Page 44 of Defensive Desire
“Boston’s confirmed they're interested,” Mike says, his voice low but carrying just enough for me to pick up.
Greg adjusts his glasses. “Tampa called again too. They’re offering a second-round pick.”
My gut twists, and for a moment, I feel like I’ve taken a slap shot straight to the chest.
Are they talking trades?
I stand rooted to the spot, every muscle in my body tense.
At least they can’t be talking about me. I’ve been with Iron Ridge for five years. I’m the enforcer, the guy who takes the hitsand makes space for the scorers. Why the hell would they trade me?
But… I mean… Iam32.
I know what that means in the professional hockey world. The league’s getting younger every year. It's managements job to be sourcing fresh blood.
My hands are shaking as I pull out my phone, typing out a quick message to Emma.
"How's your day going?"
Her response comes almost immediately.
"Better now! Can’t stop thinking about last night..."
Almost immediately, a second message pops up:
"I mean the date! Not like... I'm not some kind of... you know what, just come over when you're done."
I laugh despite the knot in my gut. She’s so damn cute when she’s flustered.
"On my way. Can’t wait to see you."
The tension eases just a bit. I can’t think about trades or contracts right now. I need to see her. Be with her. Remind myself that there’s more to life than just hockey.
I pocket my phone and start toward the exit. I push through the door and step into the cold Iron Ridge evening, my thoughts racing.
What exactly would I do if Iwastraded? That would mean leaving this town. Leaving Emma.
I can’t even imagine it.
But the way my heart’s pounding, I know one thing for sure. I need to see her.
Now.
I take off toward Chapter & Grind, determined to hold on to the one thing in my life that finally feels right.
Chapter Eleven
Emma
The espresso machine hisses like it’s as fed up with me as I am with myself.
I glance down at the cup in my hand, realizing I’ve steamed the milk way past its usual creamy texture. Great. Another one ruined.
I dump it out, start over, and try to focus on the order in front of me.
Usually, I’m in my element behind this counter. The smell of freshly ground beans, the comforting hum of the grinder, the routine of pouring shots…
It all keeps my mind calm.
Table of Contents
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