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“Why are you calling me that?”

“Because you’re short.” He said that like it was the first time I’d realized I was vertically challenged.

“Well, shouldn’t you reserve nicknames for your friends?”

“You dry-humped me in a photo booth. I don’t think you get any friendlier than that.” His smirk was just too damn…smug.

“And I can assure you it won’t happen again,” I told him haughtily.

“Somehow I doubt that.”

I started to turn away from him when he stopped me again. “You haven’t asked for my name yet, Shortcake.”

Ugh. Again with the damn nickname. This guy apparently couldn’t take a fucking hint.

“That’s because I don’t care about…”

He cut me off by crushing his mouth against mine. I gasped, totally shocked by how rude this guy was. I leaned into him just as he pulled away, and he caught me when I swayed. What was a girl supposed to do? The guy could kiss the lips off a mannequin.

His grin was cocky, and so very self-satisfied. “Vaughan,” he said, a little breathless himself. “My name is Vaughan King.”

The pen fell from my hand and hit the bed with a silent thud. I stared open-mouthed at the page in front of me, my eyes taking in the words on the page but not actually seeing. I flipped through my other journal entries, reading them one-by-one, putting the pieces together.

His green eyes held a question, and I knew I would never be able to deny him, even if doing this felt so incredibly wrong, it was right.

Angry green eyes looked down at me, filled with a plea.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his green eyes ablaze with desire and affection.

The face in every entry became clearer and clearer in my mind until…

“Oh my God,” I whispered. With my journal clutched firmly against my chest, I jumped off the bed and put some pumps on. I checked my phone for the time. Vaughan would still be at the rink.

It was going to take forever and a minute for a cab to show up, so I locked up and started running down the road. Fortunately, there was a cab driving past, and I hopped in, telling the driver to drop me off at the University’s recreation center. I lied and said it was an emergency just so that he would hurry up. My hands trembled when he finally came to a stop and I threw some change at him before taking off up the road. My feet pounded against the asphalt, but the louder noise of all was that of my racing heart. The answer had been right in front of me all along, and I felt stupid for not seeing it sooner.

I reached the front doors of the rec center, panting like I’d run a marathon instead of a quick sprint up the walkway, and all but jumped over the turnstiles. Security yelled at me, and I was sure they started chasing me but I was hellbent on finding Vaughan, come what may. I flew past the rink, nearly knocking a few figure skaters out of the way, and stumbled through the doors of the locker room. The team was having a meeting with my Dad, Vaughan, and Jackson at his side. They were getting ready for their first game in two days, so everyone was serious. Vaughan saw me and must have thought something was wrong when he saw my expression. But he was so very wrong because nothing had ever been more right.

I ran to him, grateful that the guys were moving out of my way and as soon as he was at arm’s length I launched myself at him and started crying.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sounding a little panicked. I shook my head, aware that I had an entire locker room full of ice hockey players - and my Dad and my brothers - watching me.

Did I care?

No.

I pulled away and Vaughan dropped me to my feet, his face lined with concern. All I could do was smile at him. I held the journal in my hands, and he looked down at it, his brows knitted in confusion. “What’s this?”

“It’s you and me,” I cried. “I didn’t see it immediately,” I swallowed and tried to compose myself but I’d just found out that… “I’ve been writing about you. You’re the man who’s been living in my journal.”

It still looked like Vaughan had no clue what I was saying, and I couldn’t blame him. I wasn’t exactly speaking coherently. So I tried again.

“My memories of you and me,” I held the journal out to him, “are on these pages. This is our story.”

He looked down and when he finally understood what I was saying his face lit up with the most brilliant smile. “You remember?” His voice cracked.

I nodded and cried a little more. “Not everything but I remember you and me and how we met and…” Vaughan wrapped his arms around me and lifted me up, holding me as close as possible. Murmurs broke out around me, and when Jackson figured out what had happened, he started yelling. Eventually, everyone joined in, but I wasn’t paying much attention to anyone other than Vaughan.

“I love you,” he whispered. “So much.”

I knew if I looked at him, I’d just cry harder, so I kept my head tucked into his neck.

“I love you too.” And I did. I always had.

“You came back to me, Shortcake. You came back to me.”

The End xx