I'm not that lucky.
Connor's truck is in the driveway when I pull up. I grab my gear bag from my room and I'm almost back to the door when I hear his voice from the kitchen.
"Ryder. Got a minute?"
I close my eyes. Take a breath. Then head to the kitchen.
Connor's at the table with coffee and what looks like contract paperwork. He glances up when I enter. His expression is unreadable.
"Where were you last night?"
No point lying. "The inn."
"With Lucy."
It's not a question. I set my gear bag down. "Yeah."
He's quiet for a long moment. Studies me. Then nods slowly. "Emma's been on my ass for three days. Says I need to talk to you before the game."
"You don't have to—"
"Yeah, I do." He stands. "Look, I was an asshole on Christmas. Said things I shouldn't have."
"You weren't wrong about everything."
"I was wrong about what matters." He crosses his arms. "Emma helped me see that. Lucy's an adult. She makes her own choices. And she chose you."
My throat tightens. "She did."
"So I guess my question is: are you choosing her back? Or is this just until you leave for Boston?"
"I'm choosing her. Every day. For as long as she'll have me." I meet his eyes. "I know it's complicated with Boston and the distance. But I love her. And I'm going to do whatever it takes to make this work."
Connor nods. Then his jaw tightens. "If you hurt her, I'll break both your arms."
"Fair."
"I mean it, Blackwood. She's my baby sister."
"I know. And I'm going to do everything I can to make her happy. That's a promise."
He studies me for another long moment. Then something in his expression eases slightly. "Okay. But we're not good. Not yet. You want my blessing? You have to prove it first."
"I will."
It's not a full reconciliation. But it's a start. Better than I hoped for an hour ago.
Connor picks up his coffee. "Game starts at noon. Don't be late."
"I won't."
I grab my gear and head out. The conversation loops through my head as I drive to the rink. Not perfect. But maybe that's okay. Maybe trust is something you rebuild slowly, one day at a time.
Starting today.
The rink is already buzzing when I arrive at ten thirty. Parking lot half full, news vans setting up near the entrance, volunteers hanging banners for the children's hospital. Inside, the air smells like ice and popcorn and possibility.
I head for the locker room and find half my teammates already there. Cade is taping his stick. Alexei is stretching in the corner. And leaning against the wall with his trademark smirk is Hayes Matthews, the cocky winger from Chicago who somehow talked his way onto the roster last week.
