I always knew moving away from my family wasn’t something I could avoid. Even so, the idea of something and the reality of it are two different things.
Winding up in Vancouver was always the plan, but I didn’t expect it to become a reality so soon. My father was a huge Vancouver Warriors fan. There’s still a room in the basement of Ma’s house filled to the brim with his collection of signed NHL merchandise and jerseys. I’m pretty sure that nothing has been touched since before he passed away, nor do I think that it ever will be.
Despite having ten years to grieve him, I’ve never gotten to that point. The point where I feel okay enough to enter that room and be bombarded by the things he loved almost as much as he did us. I’ve accepted that he’s gone—how could I not after ten years?—but I’m not naive to the fact that entering that room and packing his stuff away will break the last connection I have with him.
Even though I can’t get myself to go inside that room, I could decide to do everything in my power to play for his favourite team. A ridiculous idea, in hindsight, considering you don’t get to choose which team you get drafted to in the professional hockey league, nor is even getting drafted guaranteed. But success is in my blood. I won’t stop until I get there. And while my dream is to play for the Warriors, I know my dad would have smacked me upside the head if I complained about being drafted anywhere else.
With so many thoughts and pressures stacking up since moving here, this clearing in the woods has become a safe haven of sorts. A quiet place where I can be alone, with nothing else to focus on but the lapping of the lake on the rocky beach and the wildlife trotting through the trees.
Finding this place after driving aimlessly with a head clogged with unwanted thoughts was a complete accident but a welcome one.
The hoot-hoot of an owl somewhere in the trees pulls me out of the sandpit in my mind. Ava shifts beside me, her arm brushing mine when she leans back on her hands and tips her head back, staring at the black sky. The stars are out in clusters, no longer blocked by the city’s towers.
“Are you cold?” I ask Ava, my voice gruffer than I expected. With the blanket beneath us keeping the damp grass from wetting our pants, we’re left with nothing but our clothes. It’s not too cold, but I have no intention of letting her freeze in the wind.
She turns her head enough for our eyes to meet. “I’m good.”
“Okay.”
“Are you cold?”
“I’m flattered by your worry, but I’m fine. My temperature usually runs hot.”
“I’m the opposite. Although, I can’t say that I take my temperature often. Not unless I’m so sick I’m on my deathbed.”
My brow twitches. “What kind of sick person are you? Whiny or stubborn?”
“Stubborn for sure. I’ll wait until I’m so sick I can’t get out of bed before I’ll admit to not being fine.”
“That was my guess. You don’t seem like the whining type,” I admit. A flicker of humour travels across her face.
“What kind of sick person are you?”
I pretend to think about it before saying, “Neither. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve gotten sick, but I’m definitely the sleepy type. Until I get better, I sleep day and night.”
“That easy, huh?” Ava asks, and I nod. With a small smile, she looks back at the sky and sighs. “I’m happy you took me here. It’s peaceful.”
“And a great place to clear your head.”
“Do you do that often? Need to clear your head?”
Her question comes off innocent, but I know better than that. She’s digging, which means she’s curious about me. At least a little. But I’m not up for cracking myself open and letting my secrets fertilize the forest floor tonight.
I slide my knees in toward my chest and sling my arms over them. We’re sitting in front of the small lake, a few feet from the rocky shore. Lush trees blanket us on both sides, almost like they’re hiding the lake from intruders. I almost feel bad for disrespecting their privacy before I remember they’re fucking trees and mentally slap myself.
“You never told me you were from Vancouver.” I change the subject.
She nods. “There was a lot we didn’t talk about that night.”
“True. Someone got too tired to stay awake.”
“It’s not my fault I spent an hour crying in some jock’s bathroom.”
I stiffen at the reminder. “How have you been with that?” She looks at me, confused. “With the breakup, I mean.”
Her eyes fall to the ground, making me frown. “It gets easier.”
“Has he tried to talk to you at all?”
“He didn’t stop trying for a few weeks after we got home. But I think getting the cold shoulder for so long is too harmful to a man’s pride to continue trying. Thank God for that.”
“Good. Fuck that guy. Are you still sure you don’t want to tell me who he is?”
