Page 140 of Lucky Shot
When my flight arrives in Denver, Molly is waiting for me at baggage claim.
“Hi!” She hugs me then takes my backpack from me. “Ooh. What do you have in here?”
I almost tell her a dismembered head.
“I couldn’t decide which shoes to bring,” I admit instead.
“Comfortable ones.” She hikes the bag to her shoulder. “I’ve booked three more meetings for you since you got on the plane. Anna Vohn with Lawrence Publishing and…”
My eye catches on a TV screen inside one of the many airport restaurants as we walk the corridor to exit. I’ve watched more sports news in the past week than my entire life, so I instantly recognize the sports news channel and the three men sitting around a large, curved desk. At the top of the screen are headshots of several Moonshot hockey players. My gaze locks on Nick immediately. His dark hair and the scowl that I used to think was his default expression.
I pause long enough that Molly power walks ahead, still talking a mile a minute. She finally realizes I’m no longer beside her when she reaches the sliding doors to the exit. She hurries back to me, gaze flicking to the screen.
“Ah, the hockey player,” she says. “Did he convert you into a sports fan?”
“Maybe not a fan, but an appreciator.”
“And of him?”
“Definitely a fan.”
She grins. “Can’t blame you. He is cuuute. Nice?”
“Yeah.”
“Single?”
My cheeks heat. “Yes.”
Unfortunately, and as much as I wish I could tell her he isn’t single because he’s mine, he isn’t. I don’t know if he ever was, technically speaking, but I know I wanted him to be. I still do.
“Maybe for your next book we can send you to Paris or Italy. How do you feel about soccer?”
“Clueless.”
“Which is why you’ll need to interview an expert. Say the word and I’ll make a few calls.”
I have no doubt she would. “I don’t think I can handle learning another sport yet.”
I want to live in my hockey era a bit longer. And my Nick era. I wonder what he’d say if I suggested stopping by for a quick visit after the convention. It’s been less than a week but if he misses me even a fraction as much as I miss him, then I think he’ll be on board. And if he isn’t, then I guess that’s my answer on whether or not this will truly work.
His photo flicks off the screen and Molly and I begin walking again. I’m excited to look for flights later and text him to make sure it’s okay. My lips curve. Kick ass at this convention and then I can go see him.
Almost like he knew I was thinking about him, my phone pings with a text from him. It’s a picture taken on the ice and he follows it up with another message.
Nick
Wish you were here.
Me
Just landed in Denver. Wish I were there too. X
“Everything good?” Molly asks.
“Yeah. Sorry.” I pocket my phone, feeling more certain about making a little detour after the convention. I didn’t imagine it this summer. I know it. He felt it too.
I let out a breath. “So who am I meeting with today?”
