Ryan nodded. "Yeah, for the University of Alberta." Memories of those days flooded back. The long practices, the adrenaline of game nights, the camaraderie in the locker room. "It was a hell of a time.”
“Lots of pressure?”
He let out a breath. “That, too.”
“I always thought it would be hard to balance sports and academics.” Aelin turned her body to face him more fully, and the idea of having her full attention made his foot drop harder on the gas. "What did you study?"
"Engineering." Ryan's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "My dad was a civil engineer, and it seemed like a good career."
Aelin raised an eyebrow. "Your idea or his?"
Ryan considered the question. His dad had never told him what to do with his career, but he didn’t ever seem to complain about his job like other parents. Once he got older, he realized that it was probably due to his personality rather than his choice of profession. "A bit of both, I guess."
Aelin nodded, her fingers tracing the rim of her travel mug. "Why didn't you keep playing hockey after college?"
Ryan shrugged. "I had a couple of offers, but they weren't exactly what I was hoping for. Plus, I had some obligations in Grand Prairie. Family stuff." He ran a hand through his hair. "And then, well, you know. I met Amaya's mom, and life took a different turn."
Were they really driving to the States together, and he’d never even told her where he was from? He wasn’t sure if that made the whole situation better or worse.
Aelin wet her lips. "Well, thank you so much for letting Bailey attend the camp. It's obvious that you love the game."
Ryan's eyes flicked to hers. "Yeah, I do. It's good to be back on the ice, even if it's just for fun now."
He asked her questions about California, and she told him about growing up in Huntington Beach. It all sounded like a dream. Like a show he would’ve watched on pirated American satellite growing up.
She skipped fast through her college era, noting that she met Clark at UCLA.
“But he’s Canadian?”
She nodded. “Yeah. He was there on a lacrosse scholarship.”
Ryan frowned. “Damn. Don’t give me a reason to like him.”
Aelin snorted. “Yeah, he fooled me, too.” She leaned forward. "I forgot to ask, are we taking the scenic route or going through Ft. Macleod?”
Ryan glanced at his phone. “Wherever the map sends me?”
Aelin grinned and pulled his phone from the mount. “Scenic. Are you okay with that?”
“Through Crowsnest Pass?” he asked. She nodded. “Might as well take advantage when the weather’s good.” He’d driven that pass for hockey tournaments in the middle of winter, and it was scary as shit.
Aelin put his phone back. “Perfect. I think Bailey will be good until we get close to the border. Maybe stop for lunch there before we have to flush half the value of a dollar down the toilet?”
Ryan chuckled. “C’mon, only thirty cents.”
Aelin opened her purse and pulled out a bag. He glanced over. “Are those Sour Patch Kids?”
“Only the best for my chauffeur.” She ripped the bag open with her teeth, and knowing her lips were on the bag sent a jolt through him as he reached in.
“This trip is going to get crazy if we’re hitting the sauce before noon.”
Aelin sighed. “I would’ve brought the good stuff, but I didn’t want it to get confiscated by border patrol.”
Ryan chuckled. "It’s Montana. They have plenty of the good stuff."
After stopping for lunch at an A&W and stretching their legs, they made it to the line at the border. Thankfully, it wasn’t long at midday on Sunday. Probably because most of southern Alberta was in church. His in-laws would love it.
Ryan pulled up to the booth and rolled down his window, handing the agent his and Aelin’s passport and the birth certificates for the girls.
