Push (Colorado Storm Hockey #3)

Chapter 22

22

HUX

I thought I was tough. I thought I was cool under pressure. After all, I’ve faced the toughest enforcers in hockey. I’ve endured brutal press conferences after embarrassing losses. And I’ve survived the tension of multiple Game 7 overtimes. But nothing—absolutely nothing—could have prepared me for this.

Sitting here in Teta Lena’s living room, surrounded by what feels like a small army of Ada’s relatives, each one louder than anyone I’ve ever met, it is clear I am out of my element. Ada’s hand has been tightly clasped to mine. And I think she’s doing it for my sake. She’s handling them well on our behalf.

Family hasn’t ever been my thing. Even with Debbie, her small family wasn’t around too much, only in the big moments like our wedding.

This is a whole new level of involvement. It was one thing when they just thought I was her wedding date. This news has changed everything. They’re feeling lots of things, from anger to amusement, and I’m not sure what I’ll get next from them.

“So, Hux,” Ada’s uncle Joe leans forward, his eyes narrowing, “ you thought it was a good idea to marry our Ada in Vegas, without any of us there?”

I swallow hard, fighting the urge to pull my collar away from my neck. “Well?—”

“We were swept up in the moment, okay? It was romantic!” Ada interrupts, her voice carrying over her relatives’ chatter. She’s clearly experienced in this.

“Romantic?” Mark snorts from his perch on the arm of the couch. “More like tequila-fueled, I bet. How many shots did it take before you thought marrying a hockey player was a good idea, sis?”

“Mark!” Ada’s stepmom scolds through the speakerphone, but I can hear a hint of amusement in her voice.

I can’t help but chuckle, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. “For the record, it was whiskey and beer, not tequila. At least on my end.”

“And way too much Schnapp’s on mine,” Ada joins in.

This earns a round of laughter from the family, and I catch Ada rolling her eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“And what about your career?” Ada’s father’s voice crackles through the phone. “Are you even gonna be around? What kind of husband will you be?”

I guess now is the time to let her family in on my secret. “Well, sir, I’ve been considering retirement after this season.”

The room goes silent, all eyes on me. I notice Kyla, still glowing from her honeymoon tan, finally looks up from her phone, her fingers poised to type.

“But that’s not public knowledge yet,” I add quickly, meeting each family member’s gaze. “I’d appreciate it if we could keep that information within this room.”

Kyla’s fingers twitch, and I can practically see the gears turning in her head as she weighs the value of this scoop against family loyalty .

“Kyla,” Ada says, her tone warning. “Don’t even think about it.”

Kyla sighs dramatically, locking her phone and setting it aside. “Fine, fine. My lips are sealed.”

“So, you’re retiring?” Teta Lena leans forward, her eyes twinkling. “Does this mean I can expect great-grandchildren soon?”

Ada stiffens beside me, and I rush to intervene. “We’re focusing on getting to know each other better right now. Children are a conversation for the future.”

But I know how that conversation will end now. Neither of us wants to have children.

“I vote no,” Mark chimes in. “Can you imagine mini-Adas running around? The world isn’t ready for that level of stubbornness.”

“Hey!” Ada protests, but she’s laughing.

The questions keep coming, rapid-fire and relentless.

“What religion are you?” Uncle Joe blurts out.

“I’m not religious,” I answer honestly. The looks exchanged between the older folks in the room don’t go unnoticed.

Aunt Esther leans forward, her eyes narrowing. “You’ve got dark features. What’s your background?”

I feel Ada tense beside me, her eyes flaring at the inappropriate question. “Uh, I’m not really sure. I think I might be Italian.”

“Are you using Ada to get citizenship?” One of her cousins calls out from the back of the room.

“No, I became a US citizen years ago,” I reply, bewildered.

Ada barks at whoever asked that, then turns to me and whispers, “This isn’t some sort of green card marriage, is it?”

I can’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all and lift an eyebrow at her. She shakes it off and turns back to her family.

“You’re a Democrat, right?” another one of her uncles asks, eyeing me suspiciously .

I notice a framed photo of JFK on the wall, next to a photo of the current Pope, and I don’t miss the scrutiny in their eyes. Even Ada’s waiting for my answer with bated breath. “I’m not terribly political, but that’s usually how I vote,” I answer carefully.

