Page 31 of Rookie’s Redemption (Iron Ridge Icehawks #5)

Chapter Nineteen

MIa

T hree days into Ryder's road trip, and I'm discovering that being a hockey girlfriend is a special kind of torture.

The morning routine at the shelter feels wrong without his surprise coffee deliveries. Instead of finding him leaning against the front desk with that boyish grin and two steaming cups from Chapter & Grind, I'm greeted by the usual chorus of barking and the low hum of contractors.

"Morning, Miss Harper!" Bear calls from where he's installing the last of the new kennel doors. The man's voice could probably shake snow off the mountains, but somehow every animal in the place seems to adore him.

Zeus is currently sitting at Bear's feet like a devoted disciple, tail wagging as he watches the big man work.

"Morning, Bear. How are those water dispensers coming along?"

"Should have them all connected by lunch," he rumbles, then grins down at Zeus. "Your boy here's been supervising. Haven't you, buddy?"

Zeus barks once, as if confirming his vital role in the construction process.

I'm checking on the puppies—now fat, healthy, and ready for adoption next week—when the front door chimes.

"Special delivery!" Emma's voice rings out, and I look up to see her balancing a tray of coffee cups and what appears to be half a bakery's worth of pastries.

"Emma? What are you doing here?" I ask, straightening up from the puppy pen where all four little guys are wrestling over a rope toy.

"Bringing you sustenance and making sure you haven't gone completely feral without your boyfriend around to…

um… civilize you." She sets the tray down on the front desk, nearly knocking over my stack of adoption applications.

"Also, Logan bet me twenty bucks that you'd be wearing Ryder's clothes by day three. "

I glance down at myself. The green Icehawks hoodie I'm swimming in is definitely not mine.

"Damn. He knows us too well," I mutter, accepting the coffee gratefully.

Emma grins. "Pay up, buttercup. I'll take my winnings in the form of you admitting you miss him desperately."

"I don't miss him desperately," I protest, but even I can hear how unconvincing that sounds. "I miss him... reasonably. A normal, healthy amount."

"Mia, you've checked your phone fourteen times since I've been here. That was three minutes ago."

Shit.

"I'm just... making sure he got to Detroit safely. You know how travel can be dangerous these days."

"Uh-huh." Emma settles into the chair beside me, clearly planning to stay for a while. "And how many times did you check to make sure he got to Chicago safely yesterday?"

"That's different. Chicago has terrible traffic."

"And when he gets to Boston?"

"Crime."

"Right. So there's something wrong with every city in the world now?"

I open my mouth to argue, then close it. Because the truth is, I've been checking my phone obsessively every twenty minutes, waiting for his texts like some kind of lovesick teenager.

I love hearing from him, love the little glimpses into his day, but they also remind me how far away he is.

"Fine. I'll admit it. This is harder than I thought it would be," I admit, sinking deeper into his hoodie. It still smells like him… that amazing, sexy scent that makes me want to bury my face in the fabric.

"Good harder or bad harder?"

"Both?" I watch Marcus emerge from the new quarantine room, giving me a thumbs up that suggests the electrical work is going smoothly.

"I love that he thinks to text me about random stuff.

Like yesterday, he sent me a picture of his hotel breakfast with the caption 'Not as good as my pancakes.

' But then I see him living this completely different life, traveling to these amazing cities, playing in front of thousands of people. .."

"And you wonder if small-town life is enough for him?"

Exactly. Trust Emma to cut right to the heart of my insecurity.

"I mean, look at this." I gesture around the shelter, which admittedly looks a thousand times better than it did a week ago, but is still ultimately a converted fire station filled with animals and the lingering scent of industrial strength disinfectant.

"This is my world. Rescue dogs and renovation chaos and a goat who probably belongs in therapy. "

As if summoned, a loud bleat echoes from the supply closet, followed by what sounds like Gandalf expressing his opinions about his accommodations.

"And his world is first-class flights and fancy hotels and arenas full of screaming fans," I continue. "What if being here starts to feel... small?"

Emma studies my face with that perceptive look that means she's about to say something that hits too close to home.

"Mia, do you know what Logan said when he decided to quit hockey and stay here with me?"

"That you're irresistible and he couldn't live without your cinnamon rolls?"

