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auburn

“Ledger Cole. We are not in Scotland.”

We were driving to our hotel in the middle of Grassmarket Square, and the cab driver insisted we had one of the best views of the Edinburgh Castle.

Ledger looked over at me, his hand not leaving my thigh. “I’m obsessed with haggis.”

“Ey, haggis?” the cab driver chimed in.

I had realized where we were headed once we were in first class seats and the captain told us we were set to land in Scotland, but I was still in complete disbelief. Also, traveling first class was definitely the cure to plane anxiety. I thought that sitting in the back of the plane I’d have a higher chance of not dying, but it was because I had no idea what was waiting for me at the front. There was so much space, and I was super rested.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“It’s the national dish of Scotland. It’s minced meat—a savory pudding of sorts.” The cab driver gave us a wink in the mirror.

“And why did we have to come here to eat it?” I turned to ask Ledger, whose dimples were so large.

“My mom’s Scottish, and she used to make a version of this back at home, but because sheep’s lungs aren’t allowed to be consumed in the States, we have to come here to get the best version.”

“Oh my gosh.” I laughed. I looked outside the window feeling like I was in a storybook with all the gloomy fog settling onto the dark stone buildings as we pulled into our hotel. As Ledger grabbed our bags and we walked in, I pulled him aside momentarily. “I’ve never left the country before.”

“I had Stassi break into your apartment?—”

“Oh, no big deal,” I huffed jokingly, trying to be mad at him, but how could I be mad at someone who flew me seven hours away to eat his favorite food?

“How did you find my address?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

“Okay…I had Alex ask Austin to help us figure out where it was, and we told him it was for an opportunity to play with the world team and you had to have your passport. She said she found your passport easily.” I narrowed my eyes at him. Emma had convinced me long ago I needed a passport in case I needed to run away from my narcissistic mother, but it was tucked neatly into a small drawer inside my closet.

“Hmm,” I said. “And Austin didn’t seem suspicious?”

I didn’t believe him. Austin might be young, but he wasn’t naive, so if Alex told him there was an opportunity to play abroad but he hadn’t heard it directly from his agent, I knew—call it mother’s intuition—that he would question it.

Ledger shrugged again. “I guess not. Told Alex where it was and then Stassi might have broken in and gotten it.”

I decided I’d chat with Austin when I got back to explain. With only four outfits packed, it meant we were here for three days. Since it was my first time outside the States, I was determined to make the most of it.

We made our way up the stairs to the hotel entrance, and I settled into one of the plush orange chairs while Ledger went to check us in. My gaze drifted out over the bustling street below. People-watching was a hobby I relished, each passerby a potential character in a story of my own creation. Some sauntered leisurely, as if time were an endless luxury, while others hurried past, caught in the urgency of their own lives.

Tourists were easy to spot, their curious glances drawn inevitably to the ancient castle perched majestically atop the hill, its weathered stones cloaked in moss. From my vantage point, it seemed to preside over the entire city.

“Sunshine?” Ledger’s voice broke through my reverie. I looked up to find his typically soft expression laden with concern.

“I wanted to make sure you were comfortable, so I’d reserved what I thought was the penthouse suite, complete with two rooms and two beds. But there’s been a mix-up,” he confessed, his fingers idly twisting together. Dressed in a matching black sweatsuit, his demeanor was unusually uncertain.

Ledger’s commanding presence towered over me. His dark locks cascaded in a disheveled veil across his face, framing features chiseled with determination. Beneath his eyes, faint circles betrayed the weight of a sleepless night from the airplane. Yet it was his whiskey-colored eyes that held me spellbound, pools of warmth and intensity searching mine. His presence was a symphony of contrasts—strength and fragility, darkness and light—melding into an irresistible harmony.

“It’s okay.” I stood, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him down closer to me. “We’re sleeping together, but I appreciate you looking out for me.”

“Always,” he whispered. “I’ll always look out for you.” He kissed me softly before grabbing our bags and heading up to the room.

There was something about this little life I was living. It felt so surreal, like I was the main character in my own story. I never deserved to be the main character. I was always the black sheep. I was never enough for anyone, including myself, so it was almost like I didn’t know how to be here.

As Ledger and I stepped into the elevator, I squeezed his hand tightly, my silent promise resonating in the confined space. “I’ll always give my all for you,” I affirmed, my voice steady with determination.

* * *

We may have both passed out the entire night and never made it to our dinner reservations, but we were up bright and early. Ledger was taking me to his favorite breakfast place with the best Scottish breakfast in the city with the infamous haggis, then we would go to Holyroodhouse Palace, a working palace for the King of England.

