Page 6 of From Ice to Home
For some it might not seem like much, but to a team who has just played eighty-two games in their regular season, and fourteen in the postseason…it was an opportunity none of us could turn down. The guys were more than willing to sit through the entire flight, listening to Harry Matlock explain the rules, if it meant we could take a break from everything.
Right now, while sitting in a quiet restaurant, I’m convinced God had his hand in this little fluke of a getaway. Because I’m staring at a waterfall of golden hair cascading down a backless white cocktail dress. A flood of memories hit me, overwhelming my senses. The smell of the ocean, her laughing beside me in my truck as we drive with the windows down, and the feel of her warm hand in mine.
When she turns, her familiar green eyes and breathtaking smile hit me in the chest like an arrow. And for the life of me, I can’t fathom how I ever let her go.
Hannah Sanders.
I haven’t seen her in five years, and she’s even more beautiful than I remember. The last time I saw her, her eyes were filled with tears as she tore herself from my arms. Despite the feelings inside, despite what I wanted, I let her go. I got in my truck and drove away. We haven’t spoken a single word since no matter how hard I tried to reach her.
Seeing her sitting in a restaurant in Las Vegas seems wrong in so many ways. She’s the pastor’s daughter, someone who takes her plans for the future very seriously. This isn’t the kind of place I ever pictured her in. Yet she’s here, owning the entire room. The white cocktail dress suits her perfectly, and in some way, it screamsHannah.
Angel.
Innocence.
Beautiful.
Unattainable.
A waiter steps up to her table, a tray of neon red cocktails in hand and I can’t help but wonder if she ordered it. Hannah doesn’t drink. Especially not drinks that glow. Sure we werestill High School kids back then, but she only ever looked forward to drinking champagne one day.
I suppose a lot can change in five years.
Following her and her friends’ gaze toward the bar, it’s clear that they didn’t order the drinks. A flash of jealousy stirs inside of me when I spot the idiot in a suit. I try to shake it off, but it sticks even if it has no right to. She’s not mine. She hasn’t been mine for a long time. She left me behind when she went to Duke University, insisting that I should follow my own dreams and forget about her.
Only I’ve never been able to.
How could anybody forget about her.
God knows, I’ve tried to move on with my life. I even tried dating once or twice, but my heart was never in it. I knew I should just give up, since it’s not fair to anybody that I’m comparing every single girl to the one who got away.
“What are you staring at, bro?” Declan asks, slapping me on the shoulder and drawing me back down to earth.
He’s my defenseman, and he plays like a guy with nothing to lose, but I know better. He cares more than he lets on. About the game, about us, about the people who matter. He just hides it behind all the chirping and the chaos.
He follows my gaze toward where Hannah is sitting with her friend, while the third woman gets up to go to the bar. “Why didn’t you just say so?” he asks, taking a step in Hannah’s direction, his signature smile already on his face.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask, pulling him back with a bit more force than necessary. I have no idea how I want to handle this situation, but I know I don’t want Declan to be the one to talk to Hannah.
“I’m going to talk to the pretty lady,” he says with a sly smile.
“You better not be talking about Hannah.” The tone in my voice surprises even me.
“So you know her?” he asks, looking over his shoulder to where she’s sitting. “The brunette that looks like she could run a Fortune 500 company and break your heart in the same five minutes?”
I sigh with relief. “No, the other one. And besides, you have a girlfriend. The brunette is nothing to you.”
“First, she’s not my girlfriend. That’s too official,” he says, pointing at me. “And secondly, I was just thinking she’s perfect for EJ.”
“Sure, you did,” EJ says from beside me, clearly hearing the conversation now that he’s been pulled into it. “One of these days Megan is going to kick you to the curb.”
“She knows we’re not exclusive,” Declan says with a frown.
“So make it exclusive,” I tell him. “That shouldn’t even be a thing.”
EJ lets out a huff. “Yeah, like that’s going to happen.” He looks toward the table where Hannah is sitting, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “Which one is mine again?”
“The brunette,” Declan reminds him, clearly not thrilled about the turn of events.
