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“Beneath the grump, I’m a lot of things. I don’t even remember some of them.” He mumbles the second part as if I’m not meant to hear.
“Maybe it’s time you try to,” I say.
His hands rub my arms before they fall to his sides. “Maybe it is.” He stares down at me as if he wants to say more. With no lights on, my porch is dark, like a makeshift confessional. Herakes a hand through his hair. “Get inside and lock up so I know you’re safe.”
His chosen words disappoint me. I had hoped we could share in that moment longer.
I turn the key in the lock and let myself in. Pausing inside the doorway, I say, “Thank you for everything. Opening your home to me, dinner, dessert, walking me home, and most of all, scaring the bejesus out of Les. That’s the best gift I’ve ever received.”
“My pleasure. But I’m not convinced he got the message yet.”
I look him over. “You’re twice his size. I think he did.”
“I hope you’re right. Merry Christmas, Lucy.” He smiles.
“Merry Christmas, Niall.” Closing the door between us, I lean my forehead on the hard surface.
“Lock up,” he yells through the door.
Smiling, I turn the deadbolt in place and listen for the echoes of his footsteps as he crosses the porch to the stairs.
What an interesting end to my night.
CHAPTER 11
NIALL
My neighboracross the street waves to me. I don’t know her name, but she seems friendly.
“Merry Christmas,” I shout, shifting my position on the cold stoop. If I stay out here much longer, my ass might freeze.
There’s no shortage of cars driving by as people make their way to visit with family and friends. I think about Bella and how this is her first Christmas. Did she visit Santa and have her picture taken? Did she tear at the wrapping paper on her gifts? What was her favorite present?
A pang of sadness hits me, but I push it away. Breathing in the fresh, cool air, I remind myself I’m okay. I’m surviving one day at a time. I focus on the heat coming off the ceramic mug clasped between my hands. It’s half-full of the dark roast coffee Maeve gifted me this morning. She mentioned something about it being an organic fair trade brand I’ve never heard of, but it tastes good so far. I’m not picky about my coffee. As long as it’s caffeinated, I’m all set.
My eyes take in the picturesque neighborhood made up of Craftsman bungalows of varying sizes. Though the yards are mostly on the smaller size, they’re well manicured. This is adesirable area in the real estate market. I’m lucky Calista was willing to rent to me.
It’s funny how things come together for you when you need them the most. As turbulent as my life was before I moved to South Carolina, I have a lot to be grateful for. My new team is everything I hoped it would be. My siblings and I are all under one roof right now, and I have a beautiful, intelligent neighbor who’s increasingly occupying more of my thoughts. The jury’s still out on whether that’s a positive thing or not. But being in her company is enjoyable. She provides a welcome distraction from my maudlin thoughts that do nothing but hold me back from moving on with my life. Yes, I’ve physically made the break from my past, but I have yet to make the emotional one. The fibers are fraying, but I haven’t cut the loose threads.
Thinking about Bella and what can never be keeps me stuck in place, like I’m in a torturous limbo, and that’s no way to live. Making the most of each day used to be something that was important to me, and I lost that along the way—along with many other pieces of me. I hate how I let everything that happened change me into a man I don’t like or respect. But I’m finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Recognizing that change is necessary, as the first step to making progress.
For the first time in ages, I feel hopeful. I’m going to cling to that feeling with everything I’ve got.
I’m mid-way to Lucy’s house when I begin questioning if I should be doing this. What’s my motivation? I’m not ready to start something romantic with her, so what’s the point? Friendship? Having someone close by who’s not directly associated with hockey could be nice.
When I reach the porch stairs, I realize she’s sitting on her couch.
“Merry Christmas,” I say, startling her.
Her hand goes to her heart. “Oh jeez, I guess I was spacing out. Merry Christmas to you.” She smiles in welcome.
I climb the stairs and set down the container of cookies I made on the coffee table. “These are for you.”
“Thank you.” She pats the couch next to her. “Come sit down for a bit.” She shifts the blanket that’s covering her legs and most of the couch, making room for me.
Once I’m seated, she tosses part of the blanket over my legs. “It’s chilly out here.”
“Thanks.”
