Page 5

FIVE

As soon as I hear the front door shut behind me, strong arms wrap around my waist and I’m lifted off my feet. Ryan hugs me from behind and spins. I feel tiny and secure tucked into his big body. A genuine laugh escapes me, catching me off guard. It’s the closest to joy I’ve felt since the breakup.

“Hannah Banana, it’s so good to see you.” His deep voice rings in my ear, as his minty breath fans the side of my face.

“Still with the nicknames.” I try to sound stern, but my giggle betrays me.

He places me back on my feet, and I turn, giving him a proper hug. I pull back to see his face but don’t release the hold I have on the back of his neck. He’s so handsome. I’ve always thought so. He has a scruffy charm yet manages to look polished at the same time. One of the lucky ones who can roll out of bed and still somehow look put together. “It’s good to see you too, Ry. So where are we off to?”

“Well, I thought we could pick up a pizza and beer and have a picnic on the beach. Does that sound okay?”

“Sounds perfect. You know I will never say no to pizza. There’s a great place not far from here. I’ll direct you.” I head toward the Jeep while pulling out my phone to place a pickup order.

He follows me to the passenger’s side, which I find strange. How sad that a man opening a door for me is out of the ordinary. Even after years in Texas, none of the Southern charm rubbed off on Jace—he never picked up the memo about opening doors, pulling out chairs, or walking on the street side.

Even as a college kid, Ryan always did those little things, but it’s been so long since we’ve spent real time together that I’d forgotten.

Ryan opens the door and reaches around me, grabbing a white pastry box from the seat before placing it in my hands. There’s an embossed sticker I would recognize anywhere: Le Petit Sweet.

I blink, trying to clear the blur from my eyes, but the tightness in my throat only gets worse. Why is such a small gesture making me so emotional? I can’t remember the last time Jace did something small yet thoughtful. With him, everything was for appearance’s sake, another scene for the public to witness.

I hate that no matter how hard I try to shake him from my mind, everything circles back to him. Why didn’t he ever see me the way I needed to be seen? Why did he make me feel like I was never enough? Why didn’t he bring my favorite brownies just to put a smile on my face? Even if it’s an overly emotional, teary-eyed one. Most importantly, why did I just accept the crumbs he offered without question?

“You got me a brownie?” I ask, looking up at Ryan.

He runs a hand through his chestnut brown hair, which looks longer than usual, and shifts on his feet. “Brownies. Who eats only one—” His words cut off as he gently brushes his thumb over the moisture collecting on my lashes. “Oh shit, I thought they’d make you happy, not cry.”

I laugh, but with the swirl of emotions going on, it sounds a bit hysterical. “They make me happy.” I wipe the remaining tears from my face and lift to my tippy toes to kiss his scratchy jaw. “Thank you.”

He eyes me skeptically, then nods in acceptance before tucking me and my brownies into the car. While he’s focused on driving, I take him in. He’s wearing a black T-shirt, the fabric hugging his muscular chest and arms, decorated with a handful of tattoos—some looking fresher than the older ones I remember. His jaw, which I expect to be stubbled with his signature five o'clock shadow, is grown out into what I’d guess is a couple of weeks' growth. I notice a healing cut on his brow. It somehow only adds to his overall appeal. He looks over at me, his warm brown eyes meeting mine. When he raises his brows in question, I remember I’m supposed to be giving him directions. “Oh, turn left here on Clematis.”

“Do I have something on my face?” He runs his hand over his mouth.

“No, you’re good. Just taking in your beauty,” I joke, and he rolls his eyes. “It’s just up there, on the corner. I ordered ahead, so I can run in to get it if you want.”

He glances at me, eyebrows furrowed, like he’s trying to solve a complicated equation. Reaching into the back seat, he grabs a baseball cap and pulls it low, partially hiding his eyes from view. “Nah, I got it.”

