Page 2 of From Ice to Home
Declan shrugs, tucking the napkin into his pocket with mock casualness. “Can’t let it go to waste, brother.”
EJ shakes his head, smirking. “I bet he’s got a whole drawer full of those.”
“Nah,” Declan says, taking a sip of his beer. “That would be stupid. What if my house burns down? They’re all saved on my phone. For emergencies.”
The guys’ laughter fills the air, and I can’t help but chuckle along with them. I’ve got everything I ever prayed for—a successful career, a team I’d do anything for, and the chance to play the game I love at the highest level. But in moments like this, surrounded by noise and celebration, I can’t ignore the feeling that something is missing.
I’ve felt that way ever since I left home. It might be the small-town life, the salty South Carolina air that’s so easy to breathe in, the family farm and the responsibilities waiting for me…or it might be someone.
Leaning back in my chair, gripping the bottle of water in my hand, I glance at the napkin in Declan’s pocket. What’s written on that napkin is not what I’m missing, I know that. I couldn’t care less about the offers or the attention women so easily offer someone in my position.
What I’m missing is deeper—something I can’t find on a scoreboard or in the cheers of a crowd. Something I once thought I’d have by now.
Maybe it’s time to stop trying to fill the silence with distractions and let God lead me to the answer.
PROLOGUE
HANNAH
“We’d love for you to join us after graduation.” The voice of the hiring director is warm and filled with excitement that matches my own in spades. “You were one of the candidates that stood out the most during the interviews and you’d be an asset to our team.”
My grip tightens on the phone, the grin on my face stretching so much, my cheeks start to ache. “Thank you so much. I’m honored.”
“Great. We’ll send your all the necessary documentation and information. Welcome aboard, Ms. Sanders.”
The call ends and I let out a shaky breath. This is it—five years of hard work, prayer and dedication has finally paid off. A job at one of the best practices in Durham, one I’ve had my eye on since Sophomore year. Now, I’ll get to keep this apartment too. It’s an amazing place with a great view and I’ve already made so many changes to it, it would’ve been hard to let go of it.
“Well?” Mona asks, her voice cutting through my thoughts. She’s sitting on the couch with Liz, both of them staring at mewith expectant expressions on their faces. “Did they love you as much as we do?”
“I’m not sure if it’sthatmuch,” I say with a laugh. “But they offered me a job.”
They erupt in cheers, Liz tossing a pillow in the air. “That’s great, babe!” she says with a smile. “You’ve worked so hard for this.”
“I know,” I say with a sigh, grabbing my cup of tea before leaning back on the couch, tucking my legs beneath me. “I’m just so grateful.”
There’s a sense of pride swelling in my chest thinking about the hours that went into getting here. The classes, unpaid internships and workshops that bled into the weekends and holidays. Every decision I’ve made over the past five years has led to this moment. Leaving Georgetown, breaking up with Lucas, staying the course even when it was hard—it was all worth it. I can finally see the life I’ve been praying for, the one I’ve been building for myself.
The life God has planned for me.
“Well, now wehaveto celebrate,” Mona announces, nudging Liz who gives her a knowing look like they’ve rehearsed this a million times.
“Agreed,” Liz says, raising her cup of tea like a toast is about to happen. “And you know, nothing says celebration quite like Vegas.”
I groan, sinking deeper into the couch, cradling my own up. “We’ve talked about this. Do wereallyhave to do Vegas? What’s wrong with Napa?”
“What’s wrong wi—,” Mona says, nearly choking on her tea and looking at me like I just insulted her entire family. “You’re talking wine-tasting and we’re talking living itup.”
“It’s not even the same conversation,” Liz chimes in, her cup still in the air between us. “Come on, Hannah, this is graduation.Plus we now have your dream job to add to the list of things to celebrate.”
“I don’t know,” I say, swirling the tea in my cup. My instinct is to say no, but their excitement is contagious.
“Vegas baby,” Mona says with dramatic flair, lifting her mug to Liz’s. Both of them waiting for me to agree to their plan and to seal the deal with a toast.
I sigh, knowing resistance is futile. “Fine,” I say, leaning forward and raising my cup reluctantly. “Vegas baby.”
Mona squeals before clinking her cup against ours with enough enthusiasm for all three of us.
“We’ll work on your enthusiasm,” Mona says, with a grin. “But no worries—this is going to beepic.”
