Chapte Twenty
ALEKSI
I wake before Kendall.
That’s not unusual—years of early morning practices have trained my body
to stir before the sun finishes its slow climb over the city. What is unusual is
the way my chest feels when I roll over and see her: hair spread across the
pillow like spun gold, one hand tucked under her cheek, the other resting
protectively on the curve of her belly.
The start of our family growing inside of her.
The light slants through the window, catching dust motes in the air like tiny
stars, and I have to remind myself to breathe. I built something that doesn’t
disappear after the third period. Something that won’t vanish when the crowd
leaves.
I ease out of bed slowly, careful not to wake her, and pad downstairs
barefoot.
I laugh to myself when I make it to the kitchen, remembering yesterday
how Kendall looked in the fridge and it was stocked.
I ask Vivi to make this place feel so much like home that Kendall would
say yes to the house. I should have expected that an “ultimate budget” would
also get me toothpaste, milk, pots and pans, and everything I need to make
breakfast this morning. She more than outdid herself, and it paid off.
I owe Vivi something big for this. I can only imagine the kind of work she
did to make this happen, and I won’t even bother to look at my credit card bill
when it comes in. Whatever it cost, it was worth it to have Kendall happily
asleep upstairs and not fighting me on the house.
I fire up the stove, start the bacon and eggs, and then mix up some pancake
batter, adding some blueberries that Vivi stocked in the fridge. I pour the first
pancake onto the pan.
It burns a little.
Okay, a lot.
I flip it anyway, scraping the edges, and tell myself it’s the stove’s fault.
Brand new appliances. Needs calibration. Definitely not user error.
“Is something burning?”
I turn to see Kendall standing in the doorway, wearing my Hawkeyes shirt
from last night. It hangs to mid-thigh, sleeves past her elbows, and the sight
of her like that—barefoot, messy-haired, belly gently swelling under soft gray
fabric—nearly knocks me flat.
“Good morning,” I manage, rough morning voice still intact.
She smiles, padding over to the stove. “Are you… burning pancakes?”
“It’s caramelization,” I say, dead serious. “Very popular in Finland.
Basically a delicacy.”
She sees right through it with a smirk. “Sounds… foreign. But I’ll try
anything once.” She shuffles barefoot to the large pantry that’s probably the
size for Kendall’s current studio apartment. “I hope Vivi stocked some coffee
in here.” Her voice muffled.
My ears perk at how Kendall just said VIvi’s name. “What do you mean by
Vivi stocking coffee?” I ask.
Then she appears out of the pantry with a bag of coffee grounds in her
hand. “The cat is out of the bag. She texted me this morning and asked how I
liked the house. How could she have known about the house unless someone
told her? And no offense but everything in this house is brand new and not
your taste. This was clearly a Vivi Newport special.”
Her last remark has me thinking. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked Vivi to
decorate. Maybe I should have let Kendall do it. I just thought if the house
was bare and she could visualize it, or the nursery wasn’t perfectly set up,
she’d have an easier out on the house.
“Vivi Newport special? As in, you don’t like the decor?” I ask, poking at
the pancake corner to see if the other side is done.
“No… God no, I love the house.” she shakes her head, giving me relief
right away. “Vivi knows exactly what I like and it’s perfect. I couldn’t have
done a better job. But the monogrammed robes and signature shampoo and
conditioner that she had to order from New York that’s currently sitting in the
shower of the primary bathroom was a dead giveaway before she even texted
me.”
I laugh. “I sort of told her to do whatever she had to in order to make sure
you loved it and said yes.”
Kendall comes closer, her hands sliding over my hips, makes my cock
twitch and now I’m thinking of all the other activities we could do in this
kitchen that would taste better than breakfast.
“I love the house. But you didn’t have to spend this much. I would have
said yes to something much smaller. I don’t want you to think I need any of
this to be happy.”
“I know you don’t, but I can easily afford it. I haven’t spent a lot in all the
years I’ve played professionally, and my father left behind a life insurance
policy for my mom, my sister and I, to make sure that we were set if anything
happened to him. I never spent my third over the last fifteen years and it’s
grown in interest.”
“Your father protected you even in death.” she says as if more of who my
father was as a man and a provider is revealed.
I nod. “It’s grown big enough to have paid the downpayment on the house,
and there is still enough left over that the monthly interest will pay the
monthly mortgage, utilities… everything. I put all of it in the trust as well so
it will also cover this house and it will grow with Niko. No matter what
happens to me. You’ll always have this place.” I can see her shoulders ease
with the reassurance that I’m financially stable enough to do this for our son.
I know her experience with Tarron left her in a hard spot financially. I want
her to know that something like that will never happen with me. I’ll always
make sure she’s taken care of… like my father did.
“I can’t believe you already did all of this… thought this far ahead.” She
says, glancing around the kitchen as if to understand that this place is her safe
place to raise our son, no matter what.
“You’re always the first thing on my mind, Kendall.”
She pushes up to her tip toes and kisses me. It is soft and tender and then
she pulls back. I want to increase it, to christen every surface and room in this
house with her, but I know she’s starving, growing that baby and my job this
morning isn’t over.
