Zoey winces. "Honey, indoor voice—"
"AND THERE'S THEO! AND GABE!Mom, Gabe is HUGE!"
"He's big, yes—"
I lean across Zoey, close enough to catch the citrus of her shampoo. "Fun fact, Morgs. That giant out there? Put me in the hospital."
Morgan's mouth drops. "Gabedid that?!"
"One hit. Lights out. Week-long nap, thanks for coming."
"That'sso cool!"
"Colt!" Zoey hisses.
But she's moved on, and now Morgan is practically levitating as she starts fanning herself aggressively.
"Mom… Mom… IT'S SAMUEL VOSS! THE CAPTAIN! HE'S THECAPTAIN, MOM!"
Samuel glides past the bench, and Morgan waves the foam finger so hard she nearly takes out the man in front of us.
Zoey grabs the back of Morgan's jersey to keep her from toppling over the seat. She shoots me a look.
"If my daughter grows up to be a puck bunny, just know, it's entirely your fault."
I wink. "You're welcome."
The Snow Leopards complete their warm-up lap, the crowd building to a roar that crests when the starting lineup is announced. Lights strobe purple and gold as smoke pours from the tunnel. The leopard growl blasts from every speaker, and I feel it vibrate through the soles of my shoes and settle deep in my chest.
I'm home.
"So." Zoey settles back, arms crossed over her chest. "You going to explain the rules, or should I just figure it out?"
I open my mouth to launch into Hockey 101, but she cuts me off with an elbow to my ribs.
"I'm kidding. My brothers are professional hockey players, remember? I've been watching this sport since I could walk."
I rub my side, grinning. "Right. The Morrison brothers. I keep forgetting I'm sitting with hockey royalty."
"Hardly royalty." She reaches across me for a handful of popcorn, and the brush of her arm against mine sends heat straight through my jacket. "More like hockey peasants who got lucky."
"Declan Morrison scored forty-two goals for the Beachside Bears last season. That's not luck."
Her eyebrow lifts, impressed. "You actually follow his stats?"
"I told you, the man separated my shoulder in juniors. You don't forget someone who hits like a freight train." I lean back, stretching my arm along the back of her seat. Not around her. Just…near. "What was it like? Growing up with three hockey brothers?"
She's quiet for a second, her eyes following the puck as it drops for the opening faceoff. Samuel wins it and slides it straight to Cade.
"Loud." A small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Our house was always loud. Equipment everywhere. Sticks in thehallway. Skates drying on the kitchen radiator. Mom worked doubles at the hospital, and Dad drove a delivery route, so most nights it was just me and the boys."
"And you were basically their mom."
"Yeah. I was theireverything." She huffs a laugh, but it's warm. "I made dinner every night. Packed their lunches. When I was old enough, I drove Mason to early morning practice because Dad's truck wouldn't start and Mom was already at the hospital."
"You drove them?! You were…"
"Seventeen."