“I don’t mind getting it. I know how annoying it is if people recognize you.” Bending over backward for others has become second nature after years of practice. It’s like a bad habit I can’t break.

He chuckles. “Hannah, no one’s going to recognize me, and if they do, who cares? Come on, come with me. I only have you for a couple of days; I don’t want to waste a minute.”

He reaches across me, unbuckling my seat belt, and then pushes my door open. The brief contact he makes with my hip makes my belly clench.

The sun sets over the water, painting the sky in cotton-candy shades as we walk down the beach, pizza and beer in hand. I don’t miss the constant heat and humidity of Palm Beach, but nights like this, when it’s warm with a crisp edge to the air, remind me why I love this place. The sound of the waves grows louder as we get closer to the water. As we look for the perfect spot, I kick off my shoes, letting the cool sand squish between my toes.

We settle near the shoreline, close enough to see the clear blue waves. I take a slice of pizza and hum as the cheesy goodness meets my tongue.

Ryan shifts slightly from where he sits beside me and clears his throat. “So, you wanna tell me what happened?”

“I already told you what happened.”

The last thing I want to do is talk about Jace with Ryan. Over the years of our friendship, we’ve kept certain subjects off-limits. My relationship and his, if he’s had any, are things we don’t delve into. I know Ryan’s not a fan of Jace. Their falling out isn’t a secret, but neither of them ever told me what caused it.

“Not really. You just told me he wanted a break,” he says, turning toward me.

“Well, I can forward you the article with all the details. I mean, that’s where I learned about it all.” I can’t help the huff of annoyance that leaves me. “Clearly, he didn’t like being committed, at least not to me, and giving up the perks of the job.”

“Believe me, the perks aren’t that great.”

“Yeah, okay.” I can’t help but narrow my eyes. I’m not clueless—I understand the appeal of beautiful women falling at your feet. I just thought what we had was stronger than that.

Ryan shrugs. “I’m serious. It’s fun at first, sure, but it gets old fast. You get to a point where you wish you had someone to come home to, someone to call after the game, someone to actually share your life with. Not just a string of cheap thrills.”

“Well, not according to Jace.” I shake my head. If only the motion could actually shake the memory from my brain. “I’m not just mad at him. I’m mad at myself for letting things get this far, for giving him so much power over me for so long. What do I have to show for myself without him? I’m starting from scratch, and I can’t stop kicking myself for it.”

“Hannah, this is not on you. You did what you thought was right at the time. It didn’t work out how you imagined, and that sucks. Now, you just figure out your next move. What’re you thinking?”

He makes it sound so simple. I can only plot my moves forward, and vow not make the same mistake again.

“Well, you know I hate this influencer gig. Maybe it would be different if I had chosen it myself, you know? If I were popular for something I was passionate about. But people only follow me because of him. It’s just one more thing I did to keep him happy. He thought it’d boost his image and help with sponsorships, and I went along with it like always.”

“Well, this is your chance to start fresh, right? You can do whatever you want now.”

“Right. So, I’m going to move back to Chicago?—”

“You are?” he interrupts, with wide eyes, his brows practically hitting his hairline.

“Mm-hmm.” I hesitate, not having said the words out loud yet. But Ryan has always been supportive of my dreams—who better to share it with? “I’m thinking about finally launching my dog rescue. Remember the one I always used to talk about? Highway to Home Rescue.” I take a deep breath, feeling a sense of excitement and resolve building. “I want to actually do it, not just keep dreaming about it. The overpopulation of dogs in the southern states is only getting worse, and I want to help. I’ll be transporting, fostering, and finding them homes in Chicago.”

“Of course I remember. I remember everything you tell me,” he says in a low voice.

I run my hands through the sand, avoiding his eyes. “Living in Texas only made me more sure of it. You wouldn’t believe how many animals they had to euthanize at the shelter I volunteered at, Ry. It was heartbreaking.”

He grabs my hand, my clammy palms making the sand stick, prompting me to meet his eye. “It’s perfect for you. If you need help with the launch, I’m here for whatever you need.”

