“Hey,” Hannah snaps, and my gaze shifts to her. She’s grinning, and looking at her makes my breath loosen from my lungs. “You’re in la-la-land over there. What’s going on in that head of yours? Plotting other ways to make me look ridiculous?”
I’m considering getting on one knee and asking if you’ll hang out with me for the rest of my life so I can laugh like this forever. I want to bend you over this table and show you how much you mean to me. I think I might be falling in love with you, and it scares the hell out of me because the last thing I ever want to do is hold you back or not be good enough for you.I don’t know what I’m doing, but I want to try with you.
“Nothing.” I set down the puck and walk around the table, pulling her in a tight hug. She relaxes against me, cheek on my chest. Hand over my heart, and everything is right in the world. “Just daydreaming.”
Peace.
That’s the way to describe what it’s like to have her in my arms.
The outside noises, the responsibilities, the list of things I need to accomplish tomorrow—everything else on my plate disappears. It narrows down to a single thing, the only woman who has ever had so much of my attention.
Her.
“Brody?” she says, my name muffled in my sweater.
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“Don’t ever make me play air hockey again.”
“Okay.” I bury my face in her hair, feeling drunk. Fucking intoxicated and goddamn giddy when she’s in my orbit. If everyone was like her, I’d always walk around with the biggest smile on my face. “I promise I won’t.”
“Can we grab a bite to eat? I’ll pay, since you wiped the floor with me.”
“Abso-fucking-lutley not. I might kick your ass, but I’m going to take care of you too.”
With a hand on the back of her neck, we find a table near a large wooden beam. A jukebox sits in the corner and plays some sappy love ballad from the eighties I remember my mom listening to when I was young. Hannah orders a burger and I go for the chicken sandwich, not putting up a fight when she steals a tater tot from my tray.
“Do you have a bucket list?” I ask, grabbing an extra stack of napkins from a server passing by. “The guys were talking about them at practice the other day.”
“Oh, good question. As far as athletic achievements go, medaling at the Olympics is at the top, but that feels out of reach these days.” Hannah pauses to add ketchup to her burger and take off a piece of lettuce. “Non-athletic things would be a trip around the world. Tierney and I have talked about visitingParis and London and Tokyo, but we haven’t made it happen yet. Maybe pick up a new hobby and be good at it? Make an impact on someone’s life. Riding in a racecar would be freaking cool. I’d also like to love someone deeply. Like, that romcom movie level kind of love, you know?”
“Can’t eat, can’t sleep, reach for the stars World Series kind of love?”
“Did you just quote a Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen movie to me? Are youcultured?”
“Thank my daughter. We spent one summer watching their entire filmography, and if held at gunpoint, I could recite a quote from each one,” I tell her, and she drops her head back with a laugh.
“I’m impressed,” she says.
“So. A movie kind of love, huh?” I ask.
“Yeah. I don’t know. It sounds cheesy, but it feels like a rite of passage. I don’t think a relationship is indicative of a life well lived, but those warm, fuzzy feelings? The butterflies? Smiling so hard your cheeks hurt? A grand gesture with a boombox outside my window?” She shrugs, reaching for another of my tater tots. “Sounds like it could be fun until you get your heart broken, then everything sucks.”
“The circle of life, apparently.”
“What would be on your bucket list?”
“I have no clue. I’ve never thought about it, which is sad, since I’m almost forty.” I wipe my hands and fold my napkin in half. “My entire life, ever since I was four years old, has been perfectly laid out. I was on a travel hockey team by the time I was ten. Colleges were knocking on my door when I was fifteen. NHL scouts came to every one of my games at BC. Then Liv was born, and everything else took a back seat to being a father—which I’m grateful for. But I haven’t had any time to decide what the hellIwant.”
“Do you want to travel? Skate at some famous rink?” Hannah asks.
“I think I’d just like to…” I huff out a laugh. “Breathe? Uninterrupted? For just a minute? Maybe somewhere beautiful with someone I enjoy.”
“Youarea romantic.” Her foot nudges mine. “If you want someone to join you, I know a girl. She has a lot of free time, and for as much as people say the hockey coach is a grumpy asshole, she knows differently.” She looks at me from across the table. “And she would be very excited to accompany you.”
I don’t care that we’re in a public place. I don’t care who might be able to see us. I stand, walking to her chair, and put both hands on her cheeks. I tip her head back until our eyes meet. Then, I kiss her. I kiss her because I fuckingcan, and that just jumped to the top of my list.
THIRTY-THREE
