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"“Baby, how are you? Did you win?” Tristan shouted over club music when I called him. You didn’t watch? “Work dinner. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He hung up before I could breathe. I was still gripping the sink when somone appeared at the door. “Win, what happened?” Jake Abbot—my brothers’ teammate, my childhood shadow, the man who pretended I was just Wyatt’s annoying little sister. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” But it did. The bruise. The dizziness. The fifty missed calls from my dad— And none from the man who claimed to love me. Jake knelt beside me, warm hands steadying my shaking legs. “You’re the strongest person I know,” he whispered. “Even after that hit, you got back on the ice.” Then my phone rang again. Tristan. Jake answered. “She’s resting,” he said. Calm. Controlled. Dangerous. “I don’t care—where the fk is Winter?” Tristan barked. Jake’s jaw flexed. “If you want more information, call her father.” The line went dead. Jake looked at me, something raw in his eyes—something I’d been too blind to see. “Win… he hurt you.” “You don’t have to deal with him,” he said. “Not tonight.” Maybe not ever. Because when the man you’re supposed to marry disappears… the one who stays becomes impossible to ignore. And when the plane home landed, I had to face a truth I wasn’t ready for—who I was going back to… and who I couldn’t leave behind." --- Jake Abbot Being a goalie is never easy, but it’s worse when you are the reason your team is losing. Ever since we lost the championship last season, I’ve lost it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, and I’m bringing the entire team down with me. And so far this season I haven’t been able to pull my head out of this rut. The more we lose, the more the depression drags me under. “Hell yeah, Win,” my best friend and teammate cheered at the TV. Wyatt and I play for a team in the national hockey league, the Timberwolves. Wyatt is center on the starting line, and I’m the starting goalie, not that I could stop anything. The entire team was at the team manager's mansion to watch his daughter and Wyatt’s younger sister play for Gold with the women’s national team. If they win, this will be her third gold medal. The name Hart on the back of a jersey flashed by as she took a shot. I laughed when it bounced off the goalie's helmet, knowing all too well that she was seeing stars for a moment. “That’s my girl,” William, our team manager shouted. “I think she’s better than you, Wyatt,” our head coach and Wyatt’s older brother, Warren, chuckled. I snickered beside Wyatt, and he backhanded my chest in warning. I took a swig of my beer as I focused on the game. It was now or never Winter, I silently cheered her on. The game was tied in the third period and the clock was running down. If she was going to make a move she had better do it quickly. The whistle blew, calling off sides. I could see Winter was getting frustrated as she skated to the face-off. She was over her shift time, but I knew, being the captain, that she was determined to win her team another gold medal. “Keep calm, little one,” William muttered as we watched, holding our breath. She was playing our country’s rivals, and she didn’t want to lose. Winning the face-off in the other team's zone, she passed it to her right-winger, who was instantly covered by the defense of the other team. She whipped it to the boards and Winter picked it up again. Dodging players from the other team, she took a shot. There were two minutes left. The room was now standing as we waited to see if the puck hit the back of the net. It happened so fast, the siren blared with the goal, but it was Winter who I couldn’t take my eyes off. The rival captain cross-checked her from behind, sending her down and sliding into the boards. “What ?” William yelled, throwing his hands in the air. The ref blew the whistle, not that it mattered, Winter wasn’t moving. My heart stopped beating as we waited for the announcers to announce something. “Number twenty-five, Hart has taken a nasty hit. We are waiting for news of her injury.” The arena booed as the ref threw the player off the ice. The room here booed the TV. I would have as well, but I couldn’t breathe. “Get up,” Wyatt yelled beside me. Get up, I repeated in my head over and over again. Her coach and medic were rushing onto the ice, as her right-winger knelt beside her. We should be there. If our season wasn’t in full swing we would have been, but that did nothing to ease the guilt that churned my stomach as I watched someone I grew up with not moving on the ice. Seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into hours as we watched, unable to do a thing. Then she moved and I took in much-needed air. When she slowly sat up and rested on her elbow, my breathing became harsh, but I was breathing. “Hart is getting up. We still don’t know the extent of her injuries,” the announcer said. “That was a dirty hit, and it will be noted that number fifty-three will be suspended from playing in this league indefinitely. We only play here every four years and she isn’t a rookie. She was the captain. Oh, Hart is getting up now, and she’s standing.” There was blood running down one of her cheeks. “She is stronger than she looks, that’s for sure. I know