Page 1 of Make Your Shot
CHAPTER ONE
CALEB
My lungs constrict, emotion spilling into my veins as a heavy sorrow settles inside my chest. Standing outside of the arena, I stare at the building before my eyes look past it. Our preseason games are in a few weeks and this will be the sixth season without her here with me.
I stare at the moon until it becomes blurry. My eyelids fall shut and I inhale deeply, breathing in the scent of the wet, rain laden pavement beneath my feet. I imagine the warmth of her hand, sliding into mine, fingers weaving through the empty spaces. The scent of the floral perfume she used to wear, lacing with the smell of rain.
“What are you doing?”
I pinch my eyelids shut, hanging on to the fading memory of her, hoping that if I ignore him long enough, Rowan will disappear. He’s silent and I let my mind drift back to her. Back to my late wife.
The last five years have felt like a time warp withoutAmelia. At times, it feels like it’s been an eternity since I lost her and others, it feels like I blinked at her funeral and now it’s years later.
“Caleb.” Rowan’s voice is a bit softer. “Are you okay?”
The thought of her hand in mine begins to dissipate and I slowly peel my eyes open, turning my head slightly to the side as I stare at our goalie. “I’m fine,” I tell him, clearing my throat.
I think she would be proud of me. Proud of Estella. It’s been challenging without her—raising our daughter alone—but I know I wouldn’t have been able to do it without the support system I have in place.
And Rowan Taylor just so happens to be part of that support system.
“Your brother said that Estella is staying at his house tonight.” He tilts his head to the side, his hair falling across his forehead. “Do you have any plans tonight?”
Biting on the inside of my cheek, I shake my head from side to side. “I just planned on going home.”
I’m a widower. A professional hockey player. A single dad. My time is either spent on the ice or with Tella. I don’t have time to reacquaint myself with the world outside of the safe little bubble I live in. I wouldn’t even know where to start, if that were something I wanted to do.
“Why don’t you come over?” he offers, an eager smile on his lips.
“I don’t know, man,” I start, my voice dropping as I shake my head and run my fingers through my locks.
“Come on,” Rowan persists, urging me. “Just come hang out for a little bit.”
I stare at him for a moment, pursing my lips. It’s a tempting offer. I’ve become comfortable with my own company and just settling into the silence, but there are times where it’s lonely. Sometimes, I’ll go out to the bar by myself, but I usually never stay for more than one drink.
“Okay, fine.”
Rowan’s eyes widen. “Really? That was easier than I thought it would be.” He pulls out his phone, tapping on the screen. “Carson owes me fifty bucks now.”
I roll my eyes at him and snort. I’m not surprised, My brother Carson and him are always betting on stupid shit. “I’ll meet you at your place,” I tell him, nodding my head before turning my back on the arena and Rowan.
I head over to the car, slipping behind the driver’s wheel as I look back at the arena once more. Emotion wells inside my throat and I swallow hard over the lump. The image of the last time I was here with her—Amelia sitting in the passenger’s side floods my mind.
Midnight colored hair falling down her back as she tipped her head back. Her lips spread wide open, the sound of her laughter filling the car.
“What are you laughing at?” I questioned, my voice light as I tilted my head to the side, absolutely mesmerized by her.
“I’m sorry, baby,” she said, reaching for my hand as she regained herself. Her warmth wrapped around me, seeping through my pores as she gave me a gentle squeeze. “Sometimes you are just too serious.”
My eyebrows pulled together. “No I’m not,” I argued.
“Caleb Ford, yes you are,” she half scolded me before her words turned to laughter again. “You almost backed your car into Lincoln and you didn’t even laugh about it.”
I stared at her with a look that questioned her sanity. “What part of hitting someone with my car is funny?”
“You didn’t hit him,” she pointed out, shaking her head at me. “It’s just the chain of events and the way you didn’t even crack a smile. You just apologized and waved it off like nothing happened.”
The corners of my mouth twitched. Not from the situation, but from the amused look on Amelia’s face. “Should I have done something differently?”
