Page 158 of Uncoachable

Maybe we both built this.

I squeeze her hand, grounding myself in the present.

Whatever comes next for us, whatever shape our future takes as we plan a wedding and a life, we aren’t afraid of the unknown anymore.

A kid skates way too fast nearby, loses his balance, and crashes into a pile of orange cones. Ivy groans dramatically, though there is a smile on her face.

“Finally! Some real excitement!” Cash yells from the bench, blowing his whistle like a man possessed.

Ivy flicks her hand at him in a dismissive gesture. “You’re lucky you don’t have to go out there and untangle those legs, Cash!”

“Excuse me?” he calls back, puffing out his chest. “I specialize in high-level chaos management! It’s in my contract!”

I roll my eyes and pull Ivy closer, whispering into her ear, “He still hasn’t learned that we don’t actually need order here. That’s the whole point.”

She laughs. “He’s exactly what we need. He’s unapologetically stupid, and it keeps everyone humble.”

I shake my head, kissing her temple. “I love that about you. Your ability to find the utility in a guy like Cash.”

She smirks, leaning back to look at me. “And I love that you still think I’m intimidating.”

“You are,” I admit. “But only to the people who are foolish enough to underestimate you. And I learned a long time ago never to do that.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“I’m right,” I counter.

Across the rink, Cash shouts something unintelligible about a hat trick, Scottie yells that she is “legally allowed to coach if Ivy is unavailable,”—but none of it touches the bubble we’re in.

Ivy bumps her hip against mine, her eyes playful. “You know, I have plans for us. Big, loud, ridiculous plans that involve more than just hockey rinks.”

“Like getting married,” I tease, bumping her back.

She rolls her eyes, but the smile that breaks across her face betrays her completely. “Yes, that. Obviously. But also a life that doesn’t need to be perfect to be good. A life full of people who yell at me, spill coffee on my blueprints, and somehow make me happier every single day I wake up.”

“Sounds incredibly exhausting, Ivy.”

She shrugs, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “It’s called love, Cal. Get used to it.”

I press my forehead to hers. “Then I guess I’m all in. Every single day. Every mess. Every ridiculous moment you can throw at me.”

She grins, bright and victorious. “Well, you don’t really have a choice, do you? I’m the coach. I call the plays.”

“And I’m the one who executes them,” I murmur, closing the gap to kiss her. “Whatever you want, honey. I’m yours.”

Outside, the city of Boston hums with its usual frantic energy, but inside the walls of Talvi Ice, the world is just ours.

We’ve chosen love over the league.

We’ve chosen a real life over a manufactured legacy.

We’ve chosen each other.

We are two people who were brave enough to stop playing the game the world designed for us so we could finally start playing our own.

The ice is scarred with the marks of a dozen skaters, the kids are loud and messy, and the future is wide open in front of us. We aren’t waiting for the final horn to blow anymore.

We’ve already won.