Page 19

Rio

I’m the first one on the team bus after our afternoon game against New York. Even though our hotel is only ten blocks away, and the walk could potentially be shorter, it’s team policy to take the bus back.

My knees are bouncing while I wait for the rest of my teammates to finish their showers and postgame interviews because all I want to do is get back to the hotel.

Tonight is the night Hallie flies in to meet me. It’s been about a week and a half since we kissed, and I’ve been impatiently waiting to see her ever since. Wondering if she regrets that night or if, like me, she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

I don’t know what the hell happened or when it all shifted so dramatically. Maybe it was having her in my home for the first time, or when she helped watch my friends’ kids. Or maybe it’s the culmination of the time we’ve been spending together that’s reminded me of how much I missed her. Missed us . But the things I was so angry about only a month or two ago now seem inconsequential and unimportant.

All I know is that I want to see her, to be around her.

I was tempted to tell her the best day to meet me was the day after I left because that’s how impulsive I’m feeling with her, but I didn’t want Hallie to miss a Friday or Saturday night shift at the bar, assuming those are the nights she makes the most in tips.

Plus, choosing today means we have the night off, and with multiple teams within driving distance, we’re staying in the city for an entire week, instead of only a night or two like we do whenever we travel anywhere else.

I just had to be patient, which isn’t always my strong suit.

As I wait for the rest of my teammates, my phone rings. I’m expecting to see Hallie’s name on the screen, maybe calling to tell me she checked into the hotel, but it’s not her. It’s my mom.

I’ll admit, I haven’t been answering her calls as often as I usually do, and that’s entirely due to the fact she doesn’t know Hallie moved to Chicago. I don’t want to tell her, but I’m also terrible at lying to the woman.

Hence the avoidance, but it’s Sunday and I don’t go a Sunday without speaking to her.

So, I answer the phone. “Hey, Ma.”

“Hey, Ma?” she asks, outraged. “Hey, Ma? You avoid my calls all week and when you finally answer it’s with a ‘Hey, Ma’?”

I laugh. “Your accent gets thicker when you’re pissed.”

“Oh, you little shit. You’re going to put me in an early grave. You know that?”

“I’m sorry. It’s been a busy week.”

“Good game today, Tesoro . I saw that assist, but I’m still annoyed with you that you didn’t want me to come up to New York. It’s a short flight.”

“The airports are nuts this time of the year.”

“I could’ve driven. Taken the train.”

“Too much sitting. I’ll be in Boston on my next road trip. You and the whole neighborhood are coming to the game, right?”

“Of course we are. I can’t wait. I got these shirts made with your face on it and we’re going to be so loud, you’ll be able to hear us from the ice.”

“I have no doubt about that. See? You didn’t need to come today. You’ll see me play soon.”

She sighs. “At least next year you’ll be living here again, and I can go to every one of your home games.”

I try to keep my voice low because my teammates are starting to filter onto the bus. “Ma, I haven’t signed with Boston yet. That’s not a done deal.”

“Oh, Rio. Come on. We both know it’s going to happen. It’s your childhood dream! Don’t doubt yourself.”

It’s not my ability that I’m doubting.

I swiftly change the subject. “What’s for Sunday dinner?”

“Lasagna and a roast chicken.”

She mentions only two courses, but I know she’s probably whipped up about five.

“Your uncle Mikey has been here all day helping,” she adds.

“You let Uncle Mikey into your kitchen?”

“Oh God, no. But he did take out the trash, so that was nice. Changed a few lightbulbs that I couldn’t reach and tightened that loose stair railing.”

“Ma, I told you I would do all that when I got there.”

“I know, but he offered, so I figured it’d keep you from doing chores for me on your one day in town.”

I make a mental note to thank my dad’s brother when I see him next. With my mom living alone, I get worried about her keeping up that old house all on her own and try to do as much handiwork as I can when I go back to visit.

It’s not necessarily the appeal of fulfilling my childhood dream that has me considering free agency for Boston. It’s my mom being alone in that house and having no one to help her as she’s getting older.

Zee takes the row behind me, leaning forward and crossing his arms on the back of my seat. “Oh, is that—”

I slap a hand over his mouth before he can say Hallie’s name, trying to silently communicate not to say shit about her. “It’s my mother .”

“Oooh,” he draws out, understanding. “Hi, Mrs. D!”

“Hi, Zee!” Pulling my phone away from my ear, I put it on speaker. “Are you going to come see me when you’re in town?”

“Absolutely. Stevie is bummed she won’t get to see you, though.”

“Oh, I miss her. I miss all of you. I need to plan a trip out to Chicago soon.”

“We’d love that.”

A text drops onto the screen and we both look down to see Hallie’s name.

H ? : Just checked into the hotel.

I give Zanders that look again, silently begging him not to say anything while my mom is on the line.

“Rio, honey, I’ve got to get going,” she says. “The neighborhood is starting to show up for dinner.”

