I shrug. “Not the first time we’re starting the season in Vegas.”
It brings back memories of my very first game. Of everything that happened that night. An impulsive decision to get married to Harper.
I guess some things weren’t meant to last.
“I’m ready for the season to start,” Dax tells me. “I hate the waiting.”
I clap him on the shoulder. “I know. First game will be here before you know it.”
Someone pops their head into the locker room. “Yo, Marcus. Someone’s at the front office needing to see you.”
I drape my towel around my neck and lean back into my locker. “Who is it?”
The security officer shrugs a shoulder. “She wouldn’t tell me much. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Looks like she wants to chop your balls off.”
What the fuck?
The only person I can think of that would want to, in his words, chop my balls off, would be Harper. But why the hell would she be here?
“Did she say what she wanted?”
He shakes his head before leaving the locker room.
Never in a million years did I think Harper would be here at the rink. Now? Now I want to see her again.
I never thought I’d get to see her, but now I want to.
One glimpse and I want more. I don’t know how I made it through these last seven years without her.
“Who’s here to see you?” Noah asks, taking a seat beside me.
“Old flame.”
“Old flame?” He raises an eyebrow at me. “I didn’t know you had any flames.”
“It’s Marcus,” Graham chimes in from Noah’s other side. “He’s never shown interest in anyone.”
Noah snorts at his remark and I flip both of them off before throwing my towel at them. “Assholes.”
“This will be my second full year here, Cap, and I’ve never heard you mention a woman.”
There’s a reason for that. I’ve always been tight-lipped about my personal life. I don’t want sympathy from people. They know about the girls, but that’s about it. I don’t talk about my sister, brother-in-law, or my dad passing away.
And the last thing I’m willing to do is tell them that I walked out on my wife.
Yeah, not a conversation I’m willing to have.
“Sue us if we’re curious,” Noah agrees. “You’re allowed to have a life.”
“I’ll see you two later.” I grab the hoodie in my locker and slide into my sandals before heading toward the front office of the rink.
I shouldn’t be excited to see Harper, but I am. Butterflies flutter low in my belly at the thought of seeing her.
I still remember the last time I saw her back then. I was leaving for an away game. She was wearing one of my T-shirts, sitting on the counter of our small kitchen watching as I scarfed down a quick dinner before the flight.
Her hair was piled on top of her head, and her bare legs made it hard to leave. Everything about Harper called to me. She was like a siren, pulling a weary sailor into shore.
I didn’t want to leave her.
