Page 46 of Married to Number 22
Just thinking those words eases the hold on my lungs, fills in that gap deep in my heart. I can do things differently from here on out.
“I remember this day,” I say, pointing to a shot of us sitting at a table in the rink with our textbooks open, a pair of hot chocolates in front of us.
“Yeah,” she murmurs, stroking a finger over our smiling faces. “That day was the first time I kissed you.”
I feel my cheeks heat, thinking about her taking my hand, drawing me around to a shadowy corner of the rink, and surprising me—like usual—with a kiss. “I wasn’t very good at it, was I?” I say, lifting her hand and pressing my lips to her palm.
“I don’t think either of us were.” She sighs then rests her head on my shoulder. “Though, I’m happy to say I think we got better at it.”
“Alotbetter,” I agree. Then, even though I hate to, I gently tug us back into the future. “So, you found this and the contract was inside?”
A long pause. Then she nods without lifting her head. “Yeah. I found the paper, the notes, our pictures…and I was just so lonely.” A shaky breath. “And admittedly desperate because time was running out and I’d lose my chance at Grams’s shares, at fulfilling all those dreams for Smythe. But was I really just going to go out and marry a stranger?”
I don’t like that.
Not at fucking all.
Though, before I can say something stupid—like no fucking way are you going to be with someone else—she keeps talking.
“Then I saw a highlight of a Grizzlies game, couldn’t believe it wasyouon the screen, that you were close after all this time, back here in California, same as me.” She lifts her head, mouth gently curved. “And I remembered the time in the rink, the kisses, the boy you were. So…I admit that I did some unscrupulous things to track down your address?—”
My eyebrows fly up and I make a mental note to get her to expand on that later.
Right now, there are more important things to focus on.
“I drank a little wine for courage, picked up that cupcake, and came to your house.”
I hold my breath.
“And you wereyou,” she murmurs. “My Aiden of old, except all grown up. Beautiful, sweet, and still with that yummy ass?—”
My laughter bursts out of me.
Then I sober when she touches my cheek. “And I knew if I told you everything you’d find a way to fix it. But I also knew within a few minutes with you that I couldn’t ask that of you. Jesus, Aiden.” She groans, shoves a hand through her hair. “You’re living your dream! You made it to the NHL. Youfreakingdid it. And what the hell am I doing? Popping back into your life, trailing bullshit in my wake.”
“You’re right,” I say.
Her head flies up, eyes going wide.
Hurt dancing through the gray depths.
I cup her cheek.
Press my lips to her forehead, feeling my next words with absolutely certainty.
“Because Iamgoing to fix it, Luns.”
“Wh-what?”
“We’re getting married, sweetheart.”
Eighteen
Luna
I stareat my reflection in the mirror, panic bubbling beneath the surface.
It’s been three days since I confessed everything to Aiden and I’ve barely stopped to think.