“Thanks, but I want to do it on my own. I’ll figure it out.”

“I know you will,” he says, sounding more confident in me than I feel. “Where will you be staying in Chicago?”

“I started looking for places online. I’ll probably find a roommate so I have the funds to launch the rescue.”

I have enough saved to get by for now. Jace always supported me, and the money I made was mine to do with as I pleased, so I’ve built a decent nest egg. But I know how quickly that will disappear in the city. And if I’m serious about launching my rescue, I’ll need every penny to get it off the ground.

“I’ll be your roommate. Move in with me,” he offers without a second of hesitation. Just what I need—to be kicked out of one hockey player’s home and jump straight into another’s.

Ryan is not the same , the little voice in my head says, but I can’t trust it’s not the same one that steered me wrong all those years ago with Jace.

“You’d want a roommate?” I ask.

“Sure, if the roommate is you. I’ve got the space, and you want to save money on rent, right? My place is free. Problem solved.” He makes it sound so simple.

“Don’t you have a one-bedroom?” I ask, remembering teasing him for his modest setup when he first moved in. Living with him doesn’t sound like the worst option, but sharing a bedroom? A bed? No way.

“Nope, I’m actually moving to a bigger place.” His eyes ping-pong between the beer in his hand, my face, and back again. “It’s one of those brownstones. You know, the ones we used to walk by, and you’d always say how much you loved. One of those.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.

Is he trying to persuade me with a brownstone? Is it working? At least I wouldn’t feel so intrusive knowing he has the extra space. With multiple floors, we wouldn’t get in each other’s way, especially if he had dates over. The thought alone makes my stomach dip. He hasn’t mentioned it, but there were photos of him with that model this past summer. If the online gossip is true, they were dating. Maybe they still are.

He takes my silence as an opportunity to sell me further on the idea. “I was actually thinking of getting a dog. A rescue dog. He or she can be your first rescue. Rather than paying rent, you could take care of them when I’m on road trips, so I don’t have to hire a sitter. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

For whom? I get a brownstone, a dog, and a place to live. With my best friend. And he has to give up his space and privacy for what? A dog walker? “I don’t know, I’ll think about it,” I say, mostly to move past the subject. I couldn’t really live with him, could I?

“Okay, my vote is yes, for the record.” He grins at me.

“Noted.”

His eyes dart down to his lap. “So, where are you planning to stay for All-Star?”

“Oh, I was just going to drive back and forth. I don’t have as many obligations as you, so I didn’t bother with a hotel.”

He clears his throat. “You can say no… but I was hoping maybe I could convince you to come back to Sunrise with me? I got you your own room. Well, a room in the suite I booked. I just want to spend time with you when I’m here, and your parents’ house is pretty far from the arena. If we’re in the same place, we can hang out more.” He finishes his speech, taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair before sliding it back on, this time backward. What is it about a backward baseball cap? It’s a good look on him.

It would be nice to avoid the daily drive and spend time with him, but I don’t want to cramp his style. I know how these weekends are; it’s one big party. I definitely don’t want to be Ryan’s wingwoman. That sounds worse than the possibility of seeing Jace.

“I don’t know. Don’t you have plans? I don’t want to be in your way.”

“No plans. We’ll do whatever you want. You could never be in my way. I want you in my way.” He chuckles and slings an arm over my shoulders, looking down at me. His eyes take on a hazel tint from the reflection of the sunset. “You know what I mean. C’mon, Sunshine, it’ll be a test run for our future cohabitation.”

“You’re really confident about that yes,” I say. Ryan’s arm slips from my shoulders as I stand, brushing sand off my butt while glancing down at his eager face. I can’t say no to that face. “Okay, fine, let me grab a bag from my parents’ place, and then we’ll go.”

He jumps up so fast he has to take a couple of steps back to avoid falling over and pumps an arm in the air. “Hell yeah!”