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She’s asleep already as I tuck us both into her bed together, sending a quick text to Sahara and Harris that I’m staying at a friend’s house, before kissing her forehead and murmuring, “I love you,” against her hair.

Over and over, like a lullaby, until I follow her to sleep.

Chapter 54

Toren

“Nice shot, Kane.”

The shock and disbelief of hearing those words from Rhys Koteskiy’s mouth is too much for me to stifle.

Everyone is in a good mood; our semifinal game was a victory and now all that’s left is the Frozen fucking Four. Finally.

I’m half convinced our good-spirited practice is due to an absent LaBlanc. But I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth—and certainly not one as desperately needed at this.

We finish up with a final pep talk from Harris, who asks me to come to his office after I shower up and change out—and then we’re released.

“We’re all going to grab dinner,” Freddy says. “The girls, too, if you and Lily want to come.”

“Yeah,” Holden says, nodding. “I’m in. Tor, you could always come later? After the meeting?”

“I might,” I concede, pulling on my sweats and slinging my towel across my tattooed shoulders.

The guys all continue talking, but Holden presses a hand to the back of my neck. “Do you want me to stay? I can wait for you or just be close by.”

“No,” I say, but there’s a warmth there now where that fear used to be. “I’m all good. I’ll text you after and meet up, okay?”

He nods and smiles, before finishing up and heading out with our other friends.

Friends.

God, that still feels weird.

Turning the corner toward Harris’s office, I freeze.

LaBlanc is here, talking quietly with Sahara Harris just outside her husband’s office. My stomach flips, knees going weak as I try to take a step forward and just can’t.

“Toren,” Sahara calls, spotting me. She rushes over to where I still can’t move.

“What are you doing here?”

Her hands reach up to cup my face. “LaBlanc asked us both to be here. Are you okay? Did something happen?”

My chest squeezes tight, eyes closing as I fight back tears. I feel eighteen again.

Part of me is desperate to lean into her embrace, just in case this is the last time I get to hold on to her.

Screw it.

I fold her in a hug. She gasps for a moment, before returning it, tightening her arms and squeezing me closer.

“I’m sorry,” I breathe. “I’m sorry.”

“Toren, what—”

“Hey,” Harris calls, his head sticking out of his office. He looks for a long time at his wife and me. I wonder if he’s remembering last year, the Frozen Four. Does he regret it all? Will he?

Will she?