So yeah, it made perfect sense. Just let Wyatt stay here.

  The thought that had me pumping the brakes on that was, oddly enough, how much I wanted him to stay here.

  I didn’t want him to leave, and I was spooked by how many selfish reasons I had for that. Because it went beyond wanting them to be safe and comfortable. I wanted that, of course, but I also liked Wyatt. I liked Lily. I liked seeing them happy. I liked having someone else here besides my cats.

  So was I finding reasons to shoot down all my alternative solutions because they really were bad solutions? Or because I selfishly wanted Wyatt to stay here?

  Because, I was starting to realize, I would’ve wanted him to stay even if he had a stable income and a place to live?

  “Oh my God,” I muttered. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

  Well, I could figure that out. If things went well tomorrow, I’d have plenty of time to sort out where my concern for Wyatt ended and my growing affection for him began.

  Because over my dead body were he and Lily getting booted out of this house.

  Chapter 24

  Wyatt

  I didn’t sleep for shit, and I didn’t expect to. I was too worried about what was coming next, and I also didn’t want to close my eyes and miss these last few precious hours of warmth and comfort.

  I didn’t want to overstay my welcome, though. It was time. Knowing Anthony, we’d at least eat breakfast, but after that, it was up to him when I grabbed my gear and left. Would he at least drop me off somewhere? Because it was a long walk across the 520 bridge to Seattle, and the loving folks of the Eastside weren’t exactly accommodating to people like me taking up space in their parks and woodlands.

  Well, if he did give me a lift, that would be awesome. If not, I’d figure things out. I always did.

  I left my gear in the bedroom for now, packed up and ready to go, and headed into the kitchen with Lily.

  To my surprise, Anthony looked like shit. Even worse than he had the morning after Thanksgiving. He had dark circles under his eyes, and the heavy scruff on his jaw made his face look even paler.

  I was about to ask if he was all right, but he spoke first.

  “Listen, I was thinking…” He handed me a cup of coffee and avoided my gaze. “You, uh…” He chewed his lip, drumming his nails on the counter. Then he met my eyes and declared, “You don’t have to go.”

  I froze. “What?”

  “I know I said you could stay until Lily finished her meds.” He met my gaze. “But… I mean, I don’t feel right, sending you two back out there. At all.”

  My heart flipped. I felt guilty for how hopeful I was that he meant it. I was afraid to say a word because he might rescind the offer. If I came on too eager, or I tried to insist I couldn’t stay even though I desperately wanted to, or I just said the wrong stupid thing, he’d say, “You know what? Forget it,” and I’d be out on my ass after all.

  So I said nothing. I wasn’t sure I could’ve spoken anyway. I just stared at him.

  Anthony shifted his weight. “It isn’t right, you living out there like that. Especially not in the winter.”

  My throat tightened around my breath, and the whole night’s worth of fatigue came crashing in, making me waver on my feet. “Are you… Are you serious?”

  “Yes,” he said without hesitation. “I haven’t felt right since we talked last night, and I couldn’t fucking sleep because I just…” He raked a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “I can’t think of any rational reason why you two are better off out there than in here.”

  My mouth had gone dry, but I managed to croak, “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I don’t care. I don’t think I could live with myself I said you guys couldn’t stay here.”

  “But I don’t…” I swallowed hard, torn between desperately wanting to accept his offer and also not wanting to abuse his generosity. “The offer is amazing, don’t get me wrong. I just don’t want…” I shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t want you to be stuck with me. Or feel like you have to let me stay indefinitely.”

  “I know,” he whispered. “And I’m not stuck. If we figure out we can’t live together, I can help you make other arrangements. But I’ll never be able to sleep at night or look at myself in the mirror if I know you’re out there when I could’ve done something.”

  The lump in my throat was too thick to swallow past.

  “And if it helps,” he went on, “it’s not just because of your situation. If it was, I’d still be offering to let you stay because I can’t…” Shaking his head, he looked right in my eyes. “The point is I want you and Lily to stay.”

  I blinked. “Really?”

  “Yeah. It’s been nice having someone else here. This place is fucking huge. I… like having the two of you here.” He chewed his lip. “Maybe that’s pathetic. I don’t know. But you and Lily can stay as long as you need to.”

  I closed my eyes and exhaled, reveling in the weight of the world slipping off my shoulders. “Thank you.” I met his gaze again. “You really, really don’t have to. But if you’re serious…”

  He nodded. “Completely serious.”

  “I’d be stupid not to take you up on it.” I paused. “And… I like it here, too. Not just because it means I’m off the streets. Living with you and the cats has been nice.”

  Anthony’s smile was beautiful. “I think they’ve enjoyed having you here, too. Even if Bear still can’t quite figure out Lily.”

  I chuckled, dizzy with this profound relief. “Eh, they’ve been playing a lot, so I think he’s figuring her out.”

  “Oh, really?” He laughed, lighting up the whole world. “How have I missed that?”

  “You haven’t noticed them getting the zoomies together? It shakes the whole house.”

  “Eh. With these two running around”—he gestured at his cats—“you kinda stop noticing when the house shakes. Hell, we had a minor earthquake last year and I thought it was just these idiots wrestling.”

