"She almost said no. She told me about some ex of hers. His name was Brad. A hockey player from Burlington. He hurt her really badly. That's why she moved here, to get away from all of it."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. Then: "Brad? Did she say his last name?"
"No, she didn't want to talk about it." Mac stopped. "Why? Do you know something?"
"Maybe. Brad's not exactly an uncommon name, but..." Cole hesitated. "You said it was public? And she moved here to escape it?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"Brad Reese?" Cole's voice had gone careful. "Minor league hockey player? Played for the Burlington Blizzards?"
His insides hollowed out. "I think I remember that guy… Plays nasty on the ice."
"Shit." Cole exhaled. "Mac, if it's the same Brad, this guy was a piece of work. It was all over the internet about a year ago. He ended his engagement at the actual engagement party. Made a whole scene. It was bad enough that people were talking about it across leagues."
"Jesus Christ." Anger flared hot in his chest. "He ended their engagement at the party?"
"If it's the same guy, yeah. In front of all the guests. Word was he wanted someone more 'exciting' for his career. Guythought he was going places." Cole paused. "Spoiler alert: he didn't go places. Last I heard he was still playing minor league, barely."
"What the hell kind of person does that?" Mac's hand tightened around his phone.
"A shitty person?"
"Definitely. No wonder she said I'm 'a lot.' I probably reminded her of—"
"Don't go down that road," Cole interrupted firmly. "You're not him. You can't control what some asshole did a year ago."
"But I play the same sport he did. I'm asking her to trust another hockey player."
"And she said yes anyway." Cole's voice softened. "Mac, she could have said no, but she didn’t."
Mac leaned against his truck. "Cole, I really like her."
"I know, man."
"And I'm going to prove to her that I'm different. Not by telling her—by showing her."
"Good. That's exactly what she needs." Cole paused. "Just take it slow."
"Slow. Right. I can do slow." Mac scratched his hair. "She did stay for three hours though."
"There you go."
"Thanks, man. For the pep talk. For everything."
"Anytime. Now go home, plan the perfect ice skating date, and definitely don't look up Brad Reese online because that won't help anything."
"I wasn't going to—"
"Yes you were. Don't."
"You're right. Okay. Wednesday. I've got this."
"You've got this."
Mac drove home, not spiraling for once, because Rachel had said yes.
Wednesday couldn't come fast enough.
