His cheeks warmed as his stomach twisted. "I know. I'm surprised you still have it."
"It was the best gift you ever gave anyone."
Country hesitated, then turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open. "Home sweet home." He helped Jenna through the door, and for the briefest of moments, an alternate reality flashed through his head. One where it wasn't just her home but theirs. Where he'd close the door behind them and lock the deadbolt. Help her out of her clothes and crawl under the sheets, pulling her against his body for the night.
He shook his head to clear it, suddenly feeling like his clothes were two sizes too small. "Are you going to be alright?"
Jenna stumbled as she kicked off her shoes, and he kept hold of her arm to be sure she didn’t bite it on the tile. "I'm fine. Thanks for—" She yawned again. Maybe he had been wrong about her being a night owl. Though it was almost four in the morning. He was going to have to listen to Led Zeppelin on the ride home to keep himself from nodding off.
Jenna stood on her now bare feet and looked up at him, her eyes lucid for the first time since leaving the truck. She glanced down at his hand wrapped around her arm and tugged it away from him. "Thank you. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep."
"It's good. You remember your car is still locked in the garage."
Jenna pressed two fingers to her temple. "Right."
"Do you need me to?—"
She groaned. "Ugh. I'll have to go in on my day off." Jenna slumped against the couch. “It’s fine. Anne can drive me Monday. At least I don’t have to get there early.”
Country shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress slacks. "Well."
Jenna ran her tongue over her lower lip. "Thanks for the drink. Drinks. Plural. And for driving so far out of your way."
"Why do you assume it's out of the way?"
Jenna rolled her eyes. "Goodnight, Gentry."
His heart ached. He wanted to pound his fist against the door and force her to spell everything out right then in the foyer. Country clenched his hands. He couldn’t do that. For the first time, he considered why he hadn’t just asked her at the table why she’d called things off.
Because he wasn’t sure he could handle the answer.
He kept nudging her into the past hoping that when they finally had that conversation, she’d make a different choice than she had last time. Or at least admit that she’d made the wrong one, even if she couldn’t make the right one now.
He needed to know that she hadn’t left because of him. She hadn’t called things off because he wasn’t good enough, because he wasn’t loveable.
Country’s Adam’s apple bobbed. "Make sure to brush your teeth. And probably go to the bathroom."
Jenna shooed him toward the door. "I'll even floss."
He doubted that.
_____
The Snowballs rarely practiced on the weekend, but their holiday tourney was coming up on the twenty-first, and Jack wanted to get in extra ice time. Country stepped onto the ice and glided over to join the weave already flowing. Sean had paid for extra ice time, but they were sharing it with a few instructors and private figure skating clients and only had half the rink.
“Don't Stop Believin'" blared over the speakers, and nostalgia folded over him like a quilt. He inhaled the frigid air of the rink with its distinctive scent of rubber, metal, and motor oil. The chill against his cheeks always felt like home, and it gave much-needed grounding when the past twenty-four hours had felt like a fever dream.
Jack and Sean passed the puck back and forth at a speed that made Country's heart race. Jack was good. Better than good. He was barely twenty-nine, all tattoos and muscle with a handle on his stick that left Country feeling slightly threatened. Sean must’ve made some kind of deal with the devil to snag this kid before the rest of the league got wind of him.
Country rotated in with André and Mike, and after another half-hour of drills, the figure skaters finally cleared out, allowing them to take over the whole rink. They scrimmaged until the Zamboni door opened, then cleared the pucks and net and made their way to the locker room.
Country stripped off his pads and base layer, dropping them in a sweaty heap on the bench, then walked to the showers. His mind had been running like a go-kart on a track for over twelve hours, trying to figure out where to go from here. He didn’t have a built-in reason to see Jenna, and that both filled him with relief and winched his heart into his throat.
He just needed closure. He’d repeated it in his head every day for a week, but the phrase was beginning to slip through his fingers. Was there anything Jenna could tell him that would convince him it was the right thing for them to be apart? He imagined her sitting across from him at Industry. The way she’d clung to him on the sidewalk. That keychain on her key ring. Closure wasn’t going to be enough.
"Saw the broadcast last night, Country. You slayed." Ryan took a pump of soap from the dispenser on the wall and used it like shampoo.
Boyd chuckled. "Have you seen the clips floating around? People are losing their shit about that comment about Decker."
