New York Type of Love: Matt Rempe

The soft morning light filtered through the blinds, casting golden streaks across the bedroom. Nova stirred first, blinking against the warmth of it as she adjusted to the quiet hum of early morning. Her muscles ached—a dull, familiar reminder of the war she waged on the ice last night. Every hit, every shift, every punch thrown after that cheap shot still clung to her body like a phantom echo.

Matt's arm was draped over her waist, his hand resting against her stomach, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm behind her. He was still completely out, lost to exhaustion, and Nova didn't blame him. The adrenaline from last night's playoff win had kept them both running on fumes until they crashed together beneath the blankets. She turned her head slightly, a small smile creeping across her face as she took in the mess of his dark hair, so different from the way it looked neatly tucked beneath his helmet.

For a moment, she just lay there, soaking in the warmth of his presence, the quiet peace of the morning. But eventually, her body had other plans, and she carefully maneuvered out of his grasp.

Matt let out a sleepy groan of protest. "Where you goin'?" he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

"Bathroom," she whispered, pressing a quick kiss to his temple before slipping away.

By the time she returned, Matt had rolled onto his back, stretching as his muscles flexed beneath the sheets. His eyes cracked open just enough to find her, a lazy grin tugging at his lips.

"Good morning."

"Morning," she murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Matt reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers. "How you feelin'? That was one hell of a game last night."

Nova sighed, rolling her shoulder. "Sore. But worth it."

Matt smirked, tugging her back down onto the bed, his lips brushing hers in a slow, unhurried kiss. She melted into it, letting herself get lost in the way he held her, as if they had all the time in the world.

Then, a sudden crash from the kitchen shattered the moment.

They both startled before groaning in unison.

"What are the odds Jack and Luke are attempting breakfast?" Matt muttered.

Nova huffed. "Disaster."

With that, they pulled on sweatpants and T-shirts before heading out to assess the damage.

The smell of bacon and coffee hit her first as they stepped into the kitchen, where Jack and Luke were manning the stove. Cooper, their lovable cavapoo sat at their feet, tail wagging as he zeroed in on a fallen piece of bacon.

Jack glanced up, spatula in hand, and smirked. "Oh, look who finally decided to show up. Thought you two might never leave that room."

Nova rolled her eyes. "At least we didn't almost burn down the kitchen."

Luke, flipping a pancake, shot her a look. "Relax, chef extraordinaire, we've got it under control."

She wasn't convinced, but instead of arguing, she went straight for the coffee. Matt, meanwhile, ruffled Cooper's fur before tossing him the stray bacon, earning an eager tail thump in return.

Just as they settled at the table, Jack's phone buzzed loudly on the counter. He picked it up, glanced at the screen, and grinned. "It's Quinn."

To their surprise, Quinn wasn't alone. Their parents' faces appeared on the screen, their mom smiling brightly. "Hey! We just watched Nova's game last night!"

Nova leaned over, already bracing herself.

"Are you okay, sweetheart? That was quite a hit."

She sighed but smiled. "I'm fine, promise."