Page 42 of Any Second Now (Fort Collins Blizzard Hockey #2)

My Boyfriend Works Out

RALEIGH

“ I ’m sorry to hear your grandmother’s so sick.” I’m lying in bed, my eyes tracing the scuffed ceiling of my bedroom in the Pink Palace. The cross-stitch project I was working on late last night and as soon as I woke up an hour ago lays next to me.

“Thanks. Apparently, they think it’ll happen soon.” January’s voice is steady, but I know she was close to her grandmother when she was growing up. Not so much as an adult.

“Are you going to come home?”

“Probably.” January’s family lives in Rhode Island.

As far as I know, she hasn’t been back there in years.

When she occasionally sees her parents, they meet her in Boston.

She’s never said much about them. Only that when she left for college in Virginia and then moved to Europe, they drifted apart.

She definitely talked about her grandmother.

“Well, let me know. Maybe we can see each other.” I sniff. “It’s not fair you and Lucy had all that time together in England.”

“We missed you for sure,” January says, not commenting any further about her family. “But can we talk more about what you’ve been doing this summer? Or who you’ve been doing?”

“Nope, we sure can’t.” Because it’s all I’ve been thinking about, and I’m not sure I can handle vocalizing all of that.

“Raleigh.” January chuckles, and while she still sounds strained, it’s nice to hear her laugh. “You’re not even going to say goodbye to him? Get one last kiss?”

“Hush. No, I’m not going to see him before I leave, which should be on Monday, as long as I can close the deal on the RV later.” I stand and straighten up my bed.

Obviously I’m not going to see him. I’m not waiting around to have another painful conversation about how we can’t be together. Why would I do that?

But something shifted in me last night when I was talking to Lucy and her friends. The stupid Scottish love story actually made me wonder if there was a way. Maybe I am the one who created the rules that are making me unhappy.

But I texted Atticus. I probably shouldn’t have. He read it but didn’t respond.

‘Raleigh.” January groans and I sink back down on the bed.

“What?”

“This is such a huge deal that you finally hooked up with Atticus.”

“Finally?” I mean, okay, she’s right that it’s a big deal. And in my head, yeah, I guess it’s been a long time coming.

“Lucy and I have been predicting it since he showed up at JMU.”

“Seriously?” I can’t seem to manage more than one-word answers.

“Um, yes? The way you two flirted back then was ridiculous. I can’t believe it never happened, boyfriend or not.”

“Well, it didn’t.”

“I’d at least go find him for one last fu?— ”

“January!”

“What?” she says with fake surprise.

“Can we talk about something else?” My mind is swirling. Damn, I’m so confused. I should be sure of my decision and getting ready for the next chapter of my life, not questioning everything.

She scoffs. “Fine. I can’t believe you’re selling the Pink Palace. I thought maybe you’d decide RV life was permanent.”

“Definitely not.” I shake my head. RV life is definitely not my permanent state. But I feel like this topic is in the same category as leaving Atticus behind.

I also can’t believe I’m selling the Pink Palace.

Especially with that gorgeous mural.

The one the buyers were talking about painting over.

I rub my face. I need coffee. I’ve been lying in my bed awake for hours, googling things I shouldn’t be googling. And last night I couldn’t sleep after getting back from watching the hockey game at Kellen’s house.

“I met your friends last night,” I say, trying to change the subject. Trying to distract myself.

January squeals. “Aren’t Reese and Oliver amazing? I went with Reese and her sister on a trip to Ireland this summer to visit their other sister, who lives in a seaside town with her gorgeous Irish bartender husband.”

“They were nice.”

January launches into a story from their trip to Ireland and I realize that hearing about Reese and Oliver’s love story is not a distraction. It’s the whole point.

I eventually say goodbye to January and head to my tiny bathroom, chuckling when I go to slide on my slippers. I honestly have no idea how she did it, but Megghen’s left a final present for me in one of them. A warm, brown egg. Tears sting my eyes.

Am I crying over a chicken?

“Thanks, Megghen.” I look across the RV at my chicken, waiting patiently at the door of the tent for me to put her into her coop outside. “You’ve been a good friend this summer.”

I swipe at my eyes and grab the egg so I can stick it in the fridge and start my coffee before going back to clean myself up and pull on leggings, a tank top, and a Blizzard hoodie.

Somehow, my relationship with Megghen went from why is there a chicken in my RV at the beginning of the summer to she’s my sounding board and friend . I really need to hang out with Lucy and January more.

To be honest? I’ve been fantasizing about a life in Fort Collins.

