Page 22

Quinn

I wake to the feeling of lips pressed carefully to my forehead and force my eyes open.

The sky directly above me isn't an illusion I've been imagining for the past month.

Our bedroom is on the second floor of our traditional Boston two-story townhouse, and a skylight over the bed lets in the early morning sun.

It curls across the footboards, bright but not yet warm.

Along the far wall of our bedroom are two French doors Cash has left open to a small balcony outside.

A warm breeze stirs through the room, carrying the sounds of the street below.

I turn my head, "Hey." My voice sounds like sandpaper rubbed across metal. His smile makes my chest do a fluttery, flipping thing. I still can't believe he's mine; this beautiful townhouse is our home.

The past month has been a dream come true.

Even though hockey season is over and the playoffs have ended, Cash transitioned amazingly into our new life in Boston and onto his new team, the Boston Hackers.

He's been attending his post-addiction recovery program three times a week, and he's been working with a personal hockey trainer during the off-season to improve his overall game.

He's been very focused and determined; I am proud of him.

I'm happy to finish the first year of my MBA program at Harvard. I've secured an excellent summer marketing internship at Gemstone Press, a jewelry manufacturer in Boston.

My online shop keeps me busy, and I've been able to support myself and pay for my education without relying on my father or trust fund.

Cash's legal divorce with Daniela was finalized last week. Cash told me he's been trying to contact her to ensure she's doing okay, but she hasn't answered his calls.

In their settlement, she ended up keeping her condo in Las Vegas, and with her lawyer's help, she could secure a U.S. work Visa for an entire year. Hopefully, she's doing well, even though Cash no longer funds her shopping habits.

"I'm off to practice," he whispers. "A pot of coffee is on the stove."

I smile and give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

He runs a hand through my matted curls and down my bare backside. "See you around lunchtime."

"Don't forget Lyndsey and Louis are coming today."

This will be their first time visiting us in our new home in Boston. I'm super excited to have family here for an entire week. I haven't seen Lyndsey in quite some time, and even though I am now on speaking terms with my father, he still has yet to come and visit us.

"I didn't forget." Cash's eyes make the circuit of my face and down over my entire body, and he says, "I'll be home before their plane lands. I promise."

I nod and hold on to the hem of his t-shirt, needing him to linger just a second longer. "I've got a bunch of touristy things planned for the day. Including dinner at Kensington Fish Market."

Growly puppy sounds carry through the bedroom walls, breaking my and Cash's stare. We bought a Newfie puppy together a few weeks ago. We've been working hard at crate training her.

She's been sleeping in the spare bedroom. Cash has been doing well with all this extra responsibility of owning a pet. On the other hand, I didn't realize how much I valued my sleep.

His laugh is profound, and he bends so it rumbles past my ear as he kisses my neck. "She's awake. And probably needs to go out for a pee."

I groan, covering my eyes with a pillow. "I'm so sleepy."

"What will you do if we ever have real babies?" He chuckles into another kiss, this one to my temple. "Bexley is our baby training."

And yes, we named her after Bexley, California, where we first met.

"Cool it, Brooks," I say, laughing. "Fur babies are the only babies we will have for a while."

When I let him go, he turned to pack the rest of his stuff for the day into his hockey duffle bag.

I follow him out of the bedroom, freezing as I watch him let Bexley out of her crate from the spare bedroom.

Her tail wags like crazy, and she paws at Cash's leg. He bends down, and she licks his face uncontrollably.

"Are you going to bring her outside?" I ask.

His smile stretches from one side of his face to the other as he nods slowly. He loves Bexley no end, and Bexley loves him way more than she loves me. I'm not confident that he'll make it to practice once he gets outside with her.

"Don't make that face," he says, lips pouting at the quiet words and then curling into a panty-dropping smile. "I won't toss her a ball. I'll let her do her business and be right back."

He tucks Bexley under his arm and hits his bag over his shoulder. With a wink, he turns and leaves. The door closes with a quiet click.

Our home is spread out before me with a continuous kitchen, living room, and dining room.

Everything still feels so surreal.

The living room has dramatic oversized windows that bring in natural sunlight, and a gorgeous fireplace with custom tiles is the room's focal point. The kitchen has top-of-the-line appliances, a gas range, granite countertops and a breakfast bar. A separate dining room is adjacent to a large private deck, offering plenty of serenity and sunshine.

The space is open and big, and more than anything, I love that it is our home.

I walk to the one window closest to me, press my hands to the glass, and look down.

In the backyard, I watch Cash playing around with Bexley.

He gives her a good and loving head rub before he brings her up the steps to drop her off inside.

Moments later, I heard the back door click open.

"Love you, Mittens," he says, into the back landing.

Bexley's claws click along the hardwood as she enters the kitchen and toward her food bowl. I turn and look out the window again to see Cash kick his motorcycle into gear and pull away from the curb. Even from this vantage point, he looks ridiculously hot. I wait until I can no longer see him in the blur of traffic before looking away. When I turned around, Bexley wagged her tail and looked up at me.

