“She’s here,” I say without explanation.
He nods, as if he was totally expecting this.
“That’s it? Just a nod?”
“You’re a grown man who can make your own decisions. I’m assuming there’s a reason you invited her.”
“I didn’t. She was standing along the rail before warm-ups, handed me a piece of paper with her number. I don’t know what that means.”
He arches a brow. “It means…she wants you to call her.”
“But I asked her if she wanted to go out sometime and she said no!”
The bastard actually laughs. “Do you know women? I mean, at all?”
“Fuck you,” I mumble, leaning against the lockers.
“Chloe is the love of my life, I would do anything for that woman—but do you know how often she changes her mind?” He shakes his head. “I want a blueberry muffin—no, wait! Poppyseed. I’m going to wear the red dress on Saturday. Then she comes out wearing a blue one. And she’s not the first woman I’ve dated like this.”
“Yeah, but that’s tame stuff. This is bigger. Don’t you think?”
“Maybe she left her hair tie in your car and wants it back. Maybe she’s mad about something she still wants to get off her chest. Or maybe, you caught her off-guard and now that she’s had time to think about it, she just changed her mind.”
I sigh heavily.
I’m not good at this shit.
I’ve dated a lot of women in the last four years, but I haven’t been in any kind of relationship. In the beginning, I missed Victoria so much it was hard to breathe. Then it morphed into survival mode, showing up to the arena every day determined to make my way back to the Knights. Now I’m just…treading water.
Unsure what I want in life beyond hockey.
“You’ve been trying to figure out your next steps for the last year,” he says, as if reading my mind. “Maybe there really is unfinished business with her. They make a lot of jokes about your first love, but some of those relationships are more intense than others. Mine was not—high school love that fizzled out. Yours was different. So go see what it is you’re still holding on to.”
“You don’t think it’s a mistake?”
“Oh, I absolutely do,” he says, chuckling. “But you’re your own man and you have to make your own mistakes. Just try not to blow up your life this time.”
“There will be no blowing up my life,” I say firmly, pulling on my shirt. “Under no circumstances am I blowing up anything.”
I don’t feel nearly as convinced as I sound but he’s right that the situation with Victoria feels unfinished. No matter how hard I try to put her out of my mind, it doesn’t work. Apparently, not for her either.
Yanking out my phone, I type out her number.
954-555-0001.
Then I send her a text.
JORDAN: Are you still at the arena?
Chapter 8
Victoria
When my boss offered me her tickets to the Knights game, it was like karma smacking me in the face. I walked away even though I didn’t want to, and as a result, I couldn’t sleep or eat for a week. He’s all I’ve thought about, so when the opportunity to see him again arose, there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to ignore it.
Handing him that piece of paper was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I was somewhat worried he would just ball it up and drop it on the floor right in front of me, but Jordan isn’t like that. He might do it as soon as he got back to the locker room but not in public where everyone would see. It makes him look callous and me look like a fool, and somehow, despite our history, the guy who saved me from getting assaulted wouldn’t do something to humiliate me.
Still, I’m surprised when I see his text as Ivy and I are leaving the arena. My sister was the only person available to go with me on short notice, and even though my mom gave us the side-eye when we told her where we were going, she has no idea Jordan and I have been in touch.
