Page 52 of Pucking My Grumpy Roommate
“My point is that Stone ‘Ice Veins’ Callahan just said he’s ‘seeing someone.’ Like, publicly. To a hot, willing woman.” He clutched his chest dramatically. “I need to document this historic moment.”
“Remind me why I still talk to you.”
“You’re completely whipped,” Dennis continued, shaking his head in wonder. “And you don’t even seem pissed about it. It’s fascinating, like watching a lion become a housecat.”
“You done?”
“Not even close.” Dennis took a long pull of his beer. “But seriously, this is good. I haven’t seen you this invested in someone since...well, ever.”
I rotated my glass slowly, watching the condensation create patterns on the table. “That’s the problem.”
“How is having feelings for a smart, hot scientist who apparently rocks your world a problem? Most guys would consider that winning the fucking lottery.”
“I’m about to go back on the road, Dennis. Ten days at a time sometimes. What if—” I stopped, the fear I’d been avoiding suddenly crystallizing.
“What if she decides it’s not worth it?” Dennis finished for me, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “What if she moves on while you’re gone?”
I nodded, hating how vulnerable it made me feel.
“Look, Stone, I’ve seen you take hits that would’ve hospitalized normal humans, then get up and finish the game. You’ve played through broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and God knows what else. But you’re sitting here terrified because you might have to put some effort into a long-distance relationship?”
“It’s different,” I argued. “On the ice, it’s all in my control. This isn’t.”
“Relationships never are, you fucking idiot.” Dennis sighed. “That’s what makes them worth it. You can’t control Kate or how she feels. You can only control what you do about it.”
His unexpected wisdom hit harder than any check I’d taken on the ice.
“When did you get so insightful about relationships?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“I’ve had plenty. You’ve had...” He counted exaggeratedly on his fingers, “basically none. Sleeping with someone for three weeks doesn’t count as a relationship, Stone.”
He wasn’t wrong. My entire adult life had been structured around hockey—scheduled, predictable, controlled. Relationships were messy, unpredictable, filled with variables I couldn’t account for.
Kind of like Kate herself.
“So what do I do?” I found myself asking.
Dennis clasped his hands like a wise old sage. “You talk to her, dumbass. You tell her what you’re worried about. And then—here’s the revolutionary part—you listen to what she says. You’re practically fucking pasteurized.”
“Says the guy who’s never dated someone longer than a playoff run.”
“Touché.” He raised his glass in a mock toast. “So, you gonna tell her tonight about the two-week timeline?”
I pocketed my phone, decision made. “Tonight.”
“And if she’s not into the whole long-distance thing?”
“Then at least I’ll know.” I stood up, tossing some cash on the table for my club soda. “I’ve gotta go.”
“To have deep, meaningful conversation?” Dennis waggled his eyebrows.
“Something like that.”
“Use protection during your ‘conversation’!” he called after me, loud enough that several nearby tables turned to stare.
I flipped him off without looking back, but couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips. For all his obnoxious qualities, Dennis had managed to cut through my bullshit in record time.
CHAPTER 13
