Page 22 of Flashback for the Forward

Throwing my legs over the side of the mattress, I rushed across the room to peek through the glass. As expected, Cole stood on the opposite side, looking as handsome as ever.

I wrenched the window open slowly, mindful that it had a tendency to creak.

“Miss me already?” I teased. He’d been at the house as an invited guest mere hours ago.

A million butterflies took flight inside my belly when his lips curved into a sexy smirk.

His hand cupped my cheek, and I sighed at the skin-to-skin contact. “I miss you every second we’re apart, beautiful.”

My lashes fluttered. “Cole.”

He dipped down for a quick kiss. “I wanted to give you your birthday present.”

I reared back, brows drawn down. “You already gave me a present at the party earlier.”

Cole reached into his back pocket, producing a box. “That one was from your brother’s best friend. This one is from your boyfriend.”

It took all my effort not to squeal. I’d crushed on Cole, trailing after him like a lovesick puppy, for as long as I could remember. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that one day he would return my feelings, let alone that he would call himself my boyfriend. Even if no one knew other than the two of us.

“Well?” He shook the box, extending it toward me. “Are you going to open it?”

Accepting the gift, I untied the ribbon and cracked the lid. I peeked down at the contents before returning my gaze to Cole. “A friendship necklace?” For all the secrecy of giving it to me in private, the item wasn’t overly romantic. “Doesn’t exactly scream ‘boyfriend,’ but okay.”

He chuckled, reaching into his shirt to pull out the matching half, though his pendant was a brilliant turquoise instead of silver. “The rest of the world will see a friendship necklace. Only you and I will know that you’re carrying around half of my heart with you everywhere you go.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. “Half of your heart?”

Humming, Cole stepped forward, plucking the necklace from the box and affixing it around my neck. With his mouth beside my ear, he murmured, “I love you, Bridget.”

Tears pricked at the back of my eyes, my every dream having come true. Clutching his shoulders, I said in a watery voice, “I love you, too.”

He pulled back, concern alight in his blue eyes. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

I sniffled. “They’re happy tears. I’m so happy, Cole.”

Pulling me into his arms, he held me tight, speaking against the top of my head. “I’m yours. Forever.”

We didn’t get forever. And the pain of losing him was soul-deep, hurting more than the physical injuries I’d suffered at Aiden’s hand tonight.

Despite our past, I knew that Cole was a good man at his core. And he might be the only person in this world who could help me.

Chapter 7

Cole

I collapsed onto the couch with a grunt, throwing an arm over my eyes. The victory over the Seattle Sailors had been brutal. They’d come out of the gate hitting heavy, and all my muscles ached. Thank God, Coach decided to grant us mercy in the form of a maintenance day tomorrow, because I was in desperate need of an ice bath followed by a massage. Fuck, I was so sore I didn’t think I could make it up the stairs to my bedroom.

The start of the season was always a little rough as we got reacquainted with the physical demands of the game. The irony was that as soon as our bodies reached peak performance, injuries inevitably began to occur. I didn’t know a single guy playing professionally who made it to April or beyond who wasn’t banged up to all hell.

But most, if not all, came back every September ready to do it all over again. Because we loved hockey more than anything.

Resigning myself to a night spent on the couch, I reclined against the cushions before grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. Highlights from around the league played on the screen, including the goal I’d managed to score during the Surf’s win tonight. It was even more beautiful watching it from a bird’s-eye view—a top-shelf snipe, finding the tiniest gap between the goalie’s shoulder and the crossbar. All that time spent teaching Austin how to shoot with precision this summer had helped to sharpen that skill for me as well.

My eyes began to droop, growing heavier with each passing minute. But just when sleep was about to claim me, a tapping sound jarred me back to consciousness.

I jackknifed upright, sucking in a sharp breath as the sudden movement caused lightning bolts of pain to shoot through my beat-up body.

“Fuck,” I hissed, digging my fingers into a particularly tender spot.