Liam holds up his phone. “I’m going to call the twins before I get dressed. I’ll just be a second.”
An idea hits me, some way to channel these feelings.
“Hey,” I call to him.
He looks back over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Let’s dedicate tonight’s game to Dad. He always wanted to visit Denver, remember?”
“He wanted to see the mountains,” Liam says, a half-smile crossing his face. “Good idea—let’s do it.”
But after he leaves, I can’t concentrate on anything. Normally, I joke around with Murph and a few of the guys. I go through a mental warm-up for the upcoming battle. I have my preps down.
One thing I never do is call Winter this close to game time.
I prefer to see her afterward when I can relax and really connect to her.
But I won’t be seeing her tonight because we play Arizona tomorrow, and we won’t be home in between.
My finger hovers over the touchpad of my phone.
I should wait to talk to her. Focus on the game.
But my heart isn’t listening to my mind. Not this time.
She picks up on the first ring. “Hunt? Doesn’t your game start soon? Is everything all right?”
Her unselfish concern and care for me hit me straight in the chest. More than that, my body’s reaction to her voice is palpable.
I relax. I stop nearly hyperventilating, which I’ve been on the verge of since Liam told me the news. And, I stop wanting to put my fist through the metal locker.
I’m in love with her.
It’s the first time I’ve allowed myself to admit that.
I love her so much that I nearly tell her.
But it’s not the right time for that. I don’t want my feelings for her to hold her back from returning to New York. I don’t want to be that guy. And I don’t know thatI’mready for what saying those words will entail.
So, I say, “Everything’s fine. I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“That’s sweet, Hunt.”
“And, Liam heard some news.”
“Oh?” Her voice rises. “You mean about the case?”
“Yep. The guy confessed to the murder of our father.”
She exhales both a breath and a stricken sound at the same time. “Oh, Hunt. Honey, I’m so sorry I can’t be there with you.”
“Me, too. But I’ll be home tomorrow night late.”
“Did you get details?” she asks in a nervous tone. “I’m assuming you did?”
“We did. They’re pretty…brutal.”
“I’m here for you,” she says softly. “If you want to talk after the game tonight, no matter the hour, call me.”