  I snorted. “Okay, I can see that.” We both chuckled, but it slowly faded, and as the silence held, reality settled in. I swallowed hard and held Anthony’s gaze. “Are you really sure about this?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “But… I mean, for how long?” I drummed my fingers on the counter. “I know you said you like having someone here, but I also don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

  “You’re not,” he said quietly. “And as for how long, I mean…” He seemed to think about it, then shrugged. “I just can’t see kicking you out onto the streets again. So… I guess as long as it takes to get you set up with something better?”

  I blinked. “Set me up with—that could take ages.” My shoulders dropped. “I’m not gonna lie, man—the job market is pretty bleak, and housing…” I whistled.

  Anthony nodded. “I know. I’ve heard it’s a shitshow out there. I…” He hesitated, shifting his weight. “Listen, it’s a complex situation. Especially finding a long-term solution. And between the hockey season and this bullshit with Simon?” He laughed humorlessly and shook his head. “I don’t have the brain cells to figure it out.” His laughter faded. “So why don’t we put a pin in the whole thing until the hockey season is over?”

  “Until—” I almost choked. “That’s months away, isn’t it?”

  “April. May.” He wobbled his hand. “Maybe June. Depends on how far we go into the playoffs.”

  “Okay, but that means you want me to just… stick around until then?”

  His forehead creased. “I’m not going to force you to. You can leave any time you want. But the invitation is open.”

  It took some serious work to swallow. “I… don’t even know what to say.”

  He offered up a cautious smile. “Just say you’ll keep making those eggs in the morning.”

  I laughed, which felt amazing and also hid how close I was to tears. “I’ll make those any time you want.”

  That beautiful smile made me dizzy. “It’s a deal, then.”

  “Thank you. I… Just… Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He glanced at the microwave and grimaced. “Crap, it’s later than I thought. I need to eat something and then get to the rink.” Facing me again, he raised his eyebrows. “Do you want to watch a game tonight? I think Boston’s playing in Los Angeles, and that’s always an entertaining match.”

  Another laugh almost came tumbling out. Five minutes ago, I’d firmly made peace with sleeping outside without my dog tonight. Did I want to hang out on the couch with Lily, Anthony, and the cats, watching hockey after eating an actual meal? He didn’t even need to ask.

  “That sounds great.” I rewound what he’d said, and my smile fell. “Is this, um…” I struggled to hold eye contact. “Is me staying here going to cause problems between you and…?” I tipped my head toward the garage.

  Anthony’s expression faltered, and my heart clenched with panic. Shit, had I just talked him out of this? Because I sure as hell wouldn’t blame him if—

  “Fuck him.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “Fuck him.” Anthony shook his head emphatically. “He can have all the opinions about it he wants. This is between you and me.”

  “Are… Are you sure?”

  That smile… dear God. Did he have any idea how beautiful he was?

  “I’m sure.” He gestured at the fridge. “Eggs?”

  Eggs and bacon never tasted as good as they did that morning. Not even the time my mom cooked them after I’d come back from boot camp. Somehow I managed not to turn into a blubbering mess of gratitude and relief as we’d eaten, and I held my damn self together until after Anthony had left with Simon.

  The only thing that kept me from losing it in the kitchen even then was the security cameras he had perched throughout the house. The thought of him reviewing them and seeing me falling apart… Yeah, no. I’d pass.

  So I went back into the guest room that, by some unbelievable miracle, would still be my bedroom for…

  For the next few months.

  Holy shit.

  As soon as the door was closed behind me, I leaned against it and let all my emotions came crashing in. My knees shook. My eyes stung. Lily was right beside me, pressing against my leg, and just feeling her weight and hearing her soft snuffling as she sniffed my hand (probably searching for bacon residue) turned me into a complete mess.

  We weren’t going back out on the street.

  We weren’t going to have to find food or shelter tonight or any other night.

  Lily wasn’t going to the Doberman rescue.

  There was no telling what life would look like after the hockey season ended and Anthony helped me find a long-term solution, but we weren’t going back.

  I slid down the door as I tried to just find my breath and absorb my new reality. Our new reality.

  Lily whined softly and licked my hand. I exhaled and wrapped my arms around her. As she leaned against me, I buried my face in her neck and didn’t try to hold back the tears. I hated crying, but this? This was relief. This was the end of an exhausting, miserable battle. This was… fuck, I couldn’t even put names on all the emotions crashing through me, but my God, it was amazing.

  “We don’t have to go back out there, baby.” I petted Lily’s side. She licked me again, and I laughed through my tears. “You get to play with the kitties for a while longer.”

  Then I held her tighter to me and fucking sobbed. Just the thought of her and Bear getting the zoomies together or her and Moose sprawled out on the living room floor wrecked me. This poor dog had huddled against me for months as I’d tried to protect her from the elements. Guilt had torn me apart because she’d deserved so much better than that.

  Now…

  Somehow…

  She had so much better.

  And by some miracle, so did I.

  Chapter 25

  Anthony

  “Well done, boys!” Coach beamed at us from the middle of the locker room. “Let’s keep that momentum rolling, all right?”

