Chloe catches my eye as she slips into the room, wearing the blue dress. Just like Barcelona. This girl kills me in blue. Her hair tumbles in a half do over her shoulders, and the music swells as she leans back against the doors, like a dream I didn’t know I was having.
A dream I didn’t know I wanted so badly.
But I want this. I want a future with her. I want to look out over the ice and see her wearing my number. I want Friday nights curled up on the couch, talking about anything and nothing. Saturday mornings at Brew & Rumor, watching her sketch out another story and bring it to life. I want us.
And I think she wants that too.
So tonight, when the contract ends, before she can break it off with me like she’s supposed to, I’ll whisk her away. Find a way to pull her aside, like our first kiss under the orange trees, and tell her how I feel.This stopped being fake for me. I’m in love with you. The contract says you’re supposed to break upwith me tonight, but what if we don’t? What if we tear up that clause and make this real instead?
It’s not public yet. No one knows about the contract except me, Chloe, and Rick. Okay, and maybe the Blue Ox team manager and Chloe’s bossy roommate, Jessa. But true love will save the day, and we’ll just change the terms. Mutually agree to void the staged breakup clause. Just…not do it. Stay together. Make it official. Make it real.
No harm, no foul. Everyone (especially us) lives happily ever after.
The thought makes my chest feel too small for my heart. I pull my gaze away, turning back toward the procession as Maya reaches the arch. Her father lifts her veil, kisses her cheek, shakes Derek’s hand. The moment is sweet, genuine, the kind of thing that makes even cynical hockey players believe in forever.
The officiant starts talking. Something about love and commitment and choosing each other every day. The words wash over me because even fifty feet apart, with three hundred people in between, I feel connected to her in a way I’ve never felt connected to anyone.
My phone trembles in my pocket.
I ignore it. Because I’m at a wedding, and checking your phone during the ceremony is the kind of thing that gets you dirty looks.
It vibrates again.
I glance again at Chloe. She’s still standing in the back of the room, focused on the ceremony.
More buzzing. A phone call this time, vibrating insistently against my leg.
Okay, okay.
I slip away from my spot near the side door, push out of the room, wait until I’m a good six feet from the door before pullingout my phone. Seven missed calls from Rick. Six texts, two from Conrad, who’s still sitting in the audience.
Rick
Call me NOW
Have you seen this? (Link attached)
We have a SERIOUS problem
Conrad
Answer your phone
You need to see this. It’s bad.
Rick
I’m not kidding Kane. Call me immediately.
My stomach drops. That feeling you get when you’re about to get checked into the boards and you see it coming but can’t avoid it.
I open the link Rick sent.
Minnesota Bridal Magazine. Posted three hours ago.
The Not-So-Perfect Wedding Date: When Hockey Romance Meets Cold Reality
By Jennifer Hartley
