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“It was brutal. Before I told him was the worst. There were months of that gnawing ache in my gut when I knew I was going to let him down.”
She nods, looking off into the distance. “I know that feeling.”
“I hung on to that longer than I should have. And then one night after a meatloaf dinner, I finally sacked up and spit it out. He just stared at me for what felt like an eternity. My mom let out this horrified squeak and, yeah. That was a rough summer.”
She’s watching me intently now. Her eyes soft and curious. “But it was worth it? You’re happy? No regrets?”
It takes me a minute to answer. No one asks me that. Ever.
I’m playing in the NHL. It’s a dream not many realize. But it comes with sacrifices that start the second you realize you have to put it before everything else, and that might continue well past the last time you step off the ice.
But none of that changes my answer.
“I’m happy. It’s been a long time coming, but I’m finally where I wanted to be.” Or I will be once the contracts are signed. “And as to regrets? Only that I wish my dream hadn’t come at the cost of my dad’s.”
“I get it.” She smiles again. “But even if he was disappointed at first, that man is so proud of you now. No matter how he teases you, I don’t think even he would change a thing.”
I like that she sees it. That she understands. I like that she’s sitting on “the bed” with me in one of my favorite spots in my hometown.
Hell, I like her. Period.
Chapter 9
Harlow
Iwasn’t sure about crashing my second bachelorette party in as many weeks, but Janie wouldn’t hear of me skipping out. And now that I’m back at the hotel, tipsy from too many sugary drinks and still giggling thinking about the “police officer” who showed up at her sister’s house during dinner, I am so glad I went.
Wade and I texted a few times early on in the evening, but then Grace caught me and commandeered my phone, texting her son in no uncertain terms that this was a girls’ night and he could have me back when the party was over. She’s feisty and so much fun.
Dressed for bed but still a little wound up, I check my phone wondering if Walt had as much fun at his party as his bride-to-be had at hers and if all Wade’s plans for the night turned out the way he’d hoped.
I wonder if he’ll be back before I go to sleep.
If we’ll talk through the wall the way we did the night before. I kind of hope so, because it was surprisingly nice getting drowsy to the sound of his voice.
He has a really nice voice.
Okay, definitely still tipsy.
The door to our suite unlocks and I sit up, a frisson of excitement sweeping over me. After a quick knock, Wade lets himself in and—
“Whoa, are you okay?” I ask, stumbling out of bed as I take in the train wreck that is my fake boyfriend. His hair is standing in total disarray, there are lipstick smudges on his face, and his button-down shirt is hanging open… no buttons to be found.
Wade throws the slide lock and slumps back against the door with a long breath. Tired eyes meet mine, and when he brings up his hand in the universal stop signal, I see his sleeve is literally torn at the cuff.
“I swear, it’s not what it looks like.”
“It looks like…” Like maybe someone needs to call the real police.
“Someone told thedancerat the club I was a hockey player.”
Huh? And then it hits me.
Ooh… The “sports celebrity” thing isreal.
“She’s a Slayers fan? Or just a really hardcore Wade Grady fan?” I whisper, trying to shut down the pinch of jealousy I’m experiencing at the sight of all that lipstick.
Wade lets out a dry laugh. “She’d probably never even heard my name before. I only started getting real ice time in the games this past season. But knowing I’m a pro, sometimes people get caught up in it.” His eyes cut to mine, his smile coming back online. “Present company excluded.”