men who play in the national league who wouldn’t be getting back up after a hit like that,” the other announcer said. “That’s it little one, take it easy,” William said as we watched her skate off the ice to the bench. She took off her helmet and there was a cut under her eye from her visor. “Less than two minutes left in the gold medal game folks. We have just been informed Hart will not be returning to the ice, but she is okay. With the ice now clear and the score three to two, let’s get this game finished.” William pulled out his phone and made a call. He went into the other room and started yelling at the person at the other end. “, that was close,” Wyatt breathed out. “We still don’t know the details,” I sighed. We all gasped when Winter jumped the boards and entered the game again. The other team had pulled their goalie with thirty seconds left. “Dad, get in here,” Wyatt shouted, and his father rushed back into the room. “What is she doing?” Her father yelled at the TV. “It seems Hart wants another piece as she has entered the game with only thirty seconds left,” the announcer exclaimed. “What a pass from right-winger James to Hart. Hart is on a breakaway and she is untouchable. She winds up the shot and GOAL!” We all cheered as the siren sounded the goal before the buzzer blew, signing the end of the game. Winter’s and her team’s gloves and helmets covered the ice as they celebrated their four to two win. She looked better with a smile on her face. Her cheek now had a bandage, but she was still beautiful with her face flushed and covered in sweat. “Why would you let her back on the ice?” Will screamed into his phone. He hung up and flopped back in his chair. He looked like he had aged ten years. “She’ll be okay, Will. She’s stronger than most boys in the league.” My father, his best friend, and ex-teammate reassured him. “She has a concussion, she shouldn’t be on ice,” he growled. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the screen. She gathered with her team on the ice as they handled the gold medals. She was all smiles. If she was in pain she didn’t show it. “She’s celebrating, so that’s a good sign, Dad. The medical team wouldn’t let her back on the ice if they thought she couldn’t handle it,” Wyatt told his father. I looked at him. Does he not know his sister at all? Even Warren scoffed. “Clearly, you don’t know our sister.” The camera went to an announcer on the ice and Winter was waiting to be interviewed. The joys of being captain. Her long auburn hair was pulled back in a braid and her deep green eyes were sparkling. “Winter Hart, Captain of the Gold-winning team. How are you feeling after that nasty hit?” He asked her. I rolled my eyes, obviously, it hurt, . “I’m feeling good.” She panted. I could see the deep bruise on her cheek, even with a bandage. “You must be proud of your team for this historic win. This is your third gold medal.” “I’m so proud of them. This was a tough game, and they pulled through like I knew they would.” She smiled. It was then that her team came up behind her with the water and dumped it all over her. She was soaked and laughing as she ignored the announcer and embraced her team. “Winter Hart, everyone. One of the best female hockey players I have ever seen. Which isn’t a surprise since her father played for the Timberwolves in his prime. Now his oldest son, Warren Hart, is head coach after an injury that ended his hockey career. Her other brother, Wyatt Hart, plays center of the same team. She comes from hockey and, with three gold medals, I think it’s time for a women’s league.” “And if you didn’t know it, folks, she is officially off the market. Engaged to sports lawyer, Tristan Cole,” the head announcer said. “, I hate that guy,” Wyatt grumbled. I felt the same way. “Watch it,” his father warned. “He’s good for her.” “But could you imagine if she got with another hockey player? Their kids would be unstoppable.” The other one countered. I can agree with that one. Winter Hart My head was pounding as the medic, Troy, was stitching up my cheek. My visor dug in deep when I broke my fall with my head against the boards. But we won, so the hit was worth it. “How are you feeling, Miss Hart?” Troy asked as he placed a bandage over the now stitched skin. “My head is pounding, and I feel like I’m going to be sick,” I mumbled. I was lying back on the bed in the medical center at the arena. I had a forearm over my eyes to block out the bright lights. I’ve had a concussion before, but this felt worse. “It’s the concussion, it will get worse before getting better. I wouldn’t fly for a few days to give it some time to heal before getting on a plane.” I uncovered one eye and grumbled. “So, I have to stay here?” He nodded. