I drop my jaw, feigning shock. “Are you kidding?”
“I’m trying not to get my hopes up about this one,” she says honestly. “I guess you can say I tend to keep my walls up. I’m still waiting to see if he proves to be one I can let in.”
“I promise, I’ll show you it’s safe to let your walls down with me.”
Her eyes get this distant look in them, like she’s struggling to hold her emotions together. She shakes it off quickly and smiles.
I’ve learned that Brinley tends to push away when the emotions get a bit much. I’ll give her a pass before I press any further.
“What do you want to do after school?” I ask.
She exhales. “Now that’s a big question.”
“You don’t know?”
“I mean, I didn’t,” she says. “For a long time. But now…”
“And now?”
She shrugs again. “I’ve been thinking about working with kids.”
“Like teaching?”
“Maybe. Or something like social work, possibly. Working with community programs, helping people who actually need it. I don’t know.”
I nod. “I think you’d be great with kids.”
“You don’t know that, though.”
“Yes, I do,” I say, with more conviction than maybe I intended. She studies me like she’s trying to figure out if I’m being honest.
“My mom did the best she could raising me,” she says after a few seconds. “But it was hard. Moving around a lot, different schools. I don’t want that for someone else. Not if I can help it, you know?”
“That’s why I think you’d be good with kids,” I say. “You’d be able to relate to them. You’d listen.”
She looks at me for a second longer, then shakes her head slightly.
“I don’t want to talk about that anymore,” she says. “What about you? What would you be doing if it wasn’t for hockey?”
I laugh softly. “I don’t know. Probably something boring.”
“Like what?”
“Helping my dad with the farm, I guess.”
She tilts her head slightly. “I know you like the animals, but would you actually want to do that as a job?”
I shake my head. “Not really. It’s not what would make me happy, that’s for sure.”
My phone vibrates again. This time with a flood of messages coming through, followed by a phone call.
“Wow, you’re popular tonight.” She chuckles.
“It’s just the guys. Ignore them.”
The phone buzzes again. I push off the headboard and move to the edge of the bed, feet planted on the floor now.
Before I can tell her to hold on while I answer it, Owen comes busting through the door.
