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I stripped out of my sweatpants, kicking them aside before crawling onto the bed. I kissed my way up her body, lavishing every curve, every muscle, every freckle, with attention. It was as if one word thrummed in my blood, pounding in time with my heartbeat. Mine. Mine. Mine.

When I reached her mouth, I slanted mine over hers—a kiss full of gratitude, adoration, and promise. A promise that I would remember her needs and put them first, even if we’d said that hockey came first. A promise that we would find a way to do this—together.

She arched up to meet me as if in answer, moaning as my cock slid through her folds. Unhhh. She felt so good.

“Too good.” I pressed my forehead to hers, needing a moment to regain my control. But it felt as if I were standing in quicksand, fighting against forces I couldn’t understand or contain.

I was desperate to be inside her, and the way she clawed at me told me she felt the same. I leaned over, reaching for my nightstand to grab a condom.

She grabbed my wrist, pausing my movements. “When was the last time you were tested?”

I…what? I searched her gaze, wanting to make sure I understood. When she bit back a smile and nodded, I swallowed hard, trying to process this information.

“Beginning of the season. Before you, I hadn’t been with anyone—” I glanced down and away “—in a while. And even then, never without condoms.”

“How long is a while?” she asked, and I could hear the curiosity in her tone.

“I, um…” I chuckled. “An embarrassingly long time.”

“For reference, what’s an embarrassingly long time?” she asked. “Because I’m guessing I might have you beat there.”

“Yeah?” I smiled down at her, brushing her hair away from her face. I was inordinately pleased by her statement. “Is eighteen months embarrassing enough?”

“I, uh—” She cleared her throat. “Yeah. I suppose it is, considering what I expected you to say.”

“Mm.” I rolled us so she was on top, straddling me. “And what did you expect me to say?”

She smoothed her hands up my chest, her eyes tracking my tattoos. “I don’t know. A month, maybe two.” It came out as a question.

“Oh come on.” I tucked my hand behind my head, slightly insulted. “Give me a little credit here.”

“You’re right. That wasn’t fair of me.” She kissed my temple. “I was also tested at the beginning of the season, and my results were clear. You’re the only person I’ve been with since then.”

I felt as if I might shatter in that moment—from her admission, from her trust and vulnerability. I wanted her to know it wasn’t something I took lightly.

“Same.” I cupped the back of her neck, bringing her mouth down to mine. I brushed my lips against hers, wanting her to feel my sincerity, my relief.

Logan slid over me, distracting me. “If you want to continue using condoms,” she said, grinding against me, “we can. But if you don’t, I have an IUD, and I trust you.”

“I—” I swallowed hard, eyes bouncing between hers as if searching for confirmation. “Are you—” Oh god. The friction. Her body. I really should not be having this conversation when she is doing that with her hips. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

Fuck yes.

“Then put my cock inside you and show me,” I rasped, scarcely able to get the words out.

She repositioned herself, sliding down on me inch by inch. I watched the progression until I’d disappeared in her completely. I hadn’t expected it to make a huge difference—not wearing a condom, but I’d also never tried it. And oh, how wrong I’d been. It was so much more than even the physical connection; everything felt more intimate—physically, emotionally. Neither of us lasted much longer after that. But I forced myself to keep my eyes open the entire time, wanting to remember this moment always.

Later, after we’d cleaned up and were lying in bed once more, she nestled in my arms. I used the remote to flick through the channels, looking for something to watch.

“Wait,” Logan said, and I paused on the sports channel where they were replaying the Stanley Cup Final.

“You really want to watch this?” I chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You were there.”

“But I missed part of the second period, remember? And there were some really sick plays. I planned to rewatch to see how I could incorporate them into my game.”

I pulled her even tighter to my side, loving her ambition. Loving her.