“I know that now.”
“Besides, I don’t think my father could have dreamed up a better way for
me to use his life insurance policy than to use it to take care of his grandson
and you. It’s the best way I can honor his legacy.” I tell her.
I turn to the pancakes, just now realizing that I forgot about them. I flip
them quickly and this batch is going to turn out perfect. I pull out my phone
and snap a photo. “I have to send this picture to Saara and rub it in her face
that I’m actually a great cook. She’s a liar.”
Kendall laughs. It’s real, completely her and completely unguarded. I wish
I could bottle that sound and keep it forever.
I slide the pancake onto a plate, pour another, and this time I watch it
closer. Kendall leans against the counter beside me, one hand lying loosely on
the top of her belly as if it’s a permanent armrest, the other reaching for the
spatula.
“Let me help before you burn the house down on our first morning here.”
“Our first morning,” I repeat, letting the words settle. “I like that.”
She glances up at me, eyes soft. “Me too.”
We work in comfortable silence—me pouring, her flipping, both of us
stealing glances when we think the other isn’t looking. By the time we sit
down at the empty kitchen island with a plate of pancakes between us, the
morning feels like something out of a dream…but this is real.
“These are actually good,” she says, surprised.
“You sound shocked.”
“I am shocked. You almost burned the first three. I can’t blame Saara for
her original assumptions. I was getting concerned there for a minute.”
“Learning curve,” I say, forking a bite. “Next time I’ll be a pro. Besides,
you were distracting me in that shirt.”
“Would it have been better if I came down here in no shirt?”
“Yes,” I say immediately, baring letting her finish the last word.
She grins. “Maybe next time,” she echoes, and the way she says it—like
there will be a thousand next times—makes something in my chest expand.
I never thought I’d feel home here like I do in Finland. But I do now.
Kendall is the only home I need.
I haven’t asked if I can move in yet. For now, I think it’s better that we
move slow. She took the buying of the house well considering she’s used to
plans, schedules and control. I don’t want to overload her or this could all
come tumbling down before I know it.
Instead, I’ll settle for sleepovers whenever she allows. Hoping by the time
the baby gets here, she’ll want me around more permanently, but I’m not in a
rush. Sitting in this kitchen, just the three of us with pancakes, is fucking
heaven on earth.
It’s enough.
It’s more than enough.
My phone dings on the kitchen table, and I expect it to be my sister though
it should be about 7pm there and my nephew probably has a game tonight.
Vivi: You owe me for the nursery install. I take spa treatments as
currency.
Isla: Tell her we’re coming over for an unpacking party once the
boxes arrive.
Trey: Welcome to the block. Also, you’re in charge of snow
shoveling this winter.
Jokes on him… Seattle doesn’t get much snow on the ground floor in the
winter.
Hunter: Does this mean we get a new spot for game nights? Because
Trey’s couch is getting sad.
Trey: My couch is fine.
Peyton: Your couch is a relic.
I laugh, tilting the screen toward Kendall. “They’re already planning to
invade.”
She leans over, reading the messages, and her cheeks flush pink.
“They’re… really excited.”
“They love you,” I say simply. “They’ve already made room for you.”
Her eyes glisten, and she looks away quickly, swiping at her cheek. “I’m
not crying. It’s hormones.”
“Hormones,” I agree, grinning. “Totally.”
She smacks my arm lightly, but she’s smiling.
I type back quickly.
Me: She loved it. Thank you.
Vivi: I KNEW IT. Okay, unpacking party this weekend. I’m bringing
champagne. Non-alcoholic for the preggo contingent.
Isla: I’ll bring food. Cammy’s in charge of music.
Me: You guys don’t have to do all this.
Vivi: TOO LATE. Already planned.
Trey: Also, heads up everyone, the nursery could cause “baby crazy”
symptoms. Enter at your own risk. Vivi cried.
Vivi: I DID NOT.
Trey: You absolutely did.
Me: She’s not the only one.
Kendall glances at me, brow raised. “You cried?”
“A little,” I admit, shrugging. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
I lean over and kiss her temple, breathing in the scent of her. “It’s all
coming together. See? I told you it would. There’s nothing to worry about.”
She swallows hard, nodding. “I’m starting to believe that.”
Good. Because I’m not letting the medical board or the league or anyone
else take this away from her.
I snap a photo before I can overthink it.
Kendall barefoot at the kitchen island, fork in hand, belly gently rounded,
the sunlight from the backyard shining through. She’s mid-laugh at something
I just said, eyes crinkled, completely unaware I’m capturing the moment.
It’s perfect.
I send it to my mom with a simple caption: First morning in the new house.
The reply is instant.
Mom: Oh, Aleksi. She’s glowing. You’re both glowing. Send me the
address. I’m mailing another care package immediately.
I grin, typing back the address, and her next message comes through with a
string of heart emojis and a promise to include “something special for the
baby’s room.”
Kendall notices me smiling at my phone. “What?”
“My mom,” I say, turning the screen toward her. “She’s already planning
the next care package.”
Kendall’s eyes soften as she reads the messages. “Your mom is the sweetest
person I’ve never known. I hope I can meet her soon.”
