Page 30 of Offside for Christmas
She'd unpacked her entire life into her childhood bedroom and cried for two weeks straight.
"Cole's not Marcus," Sophie said gently, pulling Ellie back to the present.
"They're all Marcus. Hockey players don't stay. They can't. The sport won't let them."
"Maybe. But you're never going to know if you don't give it a shot."
"I'm not giving anything a shot." Ellie stood, zipping her bag with more force than necessary. "We're just coworkers who happen to be going to the same party. That's it."
"In a remote cabin. Where one-bed situations are practically mandatory."
Ellie threw a pillow at her. "You're impossible."
"I'm a romantic." Sophie dodged the pillow and grabbed her coat. "Which one of us has to be, since you've decided to be all practical and self-protective."
"It's called learning from experience."
"It's called being scared." Sophie hugged her, quick and fierce. "But I love you anyway. Text me if anything interesting happens. And by interesting, I mean if you kiss him."
"I'm not going to kiss him."
"Sure you're not." Sophie headed for the door, then paused. "El? For what it's worth? You deserve someone who stays. But you also deserve to let yourself want something, even if it's scary. Even if it might not work out."
She left before Ellie could figure out how to respond to that.
The drive to the cabin took thirty minutes through increasingly heavy snowfall. The roads were still clear, but the sky looked ominous—dark gray and heavy with the promise of more snow to come.
Ellie's phone buzzed as she turned onto the long driveway that led to the cabin.
SOPHIE:Remember: breathe, be yourself, and if you end up sharing a bed with him, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD text me
ELLIE:There will be no bed sharing
SOPHIE:That's what they all say
ELLIE:Goodbye Sophie
SOPHIE:TELL ME EVERYTHING TOMORROW??
Ellie pulled into the small clearing in front of the cabin and immediately spotted the other vehicles: Mac's truck with the Eagles bumper sticker, Luke's sensible SUV, Jamie's ancient Jeep that somehow still ran. Martinez's sedan. Coach's battered pickup. A few other cars she recognized from the team. And a truck that had to be Cole's.
He actually came.
Something in her chest did a little flip that she absolutely was not going to acknowledge.
The parking area was full—she was the last one here. That almost never happened.
The cabin itself was beautiful—all log walls and warm golden light spilling from the windows, smoke curling from the stone chimney, Christmas lights strung along the porch railing. Someone had hung a wreath on the door, slightly crooked, and she could hear music and laughter from inside.
She'd felt guilty about delegating the decorating this year—Mac and his sister had insisted she focus on work while they handled it—but looking at it now, they'd done well. Good enough, anyway. The lights were a little uneven and the wreath was definitely off-center, but it had that warm, lived-in feeling she'd been going for.
Ellie climbed out and straightened the wreath as she passed, unable to help herself, then circled back to grab her bag from the passenger seat. She'd almost forgotten the thermos of hot chocolate she'd made that morning—the good kind, with real chocolate and a hint of cinnamon. She tucked it under her arm.
Taking a deep breath, she headed for the door.
Inside was exactly what she'd expected: organized chaos.
The main room was spacious and cozy, dominated by a massive stone fireplace where a fire crackled cheerfully. Mac had clearly been in charge of decorations—there was a small Christmas tree in the corner, already decorated with ornaments that looked suspiciously like hockey pucks painted to look festive. Garland draped over the mantel. A ridiculous inflatable Santa in the corner that was slowly deflating. Ellie looked around and saw Mac who was incapable of tell a story without his whole body. Right now he was demonstrating a body check with sound effects. Coach was laughing from his spot near thefire, Martinez shaking his head with a grin. The whole team had beaten her here.
