“Hey,” I call, feigning annoyance. In reality, I wouldn’t care if theyate every freaking slice. Because Adeline isn’t ignoring me anymore. And Avery is smiling.
It takes longer than I’d like to get through our bedtime routine. The kids are wired and Avery once again can’t get ahold of Tabitha. When we FaceTime my brother, he cheers her up by doing impressions of every animal known to man. I love him and he’s a great uncle, but I’m dying to talk to Adeline, and as the time ticks closer to ten, my chances dwindle. The woman’s bedtime routine is stricter than the kids’. I don’t blame her, since she gets up so early every morning, but I need to hear what she has to say. And maybe say a few things of my own.
LikeI’m sorry.What the hell happened between the two of us? How did we get here and how the hell do we fix it?
When Avery finally closes her eyes, I quietly tiptoe out of the room.
“Night, JJ,” one of the twins calls as I’m pulling the door closed.
I chuckle. Of course they’re still awake. “Night, boys.”
My pulse thumps as I head to Adeline’s bedroom. I pause outside the closed door and take in a couple of deep breaths. Then I knock. When there’s no response, my heart free falls. Dammit. She’s already asleep.
I rub my face, trying to fight off a wave of aggravation. The time I spend with Avery, giving her what she needs, is never wasted. I was where I needed to be. But it still stings that once again I’ve missed out on an opportunity with Adeline, small as it could have been, because my daughter needed me.
That will never change, though. I’ll never not pick Avery. She’ll always be the priority. Not that I think Adeline expects anything different.
It’s exactly what she pushed me to realize years ago. What she knew would happen the moment I met my daughter.
I stare at her door for a few more seconds, my shoulders slumping, then give up. There’s always tomorrow.
As I reach my bedroom door, a little blue sticky note snags my attention. And when I recognize the writing on it, my mood lifts.
Meet me on the roof—A
It’s probably really bad that my heart trips over itself over a little note. I shouldn’t feel this way. Shouldn’t allow this hope to grow. Shouldn’t get so excited about having even a few minutes with the one woman I’ve never stopped thinking about.
But for years, I lived for our moments. Sometimes I think maybe that’s why I loved hockey so much. Because during the season, we saw each other just about every damn day. Summer was brutal. She traveled with her family. I traveled with mine. After we graduated, those moments became even more infrequent. But our talks continued.
I could spend hours on the phone with her, talking about absolutely nothing. Sometimes just listening to her breathe was enough for me.
Hands fisted, I remind myself not to run as I take the steps up to the roof.
The rooftop is just as impressive as the rest of the house, with a canopy of twinkling lights over several outdoor couches. The oversized fireplace is lit, and Adeline sits on the edge of it, eyes on the sky, like she’s making a wish. For a moment I just stare at her. At the woman who’s owned me for at least half my life.
I wish I hadn’t wasted so many years trying to fight my feelings for her. Wish I hadn’t been so scared to ruin our friendship. Fucking happened anyway. Dating other women only taught me that she was the only one I wanted. I should have told her that sooner. Should have risked it all before I got drafted and found myself a world away from her while she continued her own life in college.
I’d give anything to change our story. Or at least the ending. Maybe there’s still a chance I can. Maybe we’re not over.
She’s in an oversized Bolts sweatshirt that falls off one shoulder, exposing her smooth skin, her tiny sleep shorts dotted with little stars. Her long hair is down, the soft breeze blowing several strands into her face. She runs her hands through it, pushing it back again. That’s when she spots me, a tentative smile hitting her lips as she waves me over.
I consider the setup. A bottle of Hanson whiskey. Nice touch. And two tumblers. “You mean business, huh?” I tease.
She grins. “Well, this is about our careers, right?”
A pit opens up in my gut. Right. This is about work.
I temper my expectations and settle on the hearth beside her.
Adeline reaches for one of the glasses, and when she wraps her hand around it, she winces.
“Still hurt?”
She shakes her head. “I’ll be fine. Just need a little medicine.” She dangles the whiskey bottle between her fingers.
“Allow me,” I say, taking it from her.
Rather than opening it, I reach for her hand. “Can I see?”