We walked a mile down the road to the restaurant, past all the buildings that were bright colors against the gloomy day. I paused as Ledger held open the door for me.

I drank him in. He was casual, wearing a pair of jeans and a black sweater with a green jacket over it. I was in a pair of leggings and an oversized black sweater that Stassi had packed with my green puffer. I couldn’t help but realize that we were matching and that was somewhat intentional.

But it wasn’t what we were wearing that made me pause. Ledger seemed perfectly happy. He looked carefree, and those dark lines he sported beneath his eyes seemed to have left overnight.

“What?” He laughed as he continued to hold the door open.

“You.” I gave him a little smile before we headed into the small restaurant.

As we stepped through the heavy wooden door, we were greeted by a blend of old-world charm and contemporary flair. The interior boasted sleek furnishings and minimalist decor, a striking contrast to the historical facade that hinted at centuries of stories whispered within its walls.

Seated by a window overlooking the mist-shrouded square, we had a front-row view of the bustling activity below. Across the way, government buildings stood with an air of stoic importance.

Ledger took charge of ordering, selecting two hearty Scottish breakfasts and pots of fragrant Earl Grey tea from our server, whose warm smile and thick accent added to the charm of the establishment.

“What’s on your mind?” Ledger’s voice broke through my reverie, his dimples teasing as he caught my gaze.

“You look different,” I said, leaning in so I was closer to him. “Have you been here before?”

“Twice when I was a kid.”

“You don’t talk about your family. Tell me about them.” Ledger smiled widely.

“I love my parents. They just aren’t around. Since I went pro, they have their own lives and I have mine.” I sighed. “They usually come to the last game of the season, but especially because this is going to be my last one. I guess I don’t have much to say because truthfully my entire life was consumed with hockey. I knew when I was young what I wanted to be, so I was forced to live and breathe hockey.”

Ledger paused, reaching out atop the table, his fingers opened as if waiting for mine. I placed mine into his, and his face seemed to conform to the comfort.

“I guess I never realized what life was going to be like when I retired. I knew this was the last year I had in me, but I don’t know what the future looks like. This sport has consumed me for so long I don’t know what I’ll do without it.”

He paused, then let go of my hands and gestured around him before huffing out a laugh. “Heck, the last time I was here, I was playing hockey when I was a kid, so it was never a vacation.”

I gave him an assured smile. “I understand what it feels like to be our age and feel like we’re at this precipice of starting over. It’s a fucking weird feeling like you’re balancing off the edge of the cliff and everyone wants you to jump but you have no idea what you’re jumping into.”

“Exactly, Sunshine,” he said, returning his hands to the table.

“You know, you’ve been great with Austin. Have you ever thought about coaching?”

Ledger shook his head.

“Too much pressure.”

“Sure, maybe at the professional level, but what about kids who aren’t there yet, like younger kids? You’re good with Damien,” I added, remembering how patient and kind at dinner he was with Stassi’s son.

Ledger shrugged. “Never thought about it, honestly?—”

“Two Earl Greys and a Scottish breakfast for you both,” the server declared with a warm smile as he approached our table, balancing the trays with practiced ease.

He set down the steaming pots of Earl Grey tea before us, the fragrant aroma enveloping our senses. Then, with a theatrical flourish, he presented the main event—the Scottish breakfasts.

“Allow me to introduce you to a true taste of Scotland,” he began, his voice tinged with pride. “On your plates, you’ll find sausages and thick-cut bacon. Alongside, we have golden-brown potato scones, crispy on the outside and fluffy within.”

His description continued, painting a vivid picture of the feast before us. He spoke of the perfectly cooked eggs, but what set the Scottish breakfast apart was the addition of haggis. Served in hearty slices, the server told us that the haggis boasted a rich, earthy flavor.

“It adds to the heartiness of the dish,” he added. The server described that it was made from a blend of minced sheep’s heart, liver, and lungs, mixed with spices, onions, and oatmeal.

“Finally, completing your breakfast are grilled tomatoes and mushrooms,” he concluded, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “A mixture of flavors and textures designed to fuel your day, especially after a night of drinking.”

He stepped back, allowing us to savor the sight and aroma of Ledger’s favorite meal.

“This is what you’ve been craving?” Ledger’s smile was so large as he leaned in, picking up his fork.

“Hell yes.” He paused. “Just try it.”

I shook my head. “I didn’t say anything. It’s new for me, but new doesn’t mean scary, does it?”

The meaning behind my words was far more than just the breakfast in front of us.

“You’re right. New doesn’t always mean it has to scare you.” The corners of his lips twisted into a smile before he picked his fork up again.

I followed suit. “You ready to dive in?”

I paused. I was. More than he ever would know.

“Let’s do it.”