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but it’s for your safety. Now, let me help you with your gear, so I can evaluate the damage done to your body.” He helped me sit up, and I swung my legs over the edge of the table. I felt dizzy and the urge to empty my stomach was strong as he helped me out of my jersey. He grumbled when he removed my chest armor. I knew I was covered in bruises. That hit wasn’t the only one I received all game. “, this sport is nasty, sometimes,” he said as he helped me lay back down. “Yeah,” I breathed out, covering my eyes again as he checked my ribs and abdomen. “How’s my star player?” The team manager walked in. I was lying back with a sports bra on, and I still had my hockey pants and shin guards on. I didn’t have time to change after the medal ceremony. “She has a concussion and a cut under her left eye. She won’t be able to fly for a few days.” Troy informed him. “Good. At least now your father will stop calling me after I give him some news.” I smiled, knowing how protective my father can be. If he had been there, I’m sure he would have started a fight. “So, no after-party?” “Sir, she isn’t allowed to drink for at least two weeks. Also, she needs to rest. I’ll be checking on her throughout the night to make sure she wakes up.” Troy told him. “But she can still do a few interviews?” I uncovered an eye in time to see Troy roll his eyes at my coach. “No. Miss Hart needs rest. Get another player to handle the interviews. She shouldn’t have stayed on the bench after that hit.” Troy was firm. “Troy, I don’t think you understand. She got two goals and two assists. This is her third gold medal in a row. She needs to be out there.” He protested. “And who is going to tell her father if something happens to her? She can’t stand the lights in here, so no, she will not be doing any interviews. Issue a statement about her condition and ask another player.” Troy retorted. “Good job, girl,” the head coach squeezed my shoulder before leaving. Troy was very serious about his job. Being employed by my father couldn’t be easy, and he was super protective of me. “Thank you,” I grumbled. I didn’t want to be in the spotlight. Playing hockey is something I love, but not so much the interviews. I love my fans and will sign anything, but I hate answering questions about myself. “I mean it, Miss Hart. You need to rest.” I hissed when he pushed down on my left side. “I think you bruised your ribs. How your body can take a beating like this, I’ll never know.” He sighed. I’ve had bruised ribs many times before and there was nothing to do but rest. I winced when my best friend and right-winger, Sydney James, entered the room. The door hit the wall, causing my head to pound. “Hey babe, how are you feeling?” Her voice was loud. “Shush, her concussion is pretty bad,” Troy warned her. “I’m sorry, babe,” she whispered. Leaning down, she kissed my forehead. “I brought your tracksuit, so you can change, and we can get you back to the hotel to rest.” She informed me. “Good. Miss Hart, I’ll be staying with you. I need to make sure you wake up every few hours.” Troy said. “And I’ll help her in the shower.” Sydney volunteered. “A bath,” I muttered. My body hurts. “Also, your dad has been blowing up your phone.” “Answer it next time. Explain I’m fine and resting.” I told her. I don’t want to deal with anyone right now. Troy helped me to sit up again and they both helped me get out of my hockey gear. When I was in my team tracksuit, I was ready to throw up. My head spun and everything hurt. “Easy there, Miss Hart. Lean on me.” Troy said as I stumbled. “There’s a car waiting out back to take us to the hotel,” Sydney said as they led me out of the medical clinic and to the back exit of the arena. I don’t remember getting in the car or driving to the hotel. Everything was a blur as I kept my eyes shut tight and tried not to focus on the movement of the car. By the time I was in my room, I couldn’t move my limbs. This was worse than any other time before. “I know you want to sleep, but you need to shower. You stink,” Sydney sniffed me. “She’s over-smelling. It’s not that bad,” Troy defended, and I chuckled before wincing. “I think you should nap first and when I wake you, you can shower,” Troy said as he sat me down on the edge of the bed. I groaned when a phone rang. I didn’t want to speak to anyone. I just wanted to close my eyes and sleep away the pounding in my head. “Babe, it’s your dad,” she announced before answering the phone. She put it on speaker. “Oh, thank god. Little one are you okay?” He exclaimed and I winced at the loudness. “Sir, please keep your voice down.” Troy scolded him. “Hi Dad,” I mumbled. I didn’t hear anything after that, with my eyes heavy. I laid my head on a pillow before everything went black. Jake Abbot Relief flooded me when I heard Winter say hi to her father. He had placed the call on speaker when she finally answered. “Sir, Winter is resting. I’m going to stay with her.” Her medic, Troy, said, and I wanted to protest. “How is she, Troy? And I want a straight answer. I don’t pay you to sugarcoat,” William demanded. “She is going to need an MRI. I’ve never seen her this affected by a concussion before. If her condition doesn’t improve by morning, I will take her to the hospital.” My heart sank. “Call me every time you wake her.” He ended the call and blew out a harsh breath. “Dad, she’ll be okay. She’s probably just exhausted.” Wyatt tried to reassure his father. Most of the team had left. It was now just her brothers, father, my father, and I. We were gathered in the kitchen. I pulled out my phone and sent Winter a text. Me: Feel better! I set my phone down on the table before Winter’s Maine coon jumped out of nowhere onto my lap, . The cat was the size of a medium dog and weighed a good thirty pounds. “,” I grunted. And Snowy the cat rubbed her head against my chin. She looked like a small snow leopard. “How’s the ?” Wyatt teased. “ off,” I retorted. “Daddy!” Warren’s four-year-old daughter ran into the kitchen. He scooped her up into his arms. “Daddy, Auntie Winnie got hurt,” she cried. Just then his very pregnant wife, Tayler, walked in. “Hey, babe,” he greeted her with a kiss. “Auntie Winnie is okay. Just a little cut.” He reassured his daughter. “Looking good, Tay, not much longer now,” Wyatt winked at her. “Three weeks and it feels like a lifetime since I’ve seen my toes.” She groaned. Warren wrapped her in his arms and it was sickly sweet. “I’m getting a baby sister,” she announced. “You don’t know that,” her mother corrected her. “I know it’s a girl. Right Grandpa,” she huffed. Warren put her down and she rushed over to William. “Whatever you say, Princess,” he picked her up and placed her in his lap. “Huh, Snowy doesn’t like boys,” she was looking at me as I mindlessly petted the massive cat in my lap. She was purring like an engine. I looked at Wyatt, who just shrugged. “Come on, Princess, I have a surprise for you,” William stood up from the table with her wrapped in his arms. She let out a squeal of excitement. “Dad, we talked about this,” Warren called out to him. “Just let the grumpy old man spoil his granddaughter.” My father chimed in. I rolled my eyes. He was pressuring me and my older brother for grandchildren. Too bad I didn’t do relationships. My phone chimed on the table and I flipped to see a message from Winter. W: Thank you, Jake. Its Syd. At least someone cares. Mr. Piece of fiancé hasn’t called or texted her. Probably didn’t even watch the game. . Anyway, I’ll keep you updated. She’s passed out like a starfish, drooling. LOL. Before replying, I slid the phone over to Wyatt, so he could read what she wrote. I hated her fiancé but he loathed the guy. I would say he’s a dog, but that would be insulting the dogs. “. Who does he think he is?” Wyatt yelled, which caused Snowy to jump off my lap. “What’s wrong?” Warren questioned as he and his wife took a seat at the table. “Mr. Lawyer hasn’t called Win to see if she’s okay.” He growled. “Something could have happened,” Taylor said, playing devil’s advocate. “Yeah, maybe he died,” I chimed in. “We couldn’t get that lucky,” Wyatt scoffed. “Wyatt, that’s enough. It’s her life,” Warren defended. “So we are just supposed to stand back and let her make the biggest mistake of her life?” He retorted, throwing his hands up. “Do you think I want to see my baby sister get hurt? I don’t, but I can’t dictate who she can see or not see. This is her choice, and we will both be there if it falls apart.” Warren told his brother. “When it falls apart. It’s coming, especially if that doesn’t care that she got hurt.” “Come on, Wyatt, I’ll drive you home, we have an early practice,” I said to defuse the situation. Both brothers were very protective of their baby sister. Even more so, after their mother left. “Go, Wyatt. I’ll keep you updated about Win’s condition.” Warren sighed. He was the calm older brother, whereas Wyatt was the hot head. I know he just wants what's best for his sister, but she is the one who has to figure that out for herself. Even if we have to see her on the arm of Mr. Lawyer. We said goodbye to everyone before heading out to my truck parked in the driveway. With Wyatt being my best friend, we had a dream that if we made it pro we would buy mansions beside each other, so we could be neighbors. And that’s just what we did after our first year. We didn’t go to college to play, we were drafted after high school over ten years ago. And his father made sure we stayed on the same team. I didn’t know if they were going to keep me after the horrible season I'd been having. We were a cup-winning team. In the last ten years, we have won it four times. I climbed into the driver's side and Wyatt did the same on the passenger side. My truck roared to life before I pulled out of the driveway. “You okay, man?” I asked him when the silence became too much. I could feel the fury rolling off of him. “I don’t know how to protect her,” he muttered. “Dude, you are the biggest man I know. Did you not think that they were someone’s sister?” If glares could kill, I would be dead in my seat. “ off, that’s not the same thing. I don't lie to them and promise them I’m not ready for. He proposed to her. He’s promising her that he can’t deliver, and it’s going to break her. And instead of doing something, I have to sit here and watch, waiting for her world to implode. It’s not right. She's too good of a person to be stuck with that ,” he ranted, and I let him. Everything he was saying was true. Winter was too good for any of us. My phone dinged in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a message from her. “It’s from Syd,” I handed the phone to him. His grin didn’t go unnoticed. “She said, Winter was up. She was able to shower and eat something but is sleeping again. Troy said the symptoms are better, but they are both staying to make sure she is okay.” He said after reading the text to me. “That’s good,” I exhaled, feeling relieved that she was getting better. Hockey can be a nasty sport and concussions are no joke. I dropped Wyatt at his house before driving up my driveway and parking in front of the house too big for one person. Buying this place was the moment I knew I had made it, but now it felt more like a prison than my dream house.