Page 30 of Rookie’s Redemption (Iron Ridge Icehawks #5)

"Ten-thirty. Bus leaves at noon for the airport."

"And you'll call me when you land in Chicago?"

"I'll call you when we take off, when we land, and probably three times in between," I promise, settling across from her with my own plate. "You sure you'll be okay handling the renovation chaos solo?"

"Please. I managed that shelter for years before you showed up with your questionable repair skills." She grins, stealing a piece of bacon from my plate. "Besides, Bear promised to keep an eye on things. And Marcus is bringing his son by to meet Zeus after school."

I try not to react to the mention of Bear, the mountain of a man who seems to find excuses to flex his impressive muscles whenever Mia's around.

The rational part of my brain knows I have nothing to worry about. The less rational part wants to mark my territory like a fucking animal.

"Just remember," I say, reaching across to squeeze her hand, "if you need anything—"

"I know. Call you. No matter what time, no matter how stupid the problem seems." She turns her hand palm up, linking our fingers. "And you remember that missing me doesn't mean you should play like shit just to get home faster."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Coach would bench me permanently if I blew a game because I was distracted by my girlfriend."

"And don't forget, my parents are fifteen minutes away if you need anything. Mom's already planning to drop off casseroles at the shelter while I'm gone." I roll my eyes fondly. "Pretty sure she's more worried about you starving than me scoring goals in Chicago."

Mia laughs. "I know. Your mom texted me a full emergency contact list yesterday."

A loud banging on the front door interrupts our breakfast peace, followed by the unmistakable sound of Blake Maddox inviting himself into my house without waiting for permission.

"Scott! You better be packed and ready because Coach is already—" Blake stops dead in the doorway to the kitchen, taking in the scene of domestic bliss. "Well, well. Look at this cozy setup."

Behind him, Connor appears with the kind of shit-eating grin that means trouble. "Aww, how cute. Rookie's playing house."

Heat floods my cheeks as both guys survey my kitchen—and by extension, my entire life—with the critical eyes of people who clearly have their shit more together than I do.

"Morning, gentlemen," Mia says smoothly, completely unbothered by their intrusion. "There's coffee over there if you want some."

"Thanks, Mia, but we're just here to collect our wayward teammate," Blake says, then turns his attention back to me. "Ready to go, Bigshot?"

"Almost. Just need to grab my bags from upstairs."

"I'll get them," Connor offers, already heading toward the stairs. "Where—oh, Jesus Christ, Ryder!"

His voice carries down from the second floor, followed by the sound of him moving around up there. When he reappears a few minutes later with my travel bag, his expression is a mixture of horror and amusement.

"Dude. Your bedroom situation is tragic. Like, genuinely tragic."

"What's wrong with my bedroom?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

"You're sleeping on a mattress. On the floor. Like a college freshman." Connor shakes his head in disbelief. "How is this beautiful woman staying overnight in what basically amounts to a very expensive camping situation?"

I feel Mia's eyes on me, her expression carefully neutral, but I can see the slight flush in her cheeks that suggests she's embarrassed.

But is she embarrassed at the attention, or the fact that they're right?

"It's temporary," I mutter. "I just haven't had time to—"

"Bullshit," Blake cuts me off. "How long does it take to buy a bed frame?"

"And maybe some curtains," Connor adds helpfully. "And possibly some furniture that isn't made of cardboard boxes."

"Guys—" I start, but Blake's just getting warmed up.

They start picking my place apart, but all I can do is stare at Mia. Her eyes are locked on the one spot, and even though she's nodding politely along with the guys as the grill me to the core, I know exactly what she's looking at.

Our tree.

You only get one chance to make up for lost time.

Mom's words echo in my head as Blake continues his devastating assessment of my domestic skills.

"I'm not saying you need to have everything perfect," Blake continues. "But Christ, man. Buy a bed frame. Hang some pictures for goodness sake."

The worst part is, he's right. They're both right.

I've been so focused on winning Mia back, on proving I'm not the same selfish kid who left her, that I've neglected the basic adult responsibility of actually creating a home worth sharing.

"Okay," Mia says quietly, standing and collecting our empty plates. "That's my cue to escape before this turns into a full-scale intervention."

She kisses my cheek, completely ignoring Blake and Connor's pointed stares. "Call me when you land. And don't let these two idiots get in your head too much. I love you. No matter what."

"Easy for you to say," Connor mutters as she disappears upstairs to get dressed. "You don't have to share a hotel room with him when he's brooding."

After Mia leaves for the shelter, Blake and Connor help me finish packing away the dishes, though "help" mostly consists of continued commentary on my life choices and domestic inadequacies.

"I'm serious about the bedroom situation," Connor says as we load my bags into Blake's truck. "It's not just about impressing her. It's about showing her you're ready for the next step."

"What next step?"

Blake and Connor exchange one of those looks that suggests they know something I don't. Both these assholes have recently got their shit together. Maybe I should be listening more closely.

"Come on, Scott," Blake says. "You've been together, what, two weeks officially ? But you've been pining after this girl for nearly ten years, right? You really going to take your time working up to asking her to marry you?"

Marriage. There it is again, that word that should terrify me but somehow doesn't.

"I'm not..." I pause, because the truth is I am thinking about it. More than thinking about it. "It's complicated."

"No, it's not," Connor says simply. "You love her. She loves you. You're both adults with careers and life experience. What's complicated about that?"

You only get one chance to make up for lost time.

"The house," I admit finally. "I need to get the house finished. I need to prove I can build something permanent before I ask her to share it with me."

Blake nods approvingly. "Now you're talking sense. Get the house done, get your shit together, then put a ring on that woman before she realizes she can do better."

"Thanks for the confidence boost," I mutter, but I'm already making mental lists of everything that needs to be finished, everything I need to fix.

Six days on the road gives me plenty of time to think, to plan, to figure out how to turn my construction zone into the home Mia deserves.

Hell, maybe I'll even give that big scary fucker, Bear, a call.

He'd help… right?