“Does he? Well, at least we know he has good taste in outerwear.”
“Oh Violet. For everyone’s sake, I hope he makes a move soon and puts us all out of our misery.” She chuckles to herself before heading to the laundry room to search for my sweater.
Though she was no longer in the room, her words swam around in my head.I hope he makes a move soon…
sixteen
. . .
Mason
three years ago
chicago
Airports arethe 10th circle of hell which is why offering to pick someone up from the airport is a love language. Hence me now sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic on my way to pick up Violet. I’d been wired all morning; pregame jitters are what we will call it.
Sometime between Monroe leaving earlier this morning and Violet texting me how much she was looking forward to spending time with me this weekend, I realized Monroe was right. I wanted Violet. I think it took me so long tocome to this realization because I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when our friendship turned into something more.
You always hear couples saying things like, “And that was when I knew she was the one!”, but I couldn’t narrow it down to one specific time when I was with Violet and thought, “Damn, this is it for me”. I am too inexperienced with love to pinpoint a monumental moment like that, but I can recall dozens of little moments over the past sixteen years that felt significant in hindsight.
I can remember how natural it felt to welcome the shy little kid who had just moved to our small town when she was six years old. I can remember holding her while she cried because her mom had to miss Christmas for a new temp job at the local hospital. I can remember the sense of pride that filled my chest when she published her first research paper. I had read it at least five times and still couldn’t figure out what it was about. My girl wrote it, and that was enough.
On my way to practice this morning, it became clear that the reason I couldn’t figure out the exact moment I fell for Violet was because I couldn’t remember a time when Ididn’tlove her. And I supposed it was about time I told her that.
I make it to Violet’s gate before she sends me a text saying she’ll be out soon. Every romance movie tells me the guy should wait outside of the car so the girl can run into his arms, so I do. But shit, the March wind in Chicago is absolutely brutal. I check my reflection in the side mirror and run my fingers through my hair a few times as if good hair will help Violet realize she’s in love with me too. Romance movies also tell me chicks fall all over a guy rocking a backward ballcap.Maybe I have a cap in the car…I search my backseat for a baseball cap when I see her walking toward me. I shut the car door and turned to face her. I take in her long, curly black hair that’s currently being grounded by the beanie on her head. Shit, so hats are hot on girls too. Her face is flushed from the cold, and a smile takes up her whole face as she sees me. She’s so stunning when she looks atme like that. Before I have time to overthink it, I wrap my arms around her waist and bring her into my chest for a soul-crushing hug, praying she doesn’t notice how fast my heart is beating.
A small laugh leaves her lips, and she wraps her arms around my neck and buries her head deeper into my chest. “Well hello there. That is quite the greeting.”
“Can you blame a guy for missing you?”
“No, I'm pretty fantastic. I’d miss me too.”
We break apart and I grab her suitcase. I place it in the trunk and circle the car to open the door for her. “Shall we?”
I watch her face in anticipation, as she sees the small bouquet of flowers on the seat.
She looks pleased, “I feel like I should be the one getting you flowers. It’s your game day after all.”
Smiling like an idiot, I close her door and round the car to the driver’s side. I pull out from the curb and head toward I-490.
“Yeah, but it’s your first time seeing me playing for the Rangers and instead of going somewhere warm and tropical for the rest of your spring break, you chose to come to the frigid cold of Chicago.”You chose to spend it with me.
“Well, you are on the first line. I had to see it with my own eyes to believe it.” She teases.
“Yeah, it’s been pretty insane. It’s still a temporary thing as far as I know. During practices they’ll still switch me and Kallum in and out of the lines and it’s usually a game-day decision whose starting.”
A few weeks ago, the coaches pulled me aside and let me know that they’d decided to move me up to the first line for our game against the Bruins. It was a ballsy choice given the guy I was replacing was Kallum Donovan — one of the most popular and established guys on the team and my alternate captain. A part of me wanted to turn it down. I had only been with the Rangers for a year and didn’t want to start any tension. But a bigger part of me knew that there wasn’t a point to any of this if I didn’t bet on myself.
“So, I have to warn you…I was only able to book one room since the hotel was basically sold out.” It wasn’t an entirely true statement. I had initially booked two rooms, one for my sister and Violet and one for myself. But then one of my teammates, Connor Marshall, realized he booked a room in a hotel an hour outside of the city, so I let him take my room and figured I’d sleep on the couch or something.
She raises an eyebrow at me. “Well when you bring someone home tonight, can you point me in the direction of the closest Motel?”
My face flushes bright red and my stomach vacates my insides and plummets to the floor. I felt sick about the woman I loved thinking about me in bed with someone else. Even though I had earned that quip.
“I wouldn’t do that to you. Especially not after the week you just had.” I am looking at the road ahead, but I can see her head hanging down as she begins picking at her fingernails. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“About my dad?” I nod. “Nope. He’s taken up enough of my time. And I won’t let him ruin this weekend too.”
