I woke up this morning, feeling better than I expected … mentally speaking. Physically, it feels as uncomfortable, throbbing, and painful as I remember from the last time I tore it. I’m positive my better mood has a lot to do with the gorgeous blonde I woke up wrapped around. I’m pretty sure she could solve world peace with that smile of hers.
I can’t get her out of my fucking head in a way I’ve never experienced before. Certainly not with anyone else, but even with her. That’s saying something, given that I’ve been infatuated with her since we were kids.
Although there is a thought in the back of my mind telling me that we might have been cursed. First, my accident on the ice happened and now her apartment flooded. But we’ll sort it all out together, I’m sure.
I want to do something nice for dinner tonight though. She deserves it after the week she’s had. We both do.
The driver I hired for the day pulls up to the front of the building, and I slide into the backseat.
We’re heading to the arena next so I can see the boys and coaches before heading home. It’s going to be hard, watching them on the ice, knowing it’ll be months and months until I’m back at their sides. Someone will shift into my defensive pair with Reed, and I have to find a way to be okay with it for the time being. For the benefit of the team, I’m supportive, but selfishly, I’m jealous as hell.
“Thanks, man,” I thank the driver as we head to the rink, merging into the busy New York City traffic.
“Of course, sir.” He smiles in the rearview mirror at me.
Pulling my phone out, I shoot a quick text to Kos. He probably isn’t out on the ice yet, as there’s still thirty minutes to go, although he is usually the first one out there every practice.
Hey, do you still have the contact info for the private chef you guys hired for the last dinner?
The Kosteleckys host a dinner party usually once a month—a new tradition this season—and it’s been a lot of fun. But the food at the last one was top-fucking-tier, and Lainey deserves nothing less tonight.
Kos: [Auriella Chef Contact]
Kos: Here you go. You planning something?
Yeah, kind of.
Kos: For you and Lainey?
That’s awfully presumptuous. I could need the chef’s contact for a number of reasons that aren’t for a date.
Yeah. For tonight. Keep it quiet though.
Kos: I got you. You still stopping by today?
On my way now.
He reads the message, but I don’t get another text back from him, so I assume he’s heading to the ice.
I send a quick message over to Auriella, praying for a miracle that she’s available. I offer to pay her whatever she wants if she’s able to pull it off, within reason.
She responds only a couple of minutes later as we’re turning onto the arena’s street.
Auriella Chef: Hi! Thanks for reaching out. I actually had tonight’s session cancel late yesterday, so I might be able to make it work. How many in the party?
Just two.
Auriella Chef: Time? And meal requests?
6 or 7? Any appetizer. I’d love to have some kind of pasta for the entrée. And a dessert. Honestly, whatever you can make work on the short notice would be incredible.
Auriella Chef: Sounds great! Any allergies or food we want to avoid?
I text back and forth with her as we near the front of the rink before tucking my phone into my pocket, telling the driver I’ll beright back. I get out of his vehicle, using my crutches, and head inside the arena.
Security lets me in and greets me with a smile. “Good to see you, Mr. Donnelley.”
“Thanks, man. Happy to be stopping by. I wish I were here to do more, but baby steps … baby steps.”
