Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
I didn’t remember undressing or turning the lights low, but I knew I’d never forget the look in his eyes as he moved inside me. Sort of desperate, sort of sad, yet somehow hopeful too. Or maybe that was me wanting to believe this wasn’t a final good-bye.
I arched to meet every thrust, wrapping my legs around him to anchor him and keep us connected until we orgasmed together, tangled in fervent kisses…and sweat and cum. I was afraid he’d leave after we cleaned up, but he stayed.
We sipped wine while we did the dishes naked, singing along to Frosty the Snowman and sharing reminiscence of holidays from our youth—wacky sweaters and gifts you wished came with a receipt. We laughed, pretending not to notice the melancholy sound. Then we turned off the music, locked the doors, and climbed the stairs again, wordlessly falling into each other’s arms.
In the morning, he was gone.
I sat up and stared at the empty space beside me, feeling numb and raw. Eventually, I dressed in sweats and a Slammers sweatshirt and headed downstairs to make coffee.
There was a note next to the machine under a roll of orange hockey tape. I pushed the tape aside and picked up the piece of paper.
I checked your schedule. Your first game is next Wednesday so I thought you might need this.
Till next season.
That was when I broke.
My throat closed around the grapefruit-sized ball of emotion, my chest heaved, and my eyes burned with unshed tears. I hadn’t cried since my grandfather passed away the week after my NHL debut. It was the last time I’d lost someone important and irreplaceable…the last time my foundation had been cracked.
I sank to the kitchen floor and braced my elbows on my knees.
Fuck, I wasn’t ready for good-bye.
I parked my rental car next to Vinnie’s Jeep in the lot at the rink and tugged my beanie onto my head as I marched to the entrance, mindful of the patch of ice near the curb. The skies were clear this morning, but damn, it was cold and frosty. The kind of weather where even a shallow exhale looked like a steam locomotive.
And in the peculiar way that odd thoughts ricocheted like a pinball machine gone wild, a strong flash of déjà vu hit me out of the blue. I was six or seven, dressed in serious winter gear making snow angels with my eyes half-closed against the sun’s glare, yet wide enough that I could see my breath and I could hear my parents and sister laughing nearby. It was freezing, but the memory was warm and carefree…and safe.
Like this town.
I spared a quick glance at the row of well-kept older homes beyond the snow drift and pushed the door open.
The reception desk was empty and the lights in the main corridor were dim, but the building hummed with energy. I called a greeting to the lone skater slicing across the ice.
Vinnie stopped on a dime and cocked his head curiously. “Yo, Trunk. What’re you up to? Did you come to work out? We’ve got forty-five minutes till the figure skaters take over.”
“No, I came to say good-bye.”
He skated to the side, a frown etched across his brow. “I thought you were leaving tomorrow. Aren’t you coming to dinner tonight?”
“No, I can’t. I, uh…I’m driving to Burlington today to drop off my rental car. My flight leaves early tomorrow morning, so it’s easier,” I said vaguely.
Vinnie scoffed. “Fuck that. I’ll take you to the airport and deal with your rental for you. We need you at the diner, man. I’ve got the juniors locked in and Nolan agreed to burgers, fries, and shakes on the house.”
“Tonight? Did we talk about that?”
“No, I’m springing it on you now,” he replied with his signature lopsided grin. “We take our send-offs seriously in Elmwood, so humor me, for fuck’s sake.”
“I appreciate it, but…” My gaze darted between the scoreboard and the new plexiglass surrounding the rink. I finally met Vinnie’s eyes and damn, I had a bad feeling I wouldn’t be able to speak without choking up.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. You should be on cloud fucking nine right now. You’re back, Trunk. Ten weeks ago, you were flat on your ass with tweety birds circling your head and everyone said that was it. Hell, two days ago the media was speculating about your retirement, and you’re about to show them what a real fighter looks like. You’ve been smiling for weeks, but you’re gloomy as fuck now. Don’t tell me you’re gonna miss me or something.”
I chuckled softly. “Yeah, I’m gonna miss you. I am. Thank you for everything. This has all been above and beyond. You were right. Elmwood was the perfect place to heal.”
He nodded. “You’re welcome any time.”
“Thanks.”
Vinnie ignored my outstretched hand, fixing me with a sharp no-nonsense look. “Was there something else on your mind?”