Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“You want to get married and have a family?”
“Are you proposing?” he asked, fluttering his eyelashes.
“Uh…”
“I’m kidding, hockey hunk. But to answer your question, yes…absolutely. I want the whole kit and kaboodle someday.” He pointed at another stack of snowflakes, thanking me when I wordlessly passed them over. “Don’t you?”
“Maybe. I guess. That’s so far in the future, I can’t picture it. I’m still looking for a way out of Elmwood.”
My offhand comment was meant to be a joke, but Ivan wasn’t amused.
He crumpled a snowflake and threw it at my head. “Elmwood isn’t your problem. It’s your inability to remove your head from your ass and realize that you’ve been given the gift of a second chance.”
“How do you figure?”
Ivan climbed down again to rescue the snowflake ball, painstakingly smoothing it out as he fixed me with an unreadable expression. “Maybe fate intervened and gave you a soft place to land and surrounded you with people who care about you. When you get a new agent and join a new team, you’ll appreciate it all the more because you’ll remember what it was like to feel stuck and out of options. I say enjoy this little impasse. It’s not permanent. It’s just…a moment.”
I was slightly taken aback by his heated response. I had a feeling I’d unintentionally hit a touchy subject.
“Are you stuck?”
“A little.” Ivan fiddled with the edges of the paper snowflake and shrugged. “Things are changing that I have absolutely no control over and…it’s scary. Sometimes I wonder what my life will look like in ten years. A coffee shop owner extraordinaire…and what else?”
“What else do you want?”
He had no way of knowing I’d never asked a lover that question before. It felt oddly intimate. But I was genuinely curious.
Ivan’s lips curled at one corner. “I want to be happy.”
“Aren’t you happy?”
“I am, but it’s hitting me lately that I’m alone and I work all the damn time. I’m sort of the same ol’ me in a lot of ways. I’m a loner. I don’t have a ton of close friends, and I’ve never been a team player.”
“That’s not true. Everyone loves you.”
His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “I’m friendly, and my coffee is amazing. Truth is, my world is small. I’m okay with that. I have my family and Stacy and—this business. I love this place and I want to see it grow, but…I really don’t want it to be the only thing I have. It seems so lonely.”
I nodded thoughtfully and studied the tiled floor for a beat, suddenly terrified he’d turn the question on me. Ten years from now, my career in hockey would be long over. Where would I be then?
Jeff, my asshole former agent, had liked reminding me that I was lucky to have a solid contract, ’cause a lot of players got paid by the game. Hockey was a seasonal side gig for them—a respite from their “real” jobs. One of the forwards on the Sea Snappers was a real estate agent, the goalie was an insurance salesman, and a couple of guys took online classes in fuck knows what.
To be honest, until now, the notion of a backup plan had confused me. It seemed like a cop out. Why would I want to think about law school or real estate exams when I could play hockey? I wasn’t exactly making millions, but I hadn’t cared. I’d had a place to live, a truck in my garage. Life had been good. Or at least it had been good enough for me.
The future was always coming for me, but I had time to work shit out. I’d be okay…I was sure of it.
For the first time since I’d come home, it occurred to me that I was luckier than I realized. Home had been my reluctant backup plan, but my family had welcomed me with open arms, I’d been offered a job at the rink and trained daily with professionals, and Ivan was here. And he was…pretty fucking incredible.
Huh…
“I think I know what you mean,” I said after a minute. “I guess I’ll have to figure out what besides hockey makes me happy.”
“You will.”
I chuckled softly. “You sound very sure of that.”
He winked. “I am. Think of me as the angel in your moment of crisis.”
I barked a laugh and snaked an arm around his waist, tipping his chin to meet my gaze. “Are your wings black or white?”
He propped his elbows on my shoulders and squinted. “Yes.”
I grinned before sliding my mouth over his, kissing him slow and deep. “I like you, Ivan Carmelo. I like you a lot.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.” Ivan blinked as if coming out of a trance and tilted his head toward the unshaded window meaningfully. “Careful. Anyone can see inside.”
The streets were empty but he was right. Thing was…I didn’t care.