Page 57 of Hockey 101

I stop running, put my hands on my knees, and take a breather. Lake Superior looks moody and mysterious with the light mist rising from the surface. But I’m too preoccupied to really appreciate the view.

I’ve never been attracted to someone this strongly. If we hadn’t been interrupted by that idiot Lloyd, we could have…

No, I can’t blame Lloyd for the abrupt way I left Jack’s bed, even as I could see I was disappointing him. Heck, all my body parts were protesting. Andy, we want to stay here. Why do I deny myself the things I want?

I shake out my limbs, then begin the run home. I find the idea of Jack a little scary. Not physically, of course. Despite his ability to smash large men into the boards, he is a gentle soul. The type of person to catch and release spiders. So, what exactly am I afraid of? Is it because Bryce unexpectedly breaking up with me hurt so much? Or is it because Jack feels like an even bigger risk to my poor heart?

Back on the steps of Humphrey Hall, I stretch and greet a few other early risers. I feel better after my run, less frantic and confused. I’m just going to relax and not overanalyze everything.

After breakfast, I get dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt, then open my sweater drawer. I grab for my favourite grey sweater, then stop. There’s a soft red sweater that I haven’t worn for a while. Red usually feels like too much of a look-at-me colour, but it seems right for today.

I brush my hair and remember Jack’s fascination with my hair loosened. In the mirror, I do look wilder, freer, with my hair down. Is this what Jack finds sexy? So, instead of putting my hair into a bun, I dig out a couple of silver combs and arrange them in my hair. Now my hair is off my face, but still loose. I’m not usually someone who dresses for a guy, but Jack is so sweetly appreciative.

I pirouette in front of my full-length mirror. Maybe the differences are subtle, but I like them.

By the time Jack messages me to let me know he’s on his way, I’m full of anticipation—the perfect mood for a date. I grab my coat and purse and skip down to wait for him outside.

He pulls up in his truck and reaches across to open the passenger-side door.

Hey, I would have come up to get you, says the gentlemanly Jack. He flashes me his sunshine smile, and I beam back.

It’s okay. I’ve been up for hours, so I was all ready, I explain.

Not me. I was still asleep half an hour ago. Apparently, Jack wakes up looking like a North Face model in his puffer jacket and khaki pants. Have I ever gone on a date with anyone this attractive? The answer takes all of a nanosecond to figure out: not even close.

He drives expertly, with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the console between us.

Did you stay late at the party? I ask.

Nah, I went straight to bed after I took you home. He smiles over at me. It wouldn’t have been any fun once you were gone anyway.

I’m not used to these honest confessions of affection. Maybe because Bryce was the king of withholding emotion. Or maybe because I’m not trusting enough.

I sigh. I’m sorry about last night.

Jack looks puzzled. Why? You didn’t do anything wrong.

In your room. I wanted to stay, but instead I left so abruptly.

He’s watching the road, but the corner of his mouth turns up. Oh, you wanted to stay?

Are we back to making me admit everything? I complain.

No, I’m just relieved. I was worried that I pressured you too much. He looks over at me for so long that I start to worry about road safety. You look so pretty today. I’ve never seen you wear your hair like that.

Jack’s sweetness is disarming. I’m going to turn off my anxiety brain and enjoy our time together. He’s gone to the trouble of planning a big date on one of his few free days, so the least I can do is be fully present.

I wore my hair this way for you, I admit.

Really? Jack’s smile widens. He reaches over the wide console and squeezes my hand. His hand is warm, calloused, and comforting.

I nod and smooth my hair. So, where are we going?

It’s a surprise. Jack’s open expression is now smug.

I hope it’s a good surprise, I grumble.

What would be a bad surprise?

---