“That I didn’t know about your crush, that you had to watch me with someone else. That you had to wait so long.”
“You don’t need to apologize. You were worth the wait, Blakely.”
And with that, it’s solidified. I can see myself falling fast and hard for this man if I haven’t started already.
“So you weren’ta big hockey fan before you started working for the Agitators?” Halsey asks.
I shake my head. “I obviously followed it and knew about the sport because I was trying to get a job in sports, so I kept up on the top ones, but I wasn’t a huge fan until I started watching all the games. Well, was forced to watch the games. The more I learned, the more I became invested in the sport and the team. I’d say I’m a huge fan now.”
Halsey takes a mouthful of his roasted veggies, then asks, “Am I your favorite player?”
“What kind of question is that?” I ask with a tilt of my head.
“A fair one.”
“Of course you’re my favorite.”
“Are you just saying that because you’re technically my roommate who shares a bed with me?”
“No.” I roll my eyes. “I’m saying that because you’re the best sex I’ve ever had.”
The smallest of grins passes over his lips. “Good answer.”
“Thought you might like that.”
“Do you have a second favorite player?”
I wipe my mouth with my napkin and set it on the table. “Um . . . I honestly think Pacey gets lost in the mix. The announcers are always saying that his job is easy because Hornsby and Posey are so good at what they do that it’s hard to penetrate their wall, but I’ve watched Pacey score shutout after shutout and not earn the credit for it.”
“I agree with you,” Halsey says. “Ever since his head injury, he hasn’t been given the credit he deserves, which is weird to me. You would think that with the way he performs, he’d get more praise.”
“Do you think he’ll be around much longer? I know he’s getting older, and I’m sure Winnie can’t be too happy he still plays when he continues to get migraines every now and again.”
“I don’t know,” Halsey says. “Surprisingly, we don’t talk about it. I don’t think any of us want to consider playing without Pacey in front of the goal.”
“Denial. I’ve spent time with it, and it’s nice until it’s not.”
“Yeah, I’ve had my fair share of time with denial,” Halsey says.
I can only imagine he’s referencing his brother, and since we’re being honest and getting to know each other, I decide to ask.
“You mean with your brother?”
He nods. “The stages of grief are a real thing. I lived in denial for a long time.”
“Would you say you’re at acceptance?” I ask.
He sets his fork down and sits back in his chair. He looks out toward the ocean, and to my surprise, he shakes his head. “No. I think I’m still at anger.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say.
His eyes return to mine. “Don’t apologize.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand. “There’s nothing to apologize about.”
“I just assumed you were at acceptance.”
“I would have assumed that too,” he says softly. “But I’m not going to lie to myself. There’s a lot I haven’t taken care of when it comes to the loss of my brother, and until I do, I can’t move on to the other stages.”
“I can always help you if you need the help.”
