He laughs. “Baby, I’m an NHL player. I don’t need your dad to get me a roster spot. I have one all on my own.”
My stomach sinks. He’s definitely off-limits if he plays for a different team than my dad coaches. The only thing that would make him even more off-limits is if he played for Boston.
“I can’t do this,” I tell him honestly. “I have to go.”
“Can I see you again?”
I have to give him points for his persistence. “That’s not a good idea.”
“I don’t care who your dad is,” Seb says firmly. “That has no bearing on you and me.”
“Except we live in different cities. And you’re probably about to be traded. You get a fresh start in a new place.”
“I don’t care,” he says. “They can trade me wherever. I want to see you again. I’m okay with long distance. Whatever it takes. I only want a chance to get to know you.”
He reaches for me and, this time, I let him pull me into his arms. He wraps his arms around me, my face pressed to his chest.
“We can make this work,” he says.
I want to believe him. I do.
There’s so much stacked against us. His job, grad school, my dad’s career… and that’s on top of potential long distance.
“What we have—there’s something between us,” Seb says quietly. “I knew it from the second I saw you. I just—I knew. Please don’t give up on us. Not before we have a chance to start trying.”
“Okay.” My voice comes out in a whisper. I clear my throat and meet his eyes. “Okay.”
Seb cups my cheek again, kissing me softly. It feels like a promise.
“I should go. You have stuff to deal with.”
He shakes his head. “I’d rather deal with you.” But he releases me, taking a step back. “Third time’s the charm. Can I get your number?”
With a laugh, I fish my phone off the floor, where it must have fallen out of my pocket. I unlock it and he punches in his number, calling his own phone. It vibrates from underneath the bed.
“I’ve got a meeting with my agent tomorrow, then a bunch of interviews,” he says apologetically.
“So you’re here for the draft?”
He nods. “My brother—the youngest one—he’s getting drafted.”
He sounds so confident. There’s no hesitation there.
“How are you so sure?”
Seb smirks. “Everyone in my family has been picked in the first round. Even Uncle Todd was picked last in the first round, but still taken in the first round.”
“Wow. So when you say it’s your family business…”
“My brothers and I all play. My dad and my uncles played. My grandfather played.”
Squinting at him, I try to clock his features. He doesn’t look familiar, but I’ve admittedly been out of the loop the last four years I was away at college. I avoided all things hockey.
“So I’d know your family?”
“You’re familiar with the Henry dynasty?” He cocks his head.
Slowly, I nod. Everyone’s heard of the Henry family. Their family has won more Stanley Cups between them than any other. There are three brothers active in the league now, plus two of the older generation working in the front office of various teams. I’m fairly certain one is a GM.
