Page 235 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

“No, it’s Mom’s weird way of saying she loves us…apparently.”

Garrett appears with a beer for me before quickly wandering off again.

“Were the guys mad that you bailed on them?” she asks as I take a much-needed sip.

“No, they were too dumbfounded that I was going to my girl’s for the holidays. Meeting the parents and all that…apparently, it’s a big deal.” I try to play it off like I wasn’t nervous, but I think she can see through the act.

“They already love you. You have nothing to worry about.”

“They love me as a hockey player,” I point out, aware that Martin is a fan.

“That’s one of the reasons, yes. They know you’re a good person, too.”

I want to argue, to ask if she told them about our time apart and what they thought of me then, but I’m too scared to bring it up.

Sienna snuggles closer, resting her head on my shoulder. My arm wraps around her waist, holding her close.

I’m aware that we have eyes on us. Word has most certainly gotten around that a professional athlete has joined them. Thankfully, everyone is being respectful and staying away right now. I have noticed a few guys go over to Martin and dig for information, though.

“So, what do you think so far?” she asks. “It’s a little crazy, isn’t it?”

“I think it’s great. I’ve never done anything like this,” I confess.

“Are you hungry? You should come and try the food we spent all day making.”

She takes my hand and leads me toward the food table. It’s vast and full of everything anyone could possibly want the night before Christmas.

“You did all this?” I ask in awe.

“Oh, no. Not all of it.” She starts pointing out the dishes that she worked on this afternoon, and I make sure to take one of everything. She watches me with a smile on her face as she loads up a second plate for herself.

“How long are you staying for?” Sienna asks once we’re back at the table.

“I’ve got the same flight home as you.”

Delight flashes in her eyes.

“You don’t need to be back before then?”

“Nope, I’m all yours. As long as you want me, of course. I know you and your family have plans. If you don’t want me hanging around, I’ve booked into a hotel and⁠—”

She reaches up and presses her palm over my mouth.

“I want you here for everything.”

I smile, and she drops her hand.

“About what you said earlier…” she hedges.

“Which part specifically?”

She looks down at her plate, her cheeks heating. “The bit about me being your girl,” she says so quietly it almost gets swallowed up by the Christmas music spilling from the speakers in the corners of the room.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Are we like…is this…what are—” She cuts herself off when I laugh.

“If you’re asking if we’re official, if you’re my girlfriend, then the answer is yes, if you want to be.”