Nodding, I lean forward and rest my elbow on my knee. “For sure. I’ll try to get a hold of him as soon as I can.”
“Try calling his assistant and getting her to put you on his schedule,” Ollie suggests. “Her name is Anna and she’s awesome.”
“You only say that because you have a low-key crush on her.” Dixon chortles, nudging Ollie in the ribs.
“So what? Shut up,” Ollie says, taking a play swipe at Dixon. There’s another juggle of the phone, and soon Henry’s back and solo. With a huge grin on his face.
“That went well, huh?”
“You tricked me.”
“I feel like it was a ‘let’s rip the Band-Aid off’ situation.”
“You’re right,” I say with a shrug. “And I’m glad I did it. Thank you.”
“Of course. And I mean it about the spare bedroom. It’s yours. You don’t need to try to find a place or get a hotel. Just come stay here while we get you acclimated again, okay?”
“Thanks, Henry. I mean it.”
“I know you’d do the same for me.”
He’s right.
We disconnect and I sit on the bench, watching as the local men’s team hits the ice to do a few drills. Seeing them as they laugh and joke while they work together on drills as they warm up reminds me of the guys on the Renegades. I’m grateful for their forgiveness, and I know that just because they were easy on me today doesn’t mean they’ll be easy on me when I’m back. And I deserve what they’re going to dish out, but I’ll take it. Because it’s family.
I’m filled with a feeling of hope and excitement for the first time in a very long time. Scanning the arena, I watch a few women climb into the stands, probably the wives or girlfriends of some of the players here to cheer them on. To be supportive.I want that. I want to look up into the stands and see someone there, cheering me on, reminding me I have someone on my side.
There’s only one person I can see being that person to me. Grabbing my phone again, I grin. The one I want to talk to and share what just happened with, the one who I hope to see sitting in the stands for me, one day…I know she’s out there.
My heart ridiculously full, I text Riley to see if she’s home.
FOURTEEN
Riley
The late afternoon sun spills onto the floor of my apartment. I’ve spent the day cleaning—it’s a nervous habit but a good one. It’s the day before my dinner and there’s nothing left for me to do except wait.
I’m about to sit down when I notice a pile of leaves on my balcony. Rolling my eyes, I know I need to get rid of it now or it'll make me crazy. Sliding open the patio door, I grab the leaf blower from the corner where it lives and turn it on, swinging it around and pushing the leaves over the edge. Peering over the side, I watch as they float down to the ground below.
“Hey!” a voice cries out, surprised. My downstairs neighbor suddenly appears, hands on her hips. “I just swept that up.”
“Sorry, Mildred,” I call out. “I’ll make it up to you and drop off some croissants for you and Ted later, is that okay?”
She scowls at me for a moment longer before finally nodding her head. I found out in the first few days of living here that the best way to her heart is through her stomach. Hey, if it keeps the peace, I’ll keep baking.
“Fine,” she snaps. “But you know, you’ve been loud up there today, all that banging around and the sound of furniturescraping the floor. I’d like to have six chocolate and cinnamon this time and six strawberries and cream cheese.”
“You’ve got a deal,” I sing out as she disappears from sight. Love that she’s mad because I was cleaning and trying to move furniture around. The things I do. What a people pleaser.
The knock on my door pulls my attention away from the neighbor. I smooth my hair back, stopping to check myself in the mirror before I open the door. Ever since he texted he wanted to come over, Jake has been starring in my thoughts.
When I open the door, he’s already smiling. His big, perfect smile drips with a sexy ease and engulfs his whole face, smooth skin wrinkling at the corners, showing how deep his pleasure runs. How anyone can think that he’s this broody, angry guy is becoming foreign to me, because all I see is the sugary sweet man who’s stuck inside this muscled, ridiculously fit, hot body.
“Hi,” I manage as I step back and invite him in. As soon as he crosses the threshold, he unzips his hoodie and tosses it on one of my chairs, then turns around. His T-shirt fits his chest like a snug glove, accentuating every contour and muscle beneath the fabric. His tattoos are on full display, and the urge to trace them with my fingertips fires itself up in my belly again.
Jake leans in and presses his lips to my cheek, lingering there for a moment so I get a waft of clean sheets and a heady hit of sandalwood yet again, and it takes my breath away. This man smells GOOD.
“Hey. How’s your day?” he asks, and I melt.He’s asking me about my day?
