Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
I wait for him outside the locker room, my heart still racing from the game and from everything that’s happened between us tonight. I can’t stop smiling, can’t stop thinking about the fact that this is real now—we’re real.
It doesn’t take long before York steps out, still slightly damp from his post-game shower, his hair tousled in that effortlessly handsome way. His suit, pristine and perfectly tailored, radiates a polished sophistication. The second he sees me, his smile matches mine, and without a word, he pulls me into his arms.
We don’t need to say anything. The connection between us is stronger than ever, and as we walk out of the arena, hand in hand, everything feels right. We head back to his place together, the cold night air biting at our skin, but neither of us care. We’re happy, truly happy, and I know that no matter what happens next, we’ll figure it out together.
Epilogue
York
It’s Christmas again, and everything feels different this year—better, warmer, like the world has fallen into place. Noelle and I are back visiting her parents, and after all the festivities, we decided to sneak away to the practice rink for old time’s sake. The place is completely empty, just how we remember it, and for a moment, it feels like stepping into a memory.
We stand by the edge of the rink, staring at the Zamboni parked in the corner. Noelle crosses her arms, eyeing it with the kind of curiosity that always makes me grin.
“Think they’d let me drive it?” she asks, her voice full of naughtiness.
I chuckle, shaking my head. “I think we both know that’s a disaster waiting to happen.”
She shoots me a playful glare. “Oh, come on! I’d be amazing at it. Smooth turns, perfect lines. I’d be a Zamboni artist.”
I raise an eyebrow, leaning in a little closer. “The last time you tried to drive anything was that go-kart in the summer, and you nearly took out three kids and a hot dog stand.”
She rolls her eyes, though I can see the smile tugging at her lips. “I was distracted, okay? You were doing that thing with your hair.”
I laugh, pulling her into my arms, wrapping them around her as we both stare out at the rink. “Sure, blame me. But we’re not adding Zamboni operator to your resume. Besides, I don’t think your dad would appreciate me letting you crash into the boards.”
Noelle leans her head against my chest, her laugh soft and warm. “I’d crash gracefully.”
“Gracefully into a wall,” I tease, kissing the top of her head.
We stand there for a moment, just enjoying the quiet, the soft echo of our voices in the empty rink. It’s hard to believe a year ago, everything felt so uncertain. But now, with her in my arms, it’s like I’ve finally found exactly where I’m supposed to be.
“You know,” she says, her voice softer now, “I used to sit in these stands and watch you practice all the time.”
I smirk, glancing down at her. “Oh, I remember. You were always pretending not to stare.”
She laughs, nudging me playfully. “I wasn’t pretending. I was studying. I had to make sure my dad’s best player was doing everything right.”
“Mmm, sure. Is that why you had a crush on me?”
Noelle looks up at me, her blue eyes sparkling with a mix of teasing and sincerity. “Maybe. You weren’t too bad to look at, you know.”
I grin, tightening my hold on her. “You weren’t too bad yourself.”
We fall into a comfortable silence, just standing there in the rink where so much of our story began. I can’t help but feel like this is exactly where we were meant to end up—back where it all started, but this time, together.
“Remember the last time we were here?” I ask her.
Her smile widens. “Yeah. I wasn’t too bad of a Zamboni driver then, was I?”
I laugh, squeezing her closer. “Yeah, if I remember correctly I was the one driving that night.”
She smiles, and it nearly takes my breath away. “You were definitely driving.”
“Still have those panties?” I ask her, remembering the pair she had on that night.
She pulls away from me, laughing. “I actually have another pair you might like better.”
“I’ll have to be the judge of that.”
She rushes over to the Zamboni, climbing into the seat. “Ready?”
I nod, licking my lips. “Yeah.”
She lowers her pants, and on the front of the panties is a candy cane with the saying, it’s not going to lick itself.
“Those are my new favorite pair,” I say, moving closer. I sit in the seat of the Zamboni, memories flooding back. I tap my lap, wanting her sweet little ass there. “Come sit on Santa’s lap,” I tell her with a laugh.
She rolls her eyes playfully at me, and sits down. “I already have everything I could ever possibly want.”