"Alright, Bexley, time to get ready. We've got a big day ahead of us."

_______________

"I freaking love Boston," Lyndsey gushes. "And I freaking love how happy you two are together."

Nothing is more surreal than this, I swear it.

If you had asked me a year ago if I thought Lyndsey and Louis would be visiting Cash and me in Boston, I would have never believed it.

We spent the afternoon together walking the Freedom Trail, stopping to shop at Faneuil Hall, and then appearing at the New England Aquarium.

We finally made it to Kensington Fish Market for a late dinner.

We eat on the outdoor patio, staring at the view— ocean and nothing but blue skies—the perfect backdrop to a perfect day.

"Yeah, Cash," Louis chimes in. "You've done a three-sixty. Good for you, man. This domestic and tamed side of Cash looks good on you."

"Thanks," Cash replies and looks at me with a pleased smile. I watch as his tongue slips out and wet his lips. He stares at my mouth, lips parted. "I'm a lucky man."

"For a while, I doubted you, Brooks." Lyndsey points her fork in his direction.

He tilts his head, letting a tiny smile tease the corner of his lips. "I know, Lyndsey. I've apologized to you endlessly."

"You know what happens if you ever hurt my sister again," she says and takes a sip of her drink. "I'll attack you. I've done it once and won't hesitate to do it again."

He laughs, shaking his head in mock exasperation, but amusement digs his dimple into his cheek, making my heart grow ten sizes too big for my chest. "For the hundredth time, you don't have to worry."

"You two seem like you're doing well too," I say.

"Yeah..." Louis's voice trails off as he shares a knowing glance with Lyndsey.

"We have some very exciting news," she says, finishing his sentence.

"What?"

Louis bites on his bottom lip, and his eyes light up. "I've been brought up to the pros."

"Congrats, man," Cash says. "When did you find out?"

"About a month ago. After Ben Darby was injured during the playoffs, the Tornadoes offered to pull me up to replace him next season."

"I heard about Darby," he says slowly, running his hand along the back of his neck. "What happened to him is terrible. I can't believe that hit from behind broke his back."

"Yeah. He's lucky he's not paralyzed," Louis says.

"But now Louis finally gets a chance in the pros," Lyndsey pipes up. She looks over at him and rests her hand on his thigh. "You're going to be a superstar, babe." She kisses his cheek.

"I don't know about that," Louis blushes. "But I'm going to work hard, and hopefully, it gets noticed."

"Louis, you're a great hockey player," Cash tells him. "You'll get noticed."

"I hope so."

Lyndsey straightens up. "And I'm moving with him to Santa Anna."

I laugh. "Wow. This is serious."

"He's the peanut butter to my jelly."

Louis leans over and kisses her cheek. I love that they are so ridiculously in love. I'm so happy she's met her match.

"And continuing on the topic of hockey..." Lyndsey pauses for a beat. "Hockey Times Magazine contacted me."

"About what?"

"The four of us doing an interview," she says casually.

I swallow down my food. "Why would they want that?"

"They want to write about hockey legend Hilton Ashby's daughters dating two professional hockey players, especially since Cash's departure from the Tornadoes and his recovery post-rehab. And then, with Louis recently signing on with the Tornadoes, there is a lot to cover. The lady who contacted me— Jane—said we'd get a full page spread and tons of media coverage."

I try not to react so Lyndsey won't detect the judgment all over my face. My first instinct is to protect Cash from media coverage that might exploit him. He's trying hard to rebuild his professional reputation, and I don't want to be part of anything that could destroy it.

"No," I say.

"Quinn! Come on!" Lyndsey whines. "The entire world knows about you two. Why not?"

"Because Cash is working hard to stay out of the media. I don't trust reporters to portray him in a positive light."

"That's why I have a publicist," Cash reminds me. "It's their job to deal with what can and can't be asked by the media and to protect me from being exploited. I know you care, Mittens." He drapes his arm along the back of my chair with a smile.

"Does Dad know about this?" I ask.

"I mentioned it to him in passing, and he seemed okay with it," she says. "I'm pretty sure nothing fazes him anymore after he found out about you and Cash."

I frown. "No one needs to know our business any more than they already do."

"It would help promote Louis's major league hockey career. And it could help spin Cash's reputation from ice-goon alcoholic to a successfully recovering sweetheart." She winks at Cash.

"I'll do whatever you want, Mittens," Cash says. "I mean, positive media coverage would be nice for a change. And I'd get to reiterate to the world that you're my girl."

"Exactly." Lyndsey smiles and then reaches across the table and holds my hand. "Please, Quinn?"

I look around the table at the three of them. Lyndsey was pleading, Louis was laughing, and Cash gave me another wink.

I sigh. "Fine. I'll do it."

"Yay!" she squeals. "I'm calling her back right now. She'll book her flight and be in Boston by tomorrow."