Page 8

“She’s fine.” He rolled his eyes and held a hand to my lower back, practically shoving me inside the house.

My stomach chose that second to let out a grumble.

Teresa’s eyebrows pulled together. “Oh honey, when’s the last time you ate something?

I’ll whip something up for you. You still like grilled cheese?

Wait”—she held up a finger—“that was Ali. You were a pasta and French fries girl, right?” she asked with a grin.

She had that same happy spark in her eyes as her son.

I sat there blinking, speechless. She did remember me, and not for anything terrible.

“What about me?” Kappy practically pouted. “I want some.”

I automatically rolled my eyes, then majorly regretted it when his mom caught me. My cheeks flamed up immediately, but a knowing grin tugged at her lips as she smacked her son’s stomach. “I’ll make you some, too.”

“You really don’t have to,” I said, finally finding my voice.

“Oh, please, let me.” She gave me a kind smile. “I never have anyone to dote on anymore. You wanna shower?” She turned to her son. “Get her something warm and comfy to wear, honey,” she said before darting into the kitchen.

Waiting for Kappy to toe off his boots and shed his coat, my eyes wandered the small living room.

For a second, I wondered why Kappy hadn’t upgraded his mom’s house.

After playing in the NHL for almost a decade, he surely had enough money to buy her a mansion.

Then again, as I looked around, I kind of understood why she wouldn’t want to move.

The space had an authentic warmth that no amount of money could reproduce.

The couches, decorated with plaid fluffy blankets, were worn and comfy looking, and they faced an older TV in the corner.

I could practically see a teenage Kappy storming in here, dropping his hockey bag and collapsing on one of the couches.

A fire crackled in the fireplace, and on the mantel sat a large picture of a bride and groom.

Teresa, in a frilly white dress, and her groom—a handsome guy with dark hair whose strong profile looked almost exactly like Kappy’s.

My eyes darted between the picture and Kappy.

“Chop chop, now.” His mom ordered.

Kappy smirked. “We better get going.”

He led me through the kitchen where Teresa was already busy at the stove. Walking past her, he leaned down and kissed his mom on the head. She patted his stomach and gave him a grin that I couldn’t quite decipher.

Walking down the wood-paneled hallway to the bedrooms, the clean laundry scent that I associated with Kappy was overwhelming.

He dipped into a bedroom, but I hesitated in the doorway. “I like how she orders you around,” I whispered, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

He smirked as he rummaged around in a drawer. “You would.”

“She remembered me,” I said quietly.

He scratched his cheek. “Yeah, well, I doubt she’d forget the girl she found her son with in the rink utility closet.”

I covered my mouth. “I completely forgot about that.”

He chuckled. “I think she thought I was going to be a teen dad for a solid month after that. Here ya go.” He pushed some clothes at me, but then didn’t let go. “Piper,” he said, forcing me to look up at his sincere eyes. “I wasn’t being mean when I said you look like yourself.”

I rolled my lips together. “Yeah, well, it currently looks like I’ve been through a hurricane, so it sounded like you said I always look bad.”

His face flinched. “No. I just meant…without all that…” He pressed his lips together and motioned around my face and hair. “You look like how I remember you, when we were young.” He held a strand of my curly hair between his thumb and forefinger. “I like your hair like this.”

Something in my chest settled. Sometimes I forgot he knew me before I even knew hair straighteners existed.

His throat bobbed with a swallow. “All right, c’mon, showers right over there,” he said, guiding me by placing his large hand on my lower back.

When his hand was gone, I missed it.

Oh. My. God.

I was going crazy.

I could not get flustered over Kappy .

Closing the door behind me, I quickly undressed and got in the hot shower.

He was just being nice because I had a horrible day. My mind was just tired, and my body was just confused. The only reason I felt this spark of attraction was because I’d never felt this alone in the world and he was like a beacon back to familiarity.

I could not afford to forget our past.

The last time I thought it was “our time” and that we’d date, I was basically slapped with a major reality check. I promised my younger self that I’d never let myself feel that stupid ever again.

_________

After quickly brushing out my wet hair and dressing in the warm flannel pajama pants and oversized long-sleeved Centre Ice Hockey shirt that I knew was Kappy’s, I wandered out to the kitchen.

With gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, thick socks, and a t-shirt, Kappy plated the pasta and poured some water in tall glasses for us.

“Where’s your mom?” I asked, gingerly sitting at the small wooden table.

“She went to bed. ”

My heart dipped. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I take too long?”

“Nah.” He gave me a close-lipped smile and took a seat across from me. “It’s just late.”