  We all cheered. Hell yeah, we needed to keep this rolling. We’d absolutely stomped Miami tonight, snapping their nine-game win streak with an 8-2 blowout and extending our win streak to three. I’d even finally scored my first goal of the season.

  I fucking loved nights like this. Nights when the whole team just gelled perfectly, and when I was playing the kind of hockey I knew I could. These nights were addictive, and I hoped the season was full of them.

  D’Angelo had the MVP helmet from our last win, and he held it up. “Great game, guys. Beaus, you stood on your head. Third and fourth lines, you were killing it out there. But I think we all know where this is going.” He met my gaze across the room and gestured at me with the helmet. “Blueliner with two assists and a goal tonight. Good work, Aussie.”

  I grinned as I got up. He handed me the helmet, gave me a quick hug and back slap, and said over the cheers of our teammates, “You killed it out there, man. Keep it up.”

  I nodded sharply. “I will.” He let me go, and I put on the helmet. Ugh, two months into the season, and this thing already stank to high heaven. “Good game, everyone. Let’s see if we can make it four in a row!” That prompted more cheering, and we all continued stripping off jerseys and gear.

  I was almost giddy from the night we’d had. The night I’d had. The first dozen or so games of the season, I’d been struggling hard, but I was finally finding my stride. I’d drawn a number of penalties but hadn’t taken any in like five games. I’d notched six points over the last three games, including three tonight, which had earned me second star. Hell, I’d probably been in the running for first star, but Beaus deserved it after forty-seven saves against a team full of snipers.

  I was still smiling like a fool when they let in the reporters. Honestly, I didn’t mind talking to them most of the time. They sometimes expected me to have some long, profound answer when all I wanted to say was, “We sucked tonight,” but they weren’t bad. Our team reporter had a good rapport with all of us, and she managed to have interesting questions that required thoughtful answers. I appreciated that.

  But as I was peeling off my chest protector, I caught sight of a reporter who made my teeth grind. Cole Tandy. Ugh. Did he have to be in town tonight? Apparently so.

  Tandy lived to stir shit up. If he couldn’t find drama, he’d create it with clickbait headlines. There was the time he titled an article something about Chicago’s star goalie rushing to the hospital and missing a game at the last minute, making it sound like he’d had a medical emergency. Turned out the goalie’s wife had gone into labor. Another time, Tandy had ominously reported that negotiations were “at a standstill” between the Bobcats and D’Angelo, and half of Seattle’s fanbase had panicked, thinking we were about to lose our captain. No, the parties involved had just agreed to pause negotiations until the off season so D’Angelo could focus on playing. Two weeks after the playoffs ended, he’d signed a six-year extension that would likely carry him through to retirement.

  So I never liked seeing Tandy lurking around the locker room. How he still had press credentials was a mystery to me, though I’d heard rumors that he’d threatened to write an exposé about the League shutting out journalists. Which meant the clubs all had to play nice with him, and so did we, because he wouldn’t hesitate to write a piece about a player getting spicy with him.

  I fucking hated that asshole. And I really hated how he kept glancing toward my stall as I answered questions for our team reporter.

  Oh God. Was I on his radar tonight? Fuuuck. I’d rather get yelled at by Coach.

  Sure enough, as the team reporter moved on to interview Simon, Tandy sidled up to my locker stall, phone up and recording. “Great game, Aussie!” he said with that phony-ass smile that meant he was fishing for something.

  I gave him an equally fake smile. “It was a team effort.” A vague, canned answer, but this was the guy who’d take “thanks, I was happy with how I played tonight!” or “I played better than I have the last few games, so I feel pretty good about it” and turn it into a player claiming credit for the entire team’s victory. Slimy motherfucker.

  “A fan posted some photos of you out and about with your cats,” he said. “How did you get the two of them to walk on leashes?”

  I hesitated. That was all he wanted to ask me about? My cats? Guard still up, I met him—and his phone—with my best media smile. “Oh, they’re easy. Put them in harnesses as kittens. Get them used to the leash.” I shrugged as I dropped onto the bench to take off my skates. “It’s really not hard, and taking them out lets them burn off some energy so they don’t destroy my house.”

  He laughed. “They do seem, uh, large?”

  I snorted. “They’re both twenty-plus pounds. Trust me, when they get the zoomies, the whole neighborhood feels it.”

  “We might have to check with the UW seismology center and see if they’ve picked up any vibrations from that direction.”

  I managed a chuckle, though I was still suspicious. I highly doubted Tandy had suddenly decided to dive into human interest pieces about our personal lives. Not unless there was some really juicy “human interest” for him to report, and my cats walking on leashes couldn’t possibly make that cut.

  Still filming me with one phone, he took out a second and started thumbing through something on the screen. I glanced up at him, and the twist of his lips made my stomach drop.

  Then… the piece connected.

  The last time I’d been out walking the cats…

  The last time we’d encountered fans who recognized me…

  Oh…

  Shit.

  But there was no escape, and with Simon standing right there beside me, Tandy showed me his other phone and loudly asked, “What can you tell us about your new cat-walking buddy?”