We don’t just hit the ice—we body-check it into next week. Coach has us doing sprints, zone drills, and full-pressure scrimmage. There are no breaks, and we’re giving it one thousand percent. Even with all the hard work, the chirps don’t stop.
“Hey, lover boy,” Axl shouts mid-rush. “You should have saved some of that soft touch for the puck.”
I snort, zooming past him with a perfect pass to Tyson. “Still beat your time on the last drill.”
I shake off the teasing as I fly around the ice. It becomes just a bunch of background noise. When practice wraps up, Coach yells at us some more. While he drones on, I peel off my gloves and wipe sweat from my brow with my jersey. Today was no joke. I wait until Carlson leaves the locker room to check my phone, and there’s no message.
Not that I was expecting anything.
I hover my thumb over Koren’s name in my contacts. I’m excited to talk to her, but it’s more than that. We both know we’re officially back together. It sounds so simple, but I’m ready for an old-school date. The kind we had last summer. Neither one of us had much money, but we went on the kind of dates that spoiled each other with love. A picnic basket filled with whatever we stole from our parents’ kitchens. We’d hike a random trailuntil we were pretty sure we were lost and then plop down, spending hours just the two of us.
I put my phone back in my pocket, already imagining the sweet smile she’ll have for me when I pick her up with a packed picnic basket.
This time is so different.
I can feel it way down deep in my toes.
It’s forever.
nineteen
Koren
Somehow, I had forgotten how to breathe around Elijah when he’s like this. He is standing at the trailhead, wearing a backpack with a rolled-up blanket sticking out of the top. Wearing a white henley that hugs his sculpted shoulders a little too well. His shoulders could seriously be a main character all by themselves. Phew. I try not to blush as I park next to his car. “Why does this feel like a dream?” I ask as I step out of my car and stroll over to him.
He hikes a brow. “A dream with PB&J?”
“That’s the best kind.”
He leans in to kiss my cheek, and my heart flutters the same way it did the first time he kissed me. I remember his hands were warm from the bonfire, and he wrapped them around my waist, giving me warm goosebumps. His breath was ridiculously minty, like he gargled cups of mouthwash in preparation. I smile at the flutters that seem to last several seconds. Everything with Elijah feels new again, yet so familiar.
“If it’s alright with you, I was thinking we’d do the short hike to that first overlook.” He tugs at the backpack straps, adjusting the bag as he moves slowly toward our favorite trail. “Like old times.”
His words ring through the air, filling my mind with so many good thoughts. “That sounds perfect.” We fall into an easy stride, as neither of us hikes for exercise. We are all about being in the moment on these walks. We love to point out the randomness along the way: a scurrying chipmunk, mossy roots shaped like a heart, or the way the sunlight filters through the pines.
About halfway up, I think of something funny. “Remember when you tried to impress me by saying you could sprint up this hill while giving me a piggyback ride?”
“Vividly.” His groan is playful. “I was so stubborn I didn’t give up until I nearly dislocated my shoulder.”
I shake my head, like each movement of my neck makes my fondness for him only grow stronger. “No one can call you a quitter.”
“I’d say I was more a fool in love.” His words are so easy and float through the breeze right to my chest, causing more little flutters. I’m not even winded by the time we reach the overlook. He gets busy spreading the blanket and setting up our picnic, and I use my phone to capture all of this in photos.
Just when the sun starts to descend lazily through the trees, we plop down next to each other on the blanket, sitting so close that our hips are touching. I reach for a sandwich, handing the first one I grab from his bag to him. "You can try it first to make sure it’s not poison," I say, reaching back into his bag to grab one for myself.
"I wouldn’t want it any other way.” He playfully nudges his elbow with mine. “You’re just preparing me for marriage. It’s a husband's job to protect his wife.”
I raise an eyebrow and tease, “Is this your way of proposing?”
“Well, logistically I want to wait until dessert,” he says with a wink, pulling my favorite M&M cookies in a clear Ziploc from his backpack. “But if you want to hurry things along, you can get started now.”
I laugh, taking the bag from him. “The cookies look good, but remember you promised me a real ring this time. I think I’m going to hold you to that.”
“Are you sure about that? You might want to taste these first. I got them fresh from the Coffee Loft this morning.”
“I’ll definitely give them a try.” I nibble off the corner. He’s right as they are amazing. “Mmm,” I hum, my eyes half-hooded.
“My turn to try,” he announces, but instead of reaching into the Ziplock for another cookie, he leans toward me. “But I want to sample that crumb on your lip.”
