Page 96 of Offside for Christmas
Then he looked back at the highway behind him. The road to Vermont. To Evergreen Cove. To Ellie.
His phone buzzed with another call. He ignored it.
Instead, he pulled up Mac's contact and hit call.
Mac answered on the first ring. "Tell me you read it."
"I read it."
"Tell me you're not still driving to LA."
Cole looked at his truck one more time. Then at the snow falling, at the gray Christmas morning, at the road stretching behind him toward everything that mattered.
"Where is she?"
"Her parents' house. Cole, she's a mess. She thinks she lost you. Thinks you're gone for good, and she thinks—"
"I'm coming back." Cole was already moving toward his truck, his decision made. "I'm turning around right now."
"Thank god. I was about to drive to LA and drag you back myself."
"Mac?" Cole yanked open his driver's door. "Don't tell her I'm coming. I need to... I need to do this right."
"Do what right?"
"Fix the biggest mistake of my life."
Cole ended the call, climbed into his truck, and without a second thought, made a U-turn out of the rest stop.
LA could wait.
The NHL could wait.
His entire career could wait.
Ellie couldn't.
He had eight hours to figure out what to say. Eight hours to practice the words that would convince her to take another chance on them. Eight hours of driving through snow and Christmas morning and the clearest decision he'd ever made.
He was going home.
And this time, he wasn't leaving.
16
ELLIE
Christmas morning, and Ellie sat alone in her apartment in pajamas, staring at her phone.
Her parents were at the bakery—they'd been there since 4 AM and wouldn't be done until late afternoon. It was their tradition: work Christmas Eve and Christmas morning so other families could have fresh pastries and bread for their celebrations, then have their own Christmas on the 26th when her older sister's family drove in with their kids.
Usually Ellie helped at the bakery, but this year she'd told them she wasn't feeling well. Her mom had seen right through it but hadn't pushed.
Now Ellie sat on her couch, watching Cole's life change in real-time.
Sarah's article had exploded. Every major sports outlet was covering it. #JusticeForColeHansen was trending on Twitter. Teams were publicly apologizing for blacklisting him. The video—the real, full video—was everywhere.
Cole Hansen was no longer the villain. He was the hero.
