Page 77 of A Match Made In Fall

“You timed that perfectly,” Logan teases.

“You know it. I’ll talk to you soon.”

I quickly get off the phone and grab plates from the cabinet and get drinks from the fridge. Isabella brings the food into the kitchen, and the smell of melted cheese and garlic instantly reminds me how hungry I am. Between meetings and the packing, it’s been a very long day.

“Logan and Ivy are so nice,” Isabella says once we're seated at the table.

“They’re okay,” I reply with a shrug.

She laughs. “I get it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said the exact same thing about my brother. And speaking of him, he was complaining earlier about not being able to get Bears tickets anymore.”

I chuckle. “Just talk to Nick. He’ll take care of him.”

She grimaces. “Um, that’s kind of the problem. He can’t cheer for the Bears anymore—we’re Golden State Seals fans now.”

“I’d understand if he keeps supporting the Bears,” I assure her. “They’re his hometown team.”

She shrugs. “Maybe. But they traded you, so I’m not feeling very loyal to them anymore. Besides, this isn’t my hometown.”

A grin spreads across my face. “So you’re officially a Seals fan now?”

“Of course I am.” She nods without hesitation. “My favorite hockey player happens to be on their roster.”

Once again she always knows exactly what to say.

“Well, in that case,” I say, clearing my throat, “does that mean you’ll be coming to see one of our games soon?”

She forces a smile. “Maybe.”

“How about definitely?” I ask.

A laugh escapes her. “I guess if my favorite hockey player needs fan support, I should probably make the trip.”

“I definitely need fan support,” I tell her. “I’m heading to a new team in a new city. It might be lonely for a while.”

“Well, then I’d better start looking at flights.” She picks up her fork again. “My schedule is about to free up as soon as you step on that plane…”

The thought of seeing her sooner rather than later eases some of the heaviness that’s been weighing on me since the trade. For a moment, neither of us speaks. Then I notice her picking at her salad with her fork.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask.

She sighs softly, her gaze fixed on her plate. “I’m thinking about you and me.”

My stomach tightens. “And?”

“Honestly, I’m having a lot of doubts.”

Hmm…that’s not what I wanted to hear her say.

“Doubts about me?” I ask, unable to hide the worry in my voice.

Her eyes immediately move up to meet mine. “No. Not about you. About the distance and about whether we can do this. It’s going to be tough.”

I slide my chair closer to hers.

“Isabella, I understand if you think it’s too much. And I’d never want you to do something you don’t want.” I pause, trying to think of the right words to say. “But I’m not ready to let you go.”

She presses her lips together and nods as tears gather in her eyes again.