He scrapes his lips near my earlobe. “Harlow, you’re making me create boundaries I didn’t even realize I’m capable of.”
“Perfect opposites then.”
We take in the sunset, but the sun might as well run away. It’s the feeling of Stone’s body wrapped around me like a blanket and his lips skimming my cheek to whisper sweet nothings in my ear that has me mesmerized in this moment.
It turns out that I might be lucky.
But nobody is that lucky.
I know.
14
STONE
And so it continues.
Stone,
Well, that was fast. It’s only been a few weeks and now I find myself on the way back to Lake Spark. To write, of course. How horrible of a liar am I? Hmm, I appreciate that you said I could bring my bikini for an afternoon at the Dizzy Duck Inn spa to go swimming and enjoy the jacuzzi, even though you said I don’t really need one since you can trace the tan lines of my bikini with your tongue. However, you are ever the gentleman to make the offer.
My hockey term this time is playmaker. The player who is so fast, he can create chances for a win because he reads the room (okay, ice). There is more chance of a win if he sets up another player for success.
Are you proud of me?
I can’t help wondering if you are our playmaker. Are you trying to create a chance for us to get a goal that we both want? Even if I’m shaky on the idea that it’s possible?
Yeah, I’ll leave you with that.
Okay, see you soon!
Harlow
My fingers trailover my phone screen, outlining the email that I’ve already read a few times. I can feel my mouth slant to the side in an uneven smirk, only to be distracted when a hand begins to wave in front of my face.
“Uhm, earth to Stone. You’re supposed to be catching up with your brother while we enjoy the fireplace under a dead moose,” my brother Vaughn reminds me.
My eyes tip up, and I give him a smile. We’re sitting in the lounge area of the Dizzy Duck Inn. He has exactly two days free before he is on the road again. He and Isla are using the opportunity for wedding planning since they got engaged at Christmas, and after the cake testing, Isla ditched him for a massage. We both quickly glance at Nora, my niece, sleeping in her stroller, before Vaughn and I focus on one another again.
“Sorry, I'm a little distracted,” I admit.
“Harlow?” He looks at me, amused. I’ve always kept him up to date. We’re close, even when his schedule is chaotic.
I growl to myself. “You know the answer.”
“Don’t you think at some point you both need to address that you’re basically in a relationship with one another? I mean, you’ve now seen each other more than a few times. You’re turning into a couple that travels distances to see one another.”
I sigh, as he’s saying my thoughts out loud. “Trust me, I think we both realize the obvious, but we’re choosing not to confront it.”
“Have you hit the ice lately? That normally clears your head.”
That and writing. About every two weeks, I skate or help out at the training facility nearby, just to remember the good old times.
“Yeah, and speaking of which, how is that going for you, Mr. General Manager of the Spinners? Heard you had to trade Murphy.”
Vaughn scoffs. “He threw a chair at me. That’s how that went,” he answers mundanely. “Don’t change the topic. I need to meet Harlow.”
My lips roll in, and that idea actually feels good. “Maybe. You’re doing Sunday brunch before you fly in the evening?” He nods, and I give him a little fist pump in the air. “Yay, you know how I love burnt eggs, because apparently you and your fiancée are the couple that manage to do that,” I tease him.