“She’s going to love you in person,” I say. “Fair warning—she’ll probably
cry. And feed you. A lot. She’s already talking about some kind of
breastfeeding cookie that helps your production. Something about oatmeal
stimulation…” I trail off because it’s all lost on me.
“I can handle that.” she smiles.
“Good,” I say, pocketing my phone. “Because she’s already planning a trip
once the baby’s here.”
I watch her face shift… surprise, but in a good way. Not like surprising her
with a house she didn’t ask for. “She is?”
“Of course she is,” I say gently. “You’re family now.”
The words hang between us. They might be heavy to say outloud but that
doesn’t make them any less true.
She blinks fast, looking down at her plate. “I’m not used to that.”
“I know,” I say, reaching across to lace my fingers with hers. “But you will
be.”
Later, after we’ve finished breakfast and Kendall’s curled up on the couch
with her phone, scrolling through furniture ideas with Vivi while on speaker
phone, I grab my sneakers from by the door.
“I’ve got practice in an hour,” I say, lacing up. “But before I go—”
I slide a key across the counter toward her.
She looks at it, then at me. “What’s this?”
“Your key,” I say. “I’ll take the realtor lock off later. I left the Pending sign
up so you didn’t feel any pressure to say yes to the house.”
Her eyes go wide. “That’s why it was still up. You did that for me?”
“Of course I did.”
She crosses around the island, stopping in front of me, and for a second she
just looks at me—like she’s trying to memorize something.
Then she kisses me. Soft and full of gratitude.
“Thank you,” she whispers against my lips. “For everything.”
I cup her cheek, thumb brushing over her skin. “Don’t thank me. Just move
in before the third trimester. Mom says that’s nesting season. She’s already
planning to ship curtains.”
Kendall laughs, pulling back slightly. “Of course she is.”
“Use the black card for whatever you want,” I say. “Furniture, groceries,
curtains, whatever. Make this place yours.”
She hesitates. “Aleksi, I can’t just—”
“Yes, you can,” I say firmly. “You and the baby deserve it.”
She swallows, nodding slowly. “Okay.”
I kiss her forehead, then drop to my knees and press a soft kiss to her belly.
“Be good for your mom, little guy. I’ll be back later.”
When I stand, her eyes are bright, and I have to force myself to step back
before I stay here all day.
Every bruise, every heart surgery, every rejection, every lonely hotel room
finally led here. And I wouldn’t change a single thing.
I’m whistling when I pull into the practice facility parking lot. The
morning’s still keeping me light on my feet. The pancakes, Kendall’s laugh,
my sister finally texting back that I had beginner’s luck on the pancakes, the
way Kendall looked in my shirt when I left… the taste of her kiss still on my
lips. Life feels impossibly good.
Then I see Penelope as I walk through the doors of the stadium.
“Heard about the house,” she says, smiling. “Congratulations. Kendall
deserves to be taken care of.”
I grin, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “Yeah. It feels good to have a
place for her. For the baby.”
Her smile flickers. “Just… be careful, Aleksi.”
My grin fades. “You think the NHL would really sanction the team?”
She hesitates, and lets out a sigh. “Kendall and I have been discussing it
some, and I’ve talked to some other GM’s. It’s possible. I don’t know if it
would come down to that. We’ve never been in this position before. I asked
my father, who was a GM longer than me, what he thinks.”
My chest tightens. “What did he say?”
“He’s looking into it,” she says carefully. “I haven’t talked to Everett
Kauffman about anything. I’m hoping there’s never anything to tell.”
Everett Kauffman, the new billionaire owner of the team.
I swallow hard. “We thought we weren’t going to make it out of that motel
room. We hadn’t exactly considered what the next day would bring, seeing as
how we weren’t sure we’d make it out alive.”
Her expression softens. “I know. And I’ll do everything I can to help. I’m
just not sure what I’ll be able to do if this goes sideways and the medical
board finds out.”
She pats my arm, gentle but serious. “You’re a good man. Kendall deserves
this. Just do whatever you can to make sure I don’t have to defend you and
this team to the league.”
As she walks away, the high from this morning dims. The league wouldn’t
tear apart a family… would they?
I lace up in the locker room, the familiar ritual grounding me. Skates tight.
Jersey on. Helmet under my arm.
When I step onto the ice, everything else falls away.
We have our first home game of the pre-season tomorrow night and the
only thing I can control right now is how I play.
The cold bites at my lungs in the best way. My blades sing across the
surface, smooth and sure, and for the next hour, I let muscle memory drown
out the worry.
I nail slapshot after slapshot, the puck cracking off the crossbar. Coach
Haynes nods approvingly when I skate past, and I feel it—this is my year.
The guys are sharp today, everyone is pushing hard as pre-season draws
closer. The energy is electric, the kind that makes you believe anything’s
possible.
By the time Coach’s whistle blows, I’m sweating, grinning, heart
hammering with optimism.
This is where I belong. On this ice. With this team. Building this life.
And in a few months, Kendall will be on maternity leave and she and Niko
will be in my seats watching me.
Nothing else matters.
