Page 32 of A Match Made In Fall

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” I say. “When your whole life has always been go-go-go, slowing down almost feels wrong. I’ve had so much guilt for not working.”

“Always.”

It feels nice talking to someone who understands without needing an explanation.

Austin leads me toward a sleek black SUV parked at the end of the row. He reaches for the passenger door and opens it for me without a second thought. This gesture impresses me.

My dad still opens doors for my mom, even after all these years. I always thought it was one of those old-fashioned things that doesn’t happen anymore. Austin offers me his arm as I carefully maneuver into the seat, awkwardly trying to move this stupid bulky boot strapped to my foot.

“You okay,” he says.

“Great,” I say with a laugh.

He stays in the doorway until I’m settled inside, and something about this makes my stomach do a flip. This reaction feels both strange and exciting—almost like we are on a real date. I’m still not clear if I should consider this a date since we were with four other people.

Austin walks around the front of the car and slides into the driver’s seat.

“So,” he says, starting the engine, “where are we headed?”

I pull out my phone. “I still don’t have my parents’ address memorized. Hold on.”

He grins. “No rush.”

This might be the best response he could have.

Once we’re on the road again, our conversation continues seamlessly.

“Does anyone else in your family play hockey?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Nope. Just me. My younger brothers went in completely different directions. Logan works in finance, and Brendan’s in medical school. Both stable, responsible careers.”

I wrinkle my nose dramatically. “True, but they aren’t as fun as playing a sport.”

Austin laughs. “That’s probably true.”

“And there’s definitely something to be said for what you’ve accomplished,” I continue. “I mean, the percentage of people who play a sport professionally must be low. There are way more doctors and finance guys walking around.”

“You make a great point,” he agrees. “Sometimes I forget that because hockey’s been my whole world for so long.”

“Well, you shouldn’t. It’s impressive.”

He glances over at me for half a second before returning his eyes to the road, but I still catch the small smile on his face.

“Thank you.”

“And despite the hectic schedule, I’m guessing you still love it.”

“Absolutely,” he says immediately. “Even on the hardest days, I wouldn’t trade this life for anything.”

I nod. “I feel the exact same way about dancing.”

Our conversation fades, but the silence doesn’t feel uncomfortable. The kind where neither of us feels pressured to keep talking. For the first time in weeks, I’m relaxed.

Before I know it, Austin slows as we turn into my parents’ neighborhood.

Feelings of disappointment wash over me because I’m not ready for the night to end.

“Here we are,” he says, pulling into the long driveway.