“Okay, Ma. Have a good time. Love you.”

“Yeah. Okay. Love you too.” She rushes me off the phone before her loud Italian voice excitedly calls out someone’s name—whoever just walked through her door—before she hangs up the phone on me.

“Are you sure your mother even loves you?” Zee asks over my shoulder.

“Fuck off. Yes, she just loves the neighborhood ladies a little bit more than her only child.”

The bus finally starts moving so I find my text thread with Hallie.

Me: On our way. See you soon. Dinner reservation is at eight.

“She’s already got the red heart emoji in her contact name?” Zee whistles. “You got it bad, my guy.”

“It’s for her last name. Hart. H—Heart. It’s a thing from when we were kids.”

I definitely didn’t consider my friends looking over my shoulder and reading my texts when I updated her contact to match the way she used to sign her mixtapes.

“You haven’t told your mom that Hallie moved to town?” Zanders asks.

I shake my head to tell him no.

“She wouldn’t be cool with you two spending time together again?”

My sigh is heavy. “Not even a little bit.”

He’s silent for a moment until he nudges me on the shoulder. “I know your relationship with your mom could not be more different than the nonexistent one I have with mine, so I might not seem like the best person to give this advice. But if anyone told me not to spend time with Stevie, I’d be quick to reevaluate that person’s importance in my life. I know you love your mom, we all love your mom, but you’re a grown-ass man now, Rio. At a certain point, our parents’ opinions can’t be more important than our own.”

“Rio!” one of my teammates calls out from the back of the bus. “Play some music for the drive.”

I grab my boombox, the same one I bring almost everywhere, and set it on the empty seat next to me. Starting it up, I let it play whatever is in there as I try not to think about my mom, Boston, or Hallie for the rest of the drive to the hotel.

My head has been reeling since that bus ride.

It’s not only my parents’ opinions that feel too important, but also my parents’ mistakes.

The two people who shaped my entire belief system, who shaped the way I view love, who I mirrored my own relationship off of, divorced six years ago and haven’t spoken since.

Childhood sweethearts. God, I could laugh.

I spent so much of the past six years chasing this fucked-up need to prove that love actually exists and I just had to try my hardest to find it. I blamed that need on Hallie when just as much of that blame, if not more, could be placed on my parents.

I completely zoned out during my shower and while I was getting dressed for dinner, moving on autopilot. The same could be said for the elevator ride down to the lobby, knowing the reason I’m so concerned about telling my mom that Hallie is back in my life is because I don’t want to hear what she has to say.

I’ve spent so much time being angry because she was upset. I felt protective of her in that way, but I don’t want to keep basing my decisions on her feelings. I want to move forward.

God, everything feels so fucking confusing. I tried to move on with my life, sold on the belief that Hallie was the enemy, but suddenly, that belief doesn’t feel so solid these days. All I know is that I haven’t felt so like myself as I have the past few weeks, seeing her again. Even when we’re fighting, even when I think about all the shitty things from the past, being with her feels like... home .

There’s this nagging part of me that’s questioning whether the homesickness I’ve felt for years now has been for Boston or if it’s actually been for her.

My head is still spinning, trying to organize itself, when the elevator opens and she steps out. She doesn’t see me—the hotel lobby is fairly crowded—but I see her.

And all that confusion, all that second-guessing is thrown out the window because I do know what I’m doing. I have only ever loved one person in my entire life and she’s here and fuck it, I don’t care about the rest. I want to know if this could be something. If we could ever forgive each other. If we could ever try again.

Unsurprisingly, she looks great tonight. Her hair is pin straight and cut sharply below her jaw. A black satin skirt and dark green peacoat dress her up, but the lace-up combat boots and graphic tee add the casual factor. Then you add all that mixed metal jewelry she loves to wear, and she looks... exactly like the girl I’ve spent most of my life dreaming about.

I stand from my seat, fix my suit, and that’s when she finally spots me.

“Hi,” she says with that signature Hallie smile, adjusting her bag over her shoulder.

“You look...” All I can do is nod.

“You look... too.” She gives me a once-over. “Are you wearing a suit to dinner? Or is that from the game?”

I can feel my cheeks warm as I run my palm over the back of my neck. “It’s a different suit than my game suit. My dinner suit, I guess you could say.”

“Is this place fancy? Should I change?” She throws a thumb over her shoulder towards the elevator. “I didn’t bring many other options.”

“No. No, Hal. You look perfect.”

I don’t think that does much to ease her worry about how nice this restaurant potentially is, and I can’t say one way or the other because I’ve never been there. I told Miller I had a work meeting with Hallie in the city tonight and needed a last-minute reservation. She asked me how professional I wanted to keep it, and once I told her I didn’t want this to feel professional at all, she called up a chef she knows and got us a table.

Hallie can call this a work meeting all she wants, but I’ll call it as it is. It’s a date. A chance to see if this thing could be real again.

