He closes the distance between us, touches me on the cheek. “You want the truth or for me to sugar coat it?”
“Both.” I unlock my car, toss my bag inside.
“It’ll all work out.”
Turning, I glare at him.
He tugs at a strand of my hair, eyes dancing. “You said you wanted both.”
“Okay, give me the non-unicorn and rainbows version.”
“That conversation certainly didn’t sound good.” His mouth quirks. “Though I enjoyed the part when you told her you’d sue her.”
“I didn’t say that.”
A shrug. “Close enough.”
Sighing, I drop my head against his chest. “I don’t understand her.”
“I don’t see how you would.”
The wind picks up and even though I’m pressed to him, his strong arms around me, I still shiver.
“Let’s get you home,” he says, dropping his arms and tugging open my driver’s side door. “You’re cold.”
I nod. “Yeah, I am.”
But most of that cold isn’t from the actual temperature.
It’s from the knowledge that, sometimes, as good as you want people to be…
They’ll inevitably disappoint you.
I open the door to the delicious smell of my potato soup.
It’s been cooking in the crock pot all day and the loaf of bread I snagged from the grocery store on the way home is still warm.
The only downside?
I’ll be eating dinner for one.
I’ve had almost six weeks of Colt mostly to myself and now that he’s back on the road with the team our time together is drastically decreased.
But Damon is my brother, was my only family for many years—and quite a few of those were with him playing professional hockey or working for a hockey team or now, being the head honcho when it comes to managing a different hockey team.
I’m self-sufficient.
I’m good at filling my time.
But I miss Colt.
My phone buzzes as I walk into the kitchen, and I push away the tension between Holly and me that hasn’t eased over the last few weeks, ignore the tiny hole in my heart that comes from Colt being on the road, and pretend that my apartment still feels like home even though it’s Colt’s place that I’m most comfortable in nowadays.
I set down the bread then dig out my phone as I move to my bedroom.
Jammies. Soup and carbs. Wine…and hockey.
Because my reality TV watch time has decreased severely in the face of watching my favorite hockey forward.
