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He knows I got him as punishment for making me toss my favorite shirt, but the look on his face made this a fair trade.
I pull the new shirt over my head and push my arms through. The shirt even smells a little like him, plus the smell of fresh sheets. I take a deep inhale and now I’m even sleepier than before.
“I’d say we’re even now.”
I pull out of his hold and crawl into the side of the bed that Ryker doesn’t use.
He watches me get under the sheets and then he turns back to the bathroom and closes the door.
I listen to the sounds of the toilet flush and then his electric toothbrush, until finally, I’m out cold.
My dreams fill with an alternate ending to Ryker pulling off my shirt.
One where I wasn’t wearing a sleep bra.
And one that comes with a happier ending.
Chapter Twenty
Ryker
This morning was a mad rush to get out of the house so that we had enough time to go through the coffee shop drive-through for breakfast and Juliet’s coffee.
We pull up to the outdoor rink for the charity event.
Banners and balloons hang all around the outdoor space.
“Looks like they went all out this year,” I say, opening my truck door and sliding out.
“This is a bigger event than I pictured,” Juliet says, her eyes wandering over the parking lot to see the hundreds of cars filling the massive ice park grounds.
“It’s grown over the years since we first started. There should be over a thousand spectators here today.”
This is one of the biggest parks in the city and during the winter months, the city puts in three full NHL sized rinks.
The city hosts peewee hockey tournaments, ice skating competitions, and a city curling league that meets a few times a week.
In addition to all of that, they host the boys and girls club hockey tournament that a lot of ex-pro and semi pro players from all around the area attend to bring in sponsorship and money for the kids. Its popularity pays for almost the entire year to keep the boys and girls center open for after-school programs and grants for families that can’t afford to pay.
It's a program my dad believed in and he had us kids playing in the tournament as soon as we all were old enough to clear eligibility. Now, me and my siblings still play in honor of my dad.
I walk to the back of the truck and get my duffel bag out. I sling the bag across my chest and then grab my hockey skates and close the door.
Juliet is already out and waiting for me at the end of the truck, her iced coffee in one hand.
Seeing her in jeans, stylish snow boots with faux fur lining on top, a puffy down jacket and a beanie with a matching fur ball on the top has me smiling. With the mountains of Vancouver as her backdrop, I can’t help but want to ask her again if she could see herself living here one day. But she and I haven’t agreed to anything more than the next 730 days until my green card is official.
Jumping ten steps ahead with Juliet will only make her leerier and I know her stance on it already. She made it clear with her wide-eyed expression in the immigration office when I mentioned starting a family here someday after retirement.
Still, my chest tightens at how natural Juliet looks, like she fits here. How she fits with me.
I walk down the side of my truck and she follows next to me as we head for the park.
“Anything you should prepare me for when it comes to your family?” she asks.
“Only that my mom doesn’t know that this is temporary so if she starts making plans years in advance, just go with it. And if she asks when we’re going to start a family… which she will,” I say, lifting a brow at Juliet. “… tell her it’s not in our plans until after I retire. That will be the easiest way to get her off your case and it keeps us on the same page.”
It's not far from the truth. If I was going to have kids, I’d like to wait until my four years are up and I’m back in Canada, anyway.