They all breathe a notable sigh of relief.

“Where will you live?” Her dad chimes in. He seems to have the most practical questions.

Before I can answer, I realize I don’t actually know where we’ll live. Ada and I exchange a panicked glance, but we’re saved by Uncle Joe. “You’re gonna get remarried in the church, right?”

“Uh,” I murmur, lost for a response. The irony isn’t lost on me that Debbie’s annulment would now allow us to do something like that.

“Just calm down,” Ada shouts at her family, squeezing my hand reassuringly.

Finally, Teta Lena turns to Ada. “Are you happy, habibti?”

“Yes, Teta, of course,” Ada replies, but I notice her grandmother’s look of uncertainty.

I look over at Ada and wonder, is she happy? Have I pressured her into doing something she doesn’t want to do? I told her a lot about how I’m feeling, about how I want her, and how I want to keep at this. But she said little in return. Did I talk over her? I feel like I might have talked over her while trying to persuade her. Have I made a terrible mistake? Perhaps the only reason she’s doing this is to make Teta Lena happy.

“Where are your rings?” her cousin Kyla asks.

The room falls silent as we both look down at our hands. This seems to delight her cousin and, for the first time tonight, I genuinely feel like we’ve been busted. I have no idea how to answer her question, so I wait for Ada to speak up, but she doesn’t .

I know exactly where my ring is at home. I wonder if she tossed hers out.

“You aren’t even wearing rings? What kind of commitment is this?” Her aunt asks.

I can feel the weight of the family’s expectations pressing down on us, and I squeeze Ada’s hand tighter in reassurance. “We’ll work on the rings,” I explain, trying to diffuse the tension.

Uncle Joe snorts at this, but her grandmother’s voice cuts through the murmurs of disapproval. “Love is not measured by rings. Let them find their own way.”

As we pull up to Ada’s apartment, the tension from the family interrogation slowly fades away. I kill the engine and turn to her, a wry smile on my face. “Well, that was...”

“Intense?” Ada finishes, letting out a nervous laugh. “I’m so sorry about that. They can be a bit overwhelming.”

I shake my head, reaching out to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. “Don’t apologize. They care about you. I get it.”

We make our way up the stairs to her door, our hands naturally finding each other. As we reach the entrance, Ada turns to face me, her eyes searching mine. “So, what did you really think?”

I take a deep breath, considering my words carefully. “Honestly? It was a lot. But I meant what I said. I’m in this, Ada.”

She smiles. “Me too.”

“Are you?” I can’t help but ask. “Are you sure you want to do this with me? That you want to be with me? I know I put a lot of pressure on you. I want to make sure you’re happy with this.”

She smiles again, this time with her eyes. “I’m happy, Nik. And yes, I want to do this with you. I wouldn’t go in front of my family like that if I didn’t. I promise. ”

Relief floods through me. There’s a moment of comfortable silence before I remember a conversation I need to have with her. “Listen, Ada, about the upcoming series with Dallas.”

“Yeah?”

“We’ll be traveling there first since we don’t have home ice advantage. And it’s going to be intense. I might not be great at communicating during this series.” There’s a slight fall in her expression. “It’s an all-consuming thing. But I don’t want you to think I’m pulling away, okay? It’s just…”

“It’s your job,” she finishes for me. “I get it.”

I feel a little relieved, but I’ve heard that before. Debbie used to say the same thing when we first got together. “Right. But I want you to know I’m committed to this. To us. Even when I’m not great at showing it.”

Ada’s eyes soften, and she steps closer to me. “Okay. I understand, Nik. Really, I do.”

She’s so beautiful, especially when she’s looking at me like this, especially when she’s so close. “Thank you for understanding,” I murmur.

Ada’s gaze flickers to my lips, then back to my eyes. “Do you want to come in?”

I’m tempted. Big time. The thought of being with her tonight, holding her, nothing sounds better. But I know I need to focus and get some rest for the upcoming series. It’s a sacrifice I’ll have to make.

“I should probably head home,” I say reluctantly. “I’ve got early practice tomorrow and then we travel.”

“Okay,” she says, with a hint of disappointment in her eyes.

