Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
He nodded slowly and quirked his lips. “Yeah, it’s been a rough day, but it’s also Christmas Eve, and we should be celebrating. I’m supposed to be at my parents’ house in an hour, but…I have something for you.”
“For me?”
Ivan slid a medium-sized box across the bistro table and nodded. “Open it.”
I had bigger things on my mind than holiday gifts, but…okay. I untied the ribbon, ripped off the reindeer paper with zero finesse. “Am I doing this wrong?” I teased, chuckling at Ivan’s wince.
“No, enthusiasm is good. Messy, but good.”
I grinned as I opened the lid and sifted through a layer of tissue paper for… “What is all this?”
“Things from home.”
I pulled out a Bingo game, a box of cinnamon tea, one of the snowflakes we’d hung from the ceiling, a miniature black tree…not Christmas-tree shaped but the sentiment was obvious—and there were photos.
Me with the Mighty Mites during a lesson, me with the Bantam group on our sledding field trip in Fallbrook, me practicing with Vinnie, Riley, and the juniors, and a selfie of Ivan and me taken the day he’d dragged me to Pinecrest to go Christmas shopping for something nice for my parents. I’d rolled my eyes and struck a grumpy pose while Ivan beamed beside me, his arm wrapped casually around my shoulder.
I shuffled through the photos and yeah, I was touched for sure, but I didn’t understand. This gift was oddly specific and yet…not.
“Thank you, but…what am I missing?”
“Nothing. It’s silly.” He lowered his face to hide his pink cheeks. “I actually bought you that blue scarf you liked when we went shopping and—oops, just pretend you’re surprised when you open it. This box is an impetuous floopsie-daisy.”
I squinted, wrinkling my nose in confusion. “A what?”
“You know, a last minute throw-together. A ‘don’t forget us when you’re famous and rubbing elbows with celebrities in LA next year’ kind of gift,” he explained in a rush.
“Ah, okay. Well, thanks, but um, I’m not going to LA next year.” I set the photos on the table. “Or ever. Unless you want to go see the Kings with me or go to Disneyland.”
Ivan frowned. “What happened? You texted that it went well and—”
“It did,” I laced our fingers and drew him closer. “He had two contracts ready for me to sign, and he wanted it done before he finished his third Diet Coke.”
“Did you ask for more time?”
“No, I don’t need more time. I know where I belong and I know where I want to be. And it’s here.”
“Here? Why?” Ivan opened and closed his mouth. “You can’t do that, Court. This is what you wanted. This is—”
“Not true. It’s what I thought I wanted. Not anymore.” I dropped his hand and paced to the counter, hoping inspiration would strike ’cause I wasn’t sure how to do this and I wanted to do it right. “I lost my way a long time ago, Ive. I played not to lose, and I forgot why I loved hockey. Getting cut from the team was the second-best thing that ever happened to me. I needed to get my ass kicked, and I needed to relearn some basics. Vinnie was right about that. But the very best thing that happened to me was you.”
Ivan blinked like an owl at daybreak. “I…”
“I love you, Ive.”
His breath hitched audibly. “You…”
“I love you,” I repeated. “No one makes me laugh like you do, no one makes my heart beat like a helicopter at takeoff, and no one has ever pointed out what’s been there all along. Look, I’ve never been in love, and I’m probably fucking this up. You might not be ready for a real relationship, and that’s okay. We can go slow, we can—”
Ivan launched into my arms and wrapped himself around me like a koala. Our mouths collided in a fervent kiss that tasted like peppermint and home.
We broke for air eventually and shared a shy smile.
“I love you too. I don’t need to go slow, I don’t need to think about it. I’m already gone for you. So gone.”
“Me too, Ive.” I held his face in my hands and flicked the ball from his Santa hat out of his eyes. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
“Merry Christmas.”
An acapella version of “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” played from the speakers, and the heater blew on the snowflakes above us, twisting them like the ones drifting gently outside the window. It was beautiful. No, it was magical. A perfect backdrop to a perfect moment…and a perfect beginning.
This incredible, amazing man gazing at me with love and affection was mine. I was ready to let go of foggy notions of fame and fortune, success and failure. I didn’t need accolades for my hockey prowess. I’d remembered who I was and I knew where I wanted to be.