"He said he'd spent years chasing something that felt important, only to discover that the most important thing was right here all along." She squeezes my hand. "Ryder already chose you once, when he came back to Iron Ridge. This road trip? It's just his job. But you? You're his life."

Before I can respond, my phone buzzes with another text.

Ryder: This hotel looks like it was decorated by someone who really, really loves the color beige. Send me a picture of something colorful so I don't lose my will to live.

I can't help but smile, snapping a photo of one of the puppies wearing the ridiculous rainbow bandana that Zoe insisted on putting on him this morning.

Mia: Will this do?

Three dots appear and his response comes back immediately.

Ryder: Perfect. Tell him he's a style icon. Miss you x

"See?" Emma says, reading over my shoulder without any shame whatsoever. "That's not the text of a man who's regretting his life choices."

My phone rings before I can argue, and Ryder's name lights up the screen. My heart does that stupid fluttery thing it's been doing for three weeks now.

"I should take this," I say, already standing.

"Of course you should. And Mia?" Emma grins. "Try to sound like you're not completely miserable without him. At least play a little hard to get… men like him embrace the challenge."

I hurry toward the door, already answering the call as I push outside into the crisp afternoon air.

"Hey," I say, and I can hear the smile in my own voice.

"Hey yourself. Miss me yet?"

"Desperately," I admit, giving up all pretense of playing it cool. "How's Detroit treating you?"

I settle onto the bench outside the shelter, pulling his hoodie tighter around me.

"Like a city that peaked in the 1970s and hasn't gotten the memo that times have changed." He laughs and I can picture his smile. Cute, adorable and still devastatingly sexy. "But the ice is good, and Connor only fell on his ass twice during practice, so we're optimistic for the game tonight."

I laugh, and some of the tightness in my chest eases.

This is what I've been missing. Not just hearing his voice, but this easy banter, the way we can make each other laugh even when we're hundreds of miles apart.

"How much longer until you're home?" I ask, and immediately regret the needy note in my voice.

"Three more games. Three more cities. Three more beige hotel rooms." His voice softens. "But who's counting, right?"

I am. I'm definitely counting.

"I should probably head inside. Emma brought coffee, and if I leave her alone with the contractors too long, she'll probably start planning their weddings."

"Emma's there?"

"Yeah, dropped by with coffee. Probably just making sure I don't go completely feral without you around to civilize me."

"Tell her I said thank you. And Mia?"

"Yeah?"

"Video call me tonight. I want to see your face, not just hear your voice."

The warmth that spreads through my chest at those words is almost embarrassing. "I'd like that."

"Good. I'll be in my beige room around nine your time. Try not to let Bear flex his muscles too much while I'm gone."

"I make no promises."

His laugh follows me as I hang up and head back inside, where Emma is deep in conversation with Marcus. Because apparently, everyone in this town is an expert on everything.

But as I settle back into my routine, checking on animals and supervising renovations, I find myself storing up little moments to share with Ryder later.

Maybe Emma's right. Maybe this isn't about whether my life is big enough for him. Maybe it's about the fact that he's choosing to be part of it, hotel rooms and all.

The day seems to fly past, but nine o'clock still can't come fast enough.

I race out of the shelter, and the drive home feels endless, but finally I'm pushing through my apartment door, laptop already in hand.

I settle onto my bed, adjusting the angle of my laptop screen and smoothing down my hair. It's ridiculous how nervous I am for a video call with my own boyfriend, but three days apart has made me feel like a teenager again.

Right on cue, my laptop chimes with an incoming call.

My heart jumps as Ryder's face fills the screen. Even through the slightly wobbly hotel internet connection, he looks gorgeous. His hair is scruffy, and he's wearing a white t-shirt that clings to his shoulders in all the right ways.

"Ahhh… There she is," he says, his smile lighting up my screen. "God, you look beautiful. Even through this shitty pixelated hotel wifi."

"You're not looking too bad yourself," I tease, settling back against my pillows. "How was the game?"

"We won, which is the important thing. Though I spent half the first period distracted by a text from Emma."

I laugh, adjusting my laptop so he can see me better. "Emma? Why did she text you?"

"Yep. She texted me a forty-three-word update about the shelter renovations, including a detailed analysis of Gandalf's questionable personality and potential adoption prospects."

"Bear thinks he'd make a good farm goat if we can find the right family."

"Bear thinks, huh?" There's something in Ryder's voice that makes me grin.