Hallie adjusts the big bag on her shoulder, and when she does, I spot the sample booklets, notebooks, and laptop inside.

I slide it off her arm to carry it myself.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

“I made up some bullshit excuse about needing to make decisions in person, just so I could take you to dinner without having to wait two weeks to see you. The least I can do is carry all the stuff I made you bring.”

“I knew it.” Shaking her head at me, she bites back her smile. “This isn’t a date, you know.”

“Oh God, no. It’s a work meeting, Hallie. Focus, please.”

Together we start towards the exit, but I stop short of the door.

A nice restaurant is exactly the kind of place I’d plan to have a first date with anyone else. But this isn’t our first date and if I want it to feel like a date at all, it should replicate the ones we used to have. When neither of us had money and the only place we could spend time together privately was in each other’s bedrooms.

I slip my hand in hers to stop her from getting any further. “What do you say we forget about the reservation? We could change into sweatpants and order room service for dinner while we look at your design plans.”

A smile ticks on her lips. “That sounds a little more up our alley.”

My stomach flips at the casual use of our .

“You’re in the city for only one night,” I remind her. “Are you sure you’re cool staying in?”

“Well, you are the client. Whatever you say goes. I’m here to give excellent customer service.”

I lift an interested brow.

“Not that kind of service. Get your mind out of the gutter, DeLuca.”

“You put it there.” Keeping her hand in mine, I walk us back to the elevator, and I keep holding it even after I press the button and wait. “Try to remember that this is a work meeting, Hart. I don’t need you ogling me in my sweatpants the way you’re checking me out in this suit.”

The elevator doors open and a few of my teammates spill out.

Hallie instantly slips her hand out of my grasp and takes a step back, partially hiding behind me.

“Hey, Rio,” one of them says. “Are you coming out with us tonight?”

“Not tonight. I’m hanging out with—” I move out of the way, about to say Hallie’s name when our rookie interrupts.

“Hey, it’s the bartender!”

Huh?

“What are you doing here?” he continues.

Hallie’s face has never been more flushed than it is right now. Her smile is weak, and her eyes are downcast with embarrassment.

It’s absolutely wild to me that these guys, who I spend every day with, only know this woman, the same one who has consumed all my brain space for the majority of my life, as the bartender who pours their drinks.

An overwhelming surge of protectiveness surfaces. “You do know she has a name, right?”

Zanders comes out of nowhere and smacks him on the back of the head for me. “What if people only referred to you by your job title? Show a little respect, Rookie.”

He rubs his head. “You do call me by my job title.”

“Well, maybe we should be a little more precise and start calling you the winger who can’t win a face-off to save his life.” Wrapping my arm around Hallie’s lower back, I settle my hand on her hip, pulling her into me and not allowing her to hide. “This is Hallie. We grew up together back in Boston. She’s renovating the house you guys spend all your time at, so you can thank her for that. And yes, she also happens to bartend.”

“Hey, Hallie,” Zanders says, stepping up to give her a hug. “You two headed to dinner?”

She hugs him back. “Staying in, actually.”

“Wait,” the rookie cuts in again. “You’re the one redoing his house? Does that mean I can make a request?”

I roll my eyes. “No—”

“Because if we could have a few more TVs in the living room, that’d be great. Imagine a whole wall of screens! We would have the best Xbox setup. We would probably end up moving in there because we wouldn’t want to leave.”

“And that’s exactly why she’s not going to do that. The hockey frat house is growing up and going away. Maybe your place could be the new hangout spot, Rook.”

His eyes go big and bright.

I press my hand against Hallie’s lower back when the elevator opens and empties again. “We’re going.”

“What’s your name?” Hallie asks our rookie as she steps into the elevator with me.

“Mason.”

“Nice to officially meet you, Mason.”

He smiles at her with fucking hearts in his eyes. “Bye, Hallie. See you at your work soon, okay?”

I’m shaking my head as the doors close. Hallie presses the button for her floor, and I realize it’s the same as mine.

“See? There’s no need to be embarrassed around my teammates. They’re normal people. Well... sort of. If anything, Rookie should be the one embarrassed, thinking he has a shot in hell with you.”

She’s staring straight ahead, chin tipped up. “And who says he doesn’t?”

I whip my head in her direction. “Hallie. That’s not funny.”

She shrugs and I can see the smile she’s trying to hold back through the elevator’s reflection.

My mouth is still gaping when we get off on our floor.

I follow her to her room, leaning against the wall as she uses her key card to open the door so she can change into something more comfortable.

“Do I need to remind you about that kiss we shared the last time we saw each other?”

She laughs. “I’m not sixteen anymore, Rio. Just because we kissed doesn’t make me yours.”

I lift a brow. “Is that a challenge?”

“You can take that however you’d like.” She’s got this teasing smile on her lips as she slips into her room, closes the door, and leaves me alone in the hallway.