Page 327 of Breaking the Pucking Rules

My stomach knots with regret. I hate pushing him. I know that when the time is right, when the woman is right, he’ll do what he needs to do. It’s just that sometimes…sometimes I feel like he needs to have my permission to do so.

He has it. And I’d hope he knows that—I’ve said it enough over the years. But hearing it and acting on it are two very different things.

Although it’s a few hours later than planned, Dad and I sit down to a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. It’s delicious and, like always, way too much food for two people.

While Dad watches football, I put the leftovers into containers and fill his fridge and freezer. At least it should stop him from ordering takeout every night when he’s home for a while.

Guilt rushes through my veins every time I glance at my watch, my cell, or the clock on the kitchen wall. I shouldn’t be wishing the day away, but my need to be with Kodie is getting unbearable. He’s going to make everything that’s awful about today better, and I can’t wait.

When the time finally comes, I slip my feet intomy heels and grab my purse from the hallway before walking into the living room.

There’s a huge part of me that wants to change my mind when Dad looks up at me with sad eyes.

“That time already, huh?” he asks.

“I can stay.” The words are out of my mouth before I have a chance to catch them.

A second passes, and then another as I wait.

“What? Don’t be silly. You said it yourself earlier. She’d want us to be living our lives and laughing. Go, spend time with your friends. Family isn’t just about blood, Casey. Family is also those we choose.”

I nod, the lump of emotion in my throat too huge to force out any words.

“Go, Care Bear. Call me tomorrow?”

“Of course. Please try not to drink all the beer in the fridge.”

He chuckles, which is basically confirmation that he will.

“And it’s not too late for you to go out with friends as well, you know,” I whisper as I kiss his cheek.

He mutters some kind of agreement that I know is a whole heap of bullshit before I leave him with a fresh bottle of beer, waiting for the next quarter to start.

“Love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, Care Bear. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he calls before I pull the front door open and slip out into the mild fall evening.

Yeah…we’ll see about that.

The second I’m in my car, I set my GPS to the address Kodie gave me earlier and blow out a large breath.

Like Dad, he lives on the outskirts of the city. It’s not too far away, and thanks to its suburban location, I shouldn’t need to worry about the press catching me. Something I wouldn’t be able to say if he lived in a fancy penthouse in the city center like Linc and most of the other guys.

In an attempt to distract myself from my nerves, I turn up the volume on my favorite playlist and press my foot to the gas.

In only a few minutes, I’m going to be inside Kodie Rivers' house, and hopefully soon after, his bed.

A laugh bubbles up, filling the car.

This could be up there as one of the best Thanksgivings I’ve ever had.

As I pull into his large driveway, his front door opens, revealing the man himself standing there in nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants, I upgrade that thought. And fuck, am I thankful.

78

KODIE

Iwas waiting at the window from the moment she messaged to say she was leaving.