakfast by sheer luck, laughing as we plated the last of it, the energy between us light and electric. Small touches, easy, already familiar.

And yet.

As Henry chattered happily at the table and Boone stole bites off Gage’s plate, that quiet ache remained, shaped unmistakably like Dawson. His absence pressed in on me even as joy bloomed elsewhere, a reminder that this story wasn’t finished yet.

I smiled anyway, holding onto the happiness I could touch, even as my heart waited for the piece still missing.