I can’t leave her just yet, though. I cup her face in my hands, lean in, and capture her lips with mine. The kiss starts soft but quickly deepens. Ada grips my shirt as she presses her body closer to mine. I run my tongue along her bottom lip, and she opens for me with a soft moan that sends heat coursing through my body .

One of my hands slides into her hair and I tilt her head back to deepen the kiss further. I lose myself in the sensation, forgetting everything but the woman in my arms.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathless. Ada’s soft lips look plumper and her cheeks are rosy red. I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful.

Her eyes flutter open. “Wow,” she whispers.

“Yeah,” I agree. “Wow.”

I reluctantly step back, knowing if I don’t leave now, I never will. “Goodnight, Adaline.”

She smiles, her eyes bright. “Goodnight, Nikolas. Good luck in Dallas.”

On the drive home, I can still feel the warmth of her lips on mine and as soon as I enter the house, I head straight to the key basket and rummage through it until I find the gold ring she slipped onto my finger in Las Vegas. The moment I put it on, my phone buzzes on the countertop. It’s a text from Ada, with a photo. She’s extending her left hand, showing her matching gold band.

In the deepest, quietest part of my heart, I hope she wants to wear it for the rest of her life.

The roar of the Dallas Arena fades to white noise as I zero in on the puck. Dallas is pushing hard, their top line swarming our zone like angry hornets. My muscles are tense and ready to react.

Their star forward, Johnson, tries to slip past me on the left. Not fucking happening. I pivot, my stick flashing out to poke the puck away. In one smooth motion, I send it sailing down the ice.

“Fuck you, Huxley!” Johnson spits as he skates by.

I smirk. “Maybe if you spent less time running your mouth and more time working on your stick handling, you’d actually be a threat.”

Johnson’s face contorts with rage. He circles back, getting right in my face. “You wanna go, asshole?”

“Anytime, fucker,” I growl, but the refs are already watching us closely. We both know better than to drop gloves now.

I grin as Johnson skates away. This is hockey. This is what I live for. The adrenaline and the raw fucking intensity of it all.

I channel all that energy into my game. I’m everywhere—blocking shots, clearing the puck, using my body as a human battering ram.

During a face-off between Mac and their center, Johnson pulls up opposite me. “Getting tired yet, old man?” he sneers.

I snort. “I could do this all day, kid. Try to keep up.”

The puck drops and Mac wins. Just like that, I’m back in the zone. No distractions. Just the game, pure and simple.

As I skate back to the bench, Ada flickers through my mind. I’d managed a quick good morning text earlier. It’s not enough. I know it’s not. But right now, the game demands everything.

“Solid D, Hux,” Coach Bliss grunts as I grab my water. I nod, already focused on my next shift.

The third period is a war. Dallas is hungry, throwing everything they’ve got at us.

During a face-off, I glance at the scoreboard. We’re up by one. Ten minutes left. An eternity in hockey time.

Dallas wins the draw, charging our zone. Their captain winds up for a slapper. I drop, feeling the puck slam into my shin pad. Pain flares, sharp and immediate.

Ignore it. Clear the rebound. Keep going.

In these moments, with every muscle screaming and the game hanging by a thread, I find a familiar clarity. This is what I’ve built my life around. The speed, the strategy, the sheer physicality of it all.

But then Ada’s face flashes through my mind. Her smile. Her scent. The way she sees right through my bullshit. It catches me off guard, how much I think about her.

I grit my teeth, angry at myself for letting my focus slip. This isn’t the time. I can’t afford distractions, not now. Not with so much on the line.

The final buzzer blares and Dallas fans start filing out, disappointed. We’ve won and taken a 2-0 lead in the series. Back in the locker room, I fish out my phone. I stare at it. My thumbs hover over the keyboard. What do I say? I’m always a little lost for words. I settle on: Won the game. Heading back to Denver.

It’s terse. Probably too terse. But it’s all I can manage right now. As I head to the showers, surrounded by the victory whoops of my teammates, I feel a familiar conflict rising. The thrill of the win battles with the nagging sense that I’m screwing up something important. Something with Ada.

I’ve been here before, this tug-of-war between hockey and a relationship. Last time, hockey won. And I lost Debbie. But I can’t think about that now. We’ve got two more games to win. That’s what I need to focus on. That’s what I know how to do.

Even as I try to convince myself, a small voice in the back of my mind wonders if I’m making the same mistakes all over again.