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"I suppose I do." She smiles.
"Well, had I known we were wagering kisses, I would have upped the ante," Mitchell Starling, the team owner, adds jovially.
"Don't be ridiculous, Mitchell," Monica, his wife adds lightly with an eye roll. "You get more than enough kisses from me."
Monica and Mitchell Starling are a couple in their fifties with a daughter in college. They're fantastic owners, wealthy but without all the pretension. Mitchell is a prominent businessman who made his money creating Starling Enterprises, a company founded in real estate development and now has several other profitable branches.
He's a medium-height man with a slight build and is good-looking for a middle-aged guy. Unlike many rich men, Mitchell Starling did not trade in his original wife for a newer model. Although I have to admit, Mrs. Starling has benefited from aging well along with her husband. By all accounts, they seem to genuinely enjoy each other's company and look to still be in love.
They are good people. They're not snobbish or rude and enjoy working with charities, especially ones involving kids.
"Well, Ms. Avery, it appears you owe your high school sweetheart a kiss," Monica preens, arching a well-manicured brow. Shocked, both Em and I stare at the Starlings. While our past relationship isn't a secret, it's not a well-known fact.
"Darlings," Monica laughs, and the sound has the tinge of an evil genius. "If there is one thing I pride myself on, it's knowing my personnel. After that very enigmatic comment Ryan made when he requested a trade here, I had to know what 'unfinished business' he had in this city. I assume you, Ms. Avery, are his unfinished business."
"Ryan and I are just friends," Em starts, causing me and Monica to stare at her. She stutters for a moment and blushes under my gaze. "Well, maybe a little more than friends."
"Ha! Keep telling yourself that, Ms. Avery," Monica cackles. "According to Martha Gunner, you two were quite an item, only a breath away from making it to the alter. I promise you, there is no better source of truth than one's mother. Just ask my daughter."
"When were you talking to Martha?" Avery asks incredulously, and I want to know the same thing. Mom never told me that she'd spoken to the team owners.
"Before we traded for Ryan, of course," she says as if it's the most natural thing in the world for owners to call a player's parents. It's not. Players usually get vetted before being drafted into the NHL by scouts, general managers, and coaches because we're still kids when we're drafted. But I've never heard of owners calling a grown man's parents before a blockbuster trade.
I'm floored. I can't believe my team's owners consulted my mother before acquiring me from Los Angeles, and I can't believe my mom didn't say anything about it. Em is just as shocked.
"Well then," Mitchell adds jovially. "It looks like you need to pay up, Ms. Avery. Northmen, and North-women, always settle their debts."
Before we know it, everyone has joined in on the fun. Some of the kids are making kissy faces and noises. Chase, being the idiot he is, starts a chorus of, "Monk and Avery sitting in a tree—" I swear to god, when that guy gets his ass handed to him by a woman, I will be the first in line to serve him some humble pie.
Rolling her eyes, Em walks over to me, rolls onto her tippy-toes, and kisses my lips lightly. It's quick, over much faster than I would have liked, but given where we are and who we are in front of, I'll take it. I don't want to traumatize these kids.
Holly and Luke join in the fun and share a quick peck, and so do the Starlings. Most of the kids cheer, but some boys groan the prerequisite, "Gross, they're kissing." I can't help but chuckle. Give it a couple of years, boys, and you'll change your tune.
"Me too! Me too!” Abby jumps up and down, before tugging on my jersey. All the adults coo at how adorable she is. She's seriously the cutest.
Holly grabs her camera, ready for the perfect promotional shot. Em and I lean down on either side of Abby and kiss her cheeks, creating the cutest kid sandwich of all time.
By the end of the afternoon, everyone is in high spirits, and I can't help but hope that this is the start of something more for Em and me.
11?
Face Offs and Playoffs
Avery
I'm weak.
I can't stand being around Ryan and pretending to be indifferent to him anymore. He's not the same boy I loved as a teenager.
He's better.
He's a man, and as tempting as he was seven years ago, he's even more so now.
Ryan hasn't given up on me, and I can't help but hope Tyra, Holly, and everyone else is right—Ryan would love me through any defects I have. There is no telling what the future could bring, and while I can't promise a future with children, I can't deny that there is still something between us. Something that never went away.
We have a bounty of unresolved feelings, and if Ryan wants to pursue them further, I can't resist him anymore. I've punished myself for seven years, and if after all that time, he still wants to try and make this work, I want to try too.
I just hope I can protect some small piece of my heart while giving us a second chance.
