And our what?
Our new friendship?
I don’t know how to explain it, so I stop talking before I say too much.
She doesn’t press me to finish the sentence.
But she’s still smiling.
And somehow, that tells me she understands.
After a beat she says, “Yeah, it was the perfect day. To be honest, I was nervous. I didn’t know if you were concerned about the bridge or if this was a… date,” she admits, letting out a soft, uncertain laugh. “Or like… some sort of hockey loyalty test.”
The sound of her laugh lingers, and I can feel her gaze on the side of my face. I honestly forgot about hockey. That’s strangebecause I never forget about hockey or all the work I have waiting for me. My fingers tighten slightly on the wheel. I want to look at her fully. Instead, my eyes sweep to her for the briefest second before I force them back to the road and risk a weighty question. “Did you want it to be a date?” My voice is lower than I would have liked.
She exhales slowly. Then takes another full breath, before saying, “I haven’t dated in years. It’s not part of my life.” She pauses for a beat before adding, “But I’m so deeply flattered you didn’t cringe at the mere suggestion that this might have been a date.”
I chuckle softly, but there’s a tightness behind it, like I’m trying to keep something in check. I don’t know why her reaction is affecting me this way. I go on dates a lot, actually. Nothing has ever been serious, as I swore off anything serious after Lacy tore out my heart in high school. Ruth is stunning though, she’s certainly not even my usual “type” of woman as she has a son. She also appears to have some emotional baggage, but who doesn’t at this age? I lock my eyes on hers. My voice rasps when I ask, “So, is that a no or a yes?”
She blows out another breath and looks at me. “Maybe it’s that I'm confused why you’d bother.”
My heart picks up speed. “What’s there to be confused about?” I say, my voice is rougher now, more honest than I meant it to be. “You’re gorgeous, you’re funny, you know a lot about hockey, which is my favorite thing ever.” The words hang between us, as if I also need to hear them. Saying them out loud makes something shift inside me. A quiet, undeniable thrum. Maybe I missed it earlier because at first glance she wasn’t my type, but after spending the afternoon with her, I can see many things we have in common, including chemistry I didn’t expect but can’t deny.
“Look, I don’t want to mess things up for Noah,” she speaks gently. “As flattered as I am, I’m not looking to date someone who has a say in his future. And I’m definitely not looking tohelphim get places.”
“That’s fair,” I say, my voice lower. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t think about Noah once since we talked about him earlier. This wasn’t about him or my team.”
She is quiet again before echoing her last statement, “I just don’t want to interfere with what Noah has going on.”
“That’s what youdon’twant.” I pull on the wheel again, taking a curve in the road, but use the slow down to sneak a fast glance in her direction. “What do youwant?”
“No one’s ever asked me that.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
My jaw is tight as I keep my gaze forward, making sure the road is clear because I glance at her again. This time slower, because I don’t want to miss her reaction. “I’m asking you now.”
The glow from the dashboard light paints her features in muted amber, enough that I notice the way her lashes flicker. Eventually she parts her lips. A word might’ve started to form, but she holds everything in.
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel, understanding exactly what she doesn’t say…
ten
Ruth
When I return home, Noah’s standing in front of the kitchen sink on his phone. I take a deep breath as his gaze slams to me, and he eagerly points to the phone and mouths, “It’s Bill Baker.”
Flutters of nerves erupt from the very depths of my soul. My purse slides off my shoulder and drops to the floor with a thud, but I stand frozen.
Noah’s stone-cold silent.
I watch his face like a radar.
He starts pacing in slow circles. After what feels like an eternity, his hand presses over his mouth, where he holds it there as if he’s in shock. Then he exhales and flicks his gaze toward me while saying to the phone, “Thank you for the offer. It would be an honor to play for Granite Ice.” His speech accelerates, words tumbling into each other. A sure sign he’s bursting with adrenaline in the same way I am. A grin that might explode the roof off fills his face as he says a few more things, and then ends the call.
With his phone dangling from his fingers, he turns to me and whoops, “I made it!”
I open my arms as he practically leaps, grabbing me in a bear hug, lifting me off the ground and hollering, “I’m in the AHL!”
I’ve thought about this moment a lot over the years.
