Bree: They want me to start right away. Any chance I can stay with you until I find a place?
I stare at my screen, as if I misread her message. Or am I hoping she’ll send another text, telling me she’s joking?
But she doesn’t.
This, I did not see coming.
Do I want to see Bree? Hell, yeah. Do I want her living with me? Not sure. After a year of near silence, I honestly don’t know what to expect. Between Bree’s PR work with the Texas Stars and a boyfriend I’m not even sure exists, I don’t have a clue about anything going on in her life.
When she stopped answering my texts, I resorted to keeping up with her on social media. Funny thing is, I never saw any pictures of her with him. Just group shots with her friends on her personal private feed, and nothing but business on her professional profile. All of which I found somewhat strange.
What if she’s changed? I know I have to some degree. A year is a long time not to see or really talk to each other…
Wade: I thought they’d get a room for you at the Sandpiper Inn.
Bree: No room at the Inn (smiley face, Christmas tree)
Finally, the expected joke, but I’m not laughing. I’m still baffled as to why she ghosted me. We’ve never not communicated for that long. What if things are awkward or weird between us?
Even if they are, she’ll likely spend most of her time stuck in an office somewhere in the arena while I’m on the ice, practicing. And during games, I’ll be in the crease, focused on the game and doing my job. With my travel schedule, we won’t see much of each other.
And when we are together, we’ll pick up where we left off, like always.
Maybe…
I sit on the bench and plant my forehead on my fists, staring at the floor as I try to figure out what to say to her. We’re about a quarter of the way through the first half of the season, and so far, we’re ranking near the top. Focus will be key in carrying our winning streak through the rest of this half and into the second. A distracted goalie means shots on goal turn into points for the other team. Not good.
A pair of feet walks past me, then backtracks. “What’s up, Cowboy? Bad news?”
Water drips from his hair, landing on his shoulders, as Luke stares down at me with a puzzled expression.
Do I look messed up? She’s not even here yet, and I’m already losing my game face. “Nothing serious.”
His brows drop. “You sure? If you need help?—”
“I can handle it.” I force a smile, trying to convince myself and my team captain that this will work outjust fine,as my nanawould say. Suddenly, I’m missing her homemade chocolate chip cookies and the ranch with a fierce ache.
Maybe a touch of homesickness? I haven’t visited in over a year and, well, home and Bree are pretty synonymous in my mind. Like I said, she and I go way back. The Suttons used to own the property next to my family’s homestead in Texas. We grew up together, went to the same schools, and ran in the same friend circles. My younger sisters treated Bree like a big sister because she was almost the same age as me.
When I discovered my love for hockey and realized I could be good at it, some things changed, but that didn’t mean we didn’t stay close. Kind of like one big happy blended family, and I was the big brother.
Maybe seeing her again will be like a homecoming without horses. Or cookies. I can show her around Sarabella and help her get settled. Shouldn’t be too difficult.
I pick up my phone and tap out a reply.
Wade: Mi casa es su casa. When are you arriving? I’ll pick you up from the airport.
Bree: Thank you! I knew you’d have my back.
Wade: Always. Just send me your itinerary.
Bree: Is today too soon?
I think my eyebrows merged into my hairline. Bree always did have an impulsive side and still does, apparently. I scrub a hand down my face, mentally tallying what I need to do to get my one-bedroom apartment ready for her. I can take the couch, but I should change the sheets and clean up my room so she’ll feel comfortable.
Wade: Not a problem. Just tell me when to pick you up.
Bree: No need. I’m parked in the lot.