“But it’s not going to happen,” I remind myself as I pour creamer into my coffee.

I’ve looked up so many things.

Local cross-stitch groups that meet in person.

The best places to kayak.

What it’s like to live in Fort Collins year round.

Apartments to rent.

I’m just torturing myself, and I know it.

A knock at the tinny RV door startles me as I’m about to sip from my steaming coffee.

Who the heck could that be? The potential buyers are due to come later today—maybe they came early? Hours and hours early. Or maybe it’s Bri’s friend with the pick up truck here to get Megghen. Ugh, I thought I had until tomorrow with her.

But when I pull open the door—first making sure Fred is within easy grabbing distance—all the breath disappears from my lungs.

It’s Atticus.

A dull buzzing sound fills my ears and I struggle to make my body function. I’m tempted to rub my eyes to make sure he’s really there, but I blink a few times instead.

He’s still standing in front of me.

“Hey, Raleigh,” he says as if he’s supposed to be here to pick me up for one of our early summer dating coach dates or go out on the lake.

“Hey.” I grip the side of the doorframe.

“I’m sorry I didn’t respond to your texts last night.”

“It’s okay.” He looks so gorgeous. My heart can’t handle it.

“It helped me get through. Thank you.”

It’s a warm morning, so he’s wearing a short-sleeved Blizzard t-shirt with athletic shorts that show off his thick thighs and sculpted calf muscles.

Honestly, professional athletes should come with a disclaimer on them as they walk around the world.

One that says don’t mind me, I work out for a living .

There might be an interesting cross-stitch quote in there somewhere.

“I thought you were staying in New York City after the game?” I manage to say, though my voice sounds strangled. The opposite of chill.

“I was going to. That was the plan.” His serious green eyes hold me captive as a beat of silence rests between us.

“Good game,” I say to fill the quiet. “I watched it with Lucy.”

He nods and his neck ripples as he swallows.

“Raleigh—”

“Atticus—” We talk over each other and I press my lips together.

He’s here in front of me. The man I realized maybe I could’ve fought harder for. The one I’ve been questioning whether it’s possible to be with.

The one I fully regret breaking up with.

“You first,” I say.

“I changed the plan.” He nods. “I realized I had to come back here and talk to you. Before you left.”

Atticus’s eyes remain locked on mine, his baseball cap holding his red curls back from his forehead. There’s a fluttering in my belly, like I felt when he kissed me on New Year’s Eve. Sweet anticipation and excitement .

“I’m so glad you did.”

It feels like a hundred years ago that I showed up at his apartment door and broke up with him, but it was only last Sunday. Six days ago.

I’ve lived and died so many times since then.

I’ve regretted my decision.

I’ve double downed on it.

I’ve rewritten that day too many times to count.

And in the past twelve hours, I’ve tried to come up with ways to fix it.

“You are?” He puts his weight on one foot, and then the other.

“I am.” I nod. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

“I was hoping we could make another cross-stitch video.” One side of his mouth quirks up.

I huff a surprised laugh. “Why?”

“To help you make more sales, of course.”

“That might not be a great idea.” I cast a glance at the pile of hoops on my table. “I’m still not caught up from the ones I got from that last video.”

“How about to help you get more followers?”

“Last time I went from three followers to a thousand.”

“See?” He grins at me.

My smile fades from my face.

“Atticus, I’m supposed to leave on Monday to go back—” My voice hitches. I almost said home, but it didn’t feel right. “—back to Connecticut. And I start back at work in a week. I won’t have time for doing cross-stitch anymore. At least not as a business.”

I don’t know. Is any of that true? Just a few days ago, I had resigned myself to being the boring, dependable pharmacist who will always have a stable job and make reasonable life choices. I’m my mother’s daughter. The one with the spreadsheet life plan.

But right now, that all feels so wrong. It doesn’t feel like who I am anymore. I’ve actually changed this summer. And I don’t think I can go back to who I was .

And the way Atticus is looking at me right now… I want to grab his hand and drag him inside and kiss him until we can’t breathe.

Instead, I step out of the RV so I’m standing right in front of him. I keep the door cracked open. If I invite him inside, I don’t think we’ll be able to work this all out logically. My clothes might remove themselves from my body of their own accord if we’re near a bed.

But he’s so tall. And gorgeous. And he’s looking at me like I’m the entire world. So I’m not sure being outside actually helps.

Why is he here?

It can’t be because he has the same feelings for me that I have for him.

Can it?

My heart surges at the thought.