“Sorry,” I said again, annoyed with myself for making this mess in the first place.

He paused and frowned. “I don’t know if I’ve ever heard you say ‘sorry’ before.”

My shoulders dropped. Great. More evidence that I was an evil bitch. “Do you have a laptop I can borrow?”

He shoved a large bite in his mouth and shook his head. “Nah, everything’s okay,” he mumbled.

“Huh?”

He took his hat off and scrubbed a hand over his messy hair while he finished his large bite. “Mer called up your dad. His financial dude is putting a stop to all your cards. It’ll take a minute to get everything sorted again, but it’s all okay for tonight.”

“Oh.” The tightness in my chest eased a little. “Thank you.” I breathed out while pushing up the sleeves of his large shirt.

“Whoa.” His eyes narrowed on the burn mark on my arm. “What happened there?”

“Nothing.” I tried to gently pull my sleeve down.

He grasped my wrist and tugged my arm toward him to inspect. He pulled the sleeve back and released a hiss. “It looks like a burn.”

“Spilled my coffee at the airport,” I muttered.

“Shit, Piper.” He pushed his chair back and started rummaging in the cabinets.

Seconds later, he was smoothing some aloe on the burn, soothing the hurt.

“Thank you,” I said with a sigh.

His forehead creased. “I didn’t know you were hurting. You should’ve told me.”

“It’s fine.”

He gave me a gentle grin as he sat back across from me. “You really got beat up today, eh?”

The backs of my eyes prickled. The food in front of me started blurring.

His face went slack. “Shit, Piper, I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry!” I heaved, wiping at my face with the back of my hand.

“Oh, well, I am.” His face pinched in sympathy .

“Don’t be,” I said more hysterically. His pity was making me panic.

“Okay, I’m not.” He held his hands up in innocence.

“Good.” Tears were streaming down my face.

“Good,” he agreed, his eyes wide with confusion.

“I haven’t cried since Grand Prix and now I can’t stop,” I said, feeling helpless.

He paused for a beat. “It’s okay to cry.”

“No, it’s not,” I complained, covering my face with the long sleeves of his shirt.

“Why not? I’m not judging, cry all you want,” he muttered before moving around the kitchen to clean his dishes.

After eating—and crying—exhaustion slammed into me, making my eyelids feel heavy. I couldn’t care less where I slept so long as I could finally close my eyes.

I followed him down the hall to a bedroom with one full-size bed pushed up against the wall and two twin beds pushed up against the opposite walls. They all faced a TV at the back with a very old gaming system set up underneath it.

Kappy grinned as he followed my gaze. “JP and Colt used to sleep here so often that my mom eventually got mattresses for them, too.”

Picturing the young, innocent versions of three of them hanging out in here made a small, bittersweet smile tug at my lips. “That’s nice.”

“She’s a nice lady,” he said with a gentle grin.

You’re nice, too. I blinked the thought away. God. What was going on with my head? Instead, I settled on, “Th-thank you for coming to get me.”

“Almost choked on that, eh?” he asked with a teasing grin.

“Shut up.” I elbowed him again, struggling to tamper down the small grin pulling at my own lips.

He smirked, but his eyes remained serious. “It’s okay, P, everything’s fine.” He pointed to the full-size mattress. “That’s all you.”

I immediately shook my head. “I’ll just take the smaller—”

In an instant, he flipped the lights, then wrapped a strong arm around my waist and dumped me on the bed, making me release a yelp.

“Goodnight,” he said with a wry chuckle .

“Way to manhandle me,” I grumbled, trying to rearrange the sheets and blanket in the dark.

“Sometimes you need it.”

I blinked at the dark ceiling. “And you know what I need?” I challenged. A tiny sliver of me hoped beyond all reason that he’d say yes. Because at least that would make one of us.

He was quiet for a beat. I looked over to find him staring at the ceiling as well, an arm slung over his forehead. “Sometimes.”

I didn’t know what to say back to that, so I just turned on my side and stared at the paneled wall.

“You okay?” he asked in a gentle tone. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you so…unsure of yourself.”

Hearing him say the truth of how I felt made my heart squeeze painfully in my chest. I opened my mouth two, three times to talk, but closed it each time. When I finally spoke, it took a huge effort to keep my voice even. “Patrick.”

“What happened? I thought you guys decided to stick it out ‘til the Olympics?”

“He dumped me last night.” I cleared my throat. “That’s why I was trying to go home. It’s for real this time. I’m not going to the Olympics. It’s done.”