Page 3 of Beauty
Who knew glasses were my personal kryptonite?
The guy is a sexy nerd, and I’m officially interested. What a perfect way to start my last hurrah.
Please let him sit next to me. Pretty freaking please.
TWO
NOAH
I’m pregnant,but I don’t expect anything from you.
Jen’s words echo in my head once again as I step onto the plane. Honestly, they’ve haunted me since she uttered them a month ago. She’s having my baby four weeks from now. Meaning she waited until she was seven months along to tell me. Why? Because she and her boyfriend, Ted, got back together and she didn’t know how to tell him that the baby isn’t his.
Now they’re getting married. He’s all-in. He works a steady nine-to-five. He doesn’t spend more days on the road than at home ten months out of the year. They love each other andhe’sready for fatherhood.
The implication there?I’m not.
She’s not wrong. I’m at the height of my career. In a month, when my baby enters this world, I’ll be starting my eighth season in the NHL. Jen is from Boston, and she’s mentioned wanting to raise the baby there. Her future husband is from Minnesota, thank fuck, so for now, they’re staying put.
If one day the idea of moving comes around again, will I even have a say?
That’s my kid.The reply was immediate, forceful. My mom died when I was young, but my father is the best damn single dad that ever existed. With a role model like that, I know I can do it. How, I haven’t worked out yet.
“You can’t just flit in and out of his life when it suits you,” she’d said. That’s when I found out I was having a son.
There’s no chance in hell I’ll miss out on his life.
War: I can’t believe you’re going to the Bahamas without me.
War: And in July.
War: Who the fuck goes to the Bahamas in July?
With a chuckle, I slide my phone into my pocket. Then I check the ticket in my hand against the numbers listed on the aisles.
4B.And so far, 4A is open.
I scan the mostly full first-class cabin, my attention snagging on a woman seated in the row behind me. The second our eyes meet, she drops her gaze.
A fan? Maybe. Based on the reaction, she’s not one that’ll pester me during the flight.
I dig Hannah’s debut novel from my carry-on as well as my glasses case and then settle into the aisle seat.
Hannah is actually the reason I’m headed to the Bahamas in July. I was in Boston for the offseason when Jen called, and after I had a full-on freak out, my stepsister told me I needed tohave a day. She came up with the concept when she was a kid. When a friend or loved one is going through a breakup or having a major crisis like I am, she sends them on a trip.
In the middle of summer, flights to the Bahamas are cheap. Accommodations too. If they hadn’t been, I never would haveallowed her to pay. She booked the flight, and I was more than happy with sitting in coach until I realized just how uncomfortable I’d be in a middle seat at the back of the plane. While I’m not the biggest guy in the NHL, four hours stuck between two people in those little seats would be pure torture.
Since this is supposed to be my last big hurrah, I upgraded.
I take out my phone and type out a response to my best friend.
Me: I can’t believe you left me to play for Boston. Without your miserable ass on the ice by my side, who the fuck is going to make me look good?
War: Ha ha. Come to Boston, brother. The weather’s slightly warmer.
Me: You know I can’t.
War: Yeah, yeah. I just hope all those zeros that contract gave you will keep you warm on those cold, lonely nights.