Her eyes go wide. “Yeah. Very sure,” she rushes out.
Suspicion licks my spine. “You’re acting very suspicious right now, Ava. But I’m feeling generous today, so I’ll let it be.”
“Wow, thanks.” She laughs.
I stretch my legs back out and lean back on my hands, turning my head to stare at her. Our eyes meet as I lean closer to her. Her breath hitches, and a spark of success fills my veins.
The smell of her perfume hits me, and I hold back a groan. Sweet and spicy. Just like her.
I lower my voice. “You should know, though, that I do plan on finding this guy. And when I do, I’ll make sure he’s sorry for what he did to you. You deserve better.”
“O—okay,” she breathes, nodding slightly.
Our closeness is alarming, but I push that thought to the back of my head. I smirk. “How’s your ass feeling?”
Her eyes bulge as she pulls back and bursts out laughing. “What?”
“You know, from sitting on the ground? Are you wet at all? Because of the grass, of course.” I hold back my smile, feigning innocence.
“It’s a bit numb. But dry, I think,” she sputters.
“That’s good. We wouldn’t want you getting wet out here.” When her cheeks turn a bright apple red, I bark a laugh and nudge her playfully with my shoulder.
“You’re a jackass,” she groans, tucking her face in her sweatshirt.
I lift a shoulder. “Nah. Just wanted your opinion on my flirting skills. I’m pretty shit, huh?”
“I wouldn’t go that far. Maybe rusty, but not terrible. I’m sure there are tons of willing girls that would sell a limb for the chance to help you with your lines and whatever else you wanted.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
I wince. “Lucky me.”
“You don’t have to play coy with me. You’ve already dragged me out to the middle of the woods with you. The least you can do is be honest.”
A muscle in my jaw flutters when I tense it. It’s not anger that’s clawing my insides. It’s disappointment. Ava’s perception of me couldn’t be more wrong.
“If I wanted an easy lay, I wouldn’t be here with you. I would have taken up one of the many offers I’ve gotten today and slipped my dick inside someone by now. I don’t think with my dick, Ava.”
Her gulp is audible. “Oh. Okay.”
Trying to relax, I heave a breath. “I have too much going on in my life to be chasing girls. I enjoy your company. I did three months ago, and I still do just as much right now. You don’t look at me with dollar signs in your eyes. And you don’t give a shit about my future and what I might give you in a few years. That’s why I’m here with you.”
She’s so tense I worry she’ll break in half. Guilt churns in my stomach, assuming that maybe I said too much. But when she shifts her body toward me and brings her eyes to mine, I know she isn’t upset with what I said. She actually looks pleased.
“Okay, I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.”
“Be honest with me for a second,” I mumble.
“I’m always honest with you.”
I smile at that. “When you first saw me at that party, what was your first impression?”
She sucks in a sharp breath through her mouth before releasing it through her nose. Her blunt, black-painted nails tap against her thigh.
“I wanted to turn around and leave,” she admits. “I didn’t know who you were, but I mean . . . look at you. I knew you were a hockey player. We’ve established my opinions there already.”
“Look at me?” I tease. She blushes. “Was that a compliment?”
“You would only pay attention to that part.” She shakes her head, but I catch her smile.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I have her knee beneath my palm. She tenses in my grip, and I quickly release her. What the fuck, dude?
“I think it’s safe to assume that I’ve proven your assumptions wrong, then?” I ask stiffly.
“Why would you say that?”
“You’re here.”
She releases a slow breath and looks at me softly. “Yeah. I’m here.”
It’s late. Too late to be dropping a girlfriend back at her apartment without her roommate asking questions, but I couldn’t care less. There was no way that I was bringing Ava home before we were both too exhausted to keep talking. I haven’t enjoyed just talking and being with someone this much in a very long time.
“How long have you and Morgan been best friends?” I ask. “Matthew talks about her all the time. He’s obsessed with her.”
I sneak a glance at her and watch as she smiles, picking the black nail polish off her fingernails.
“About five years. We went to high school together. Morgan loves him, so I’m glad to hear that it goes both ways. I was worried when she first told me about him. You already know how I feel about jocks, so I won’t bother explaining the reason why.”
I nod, flipping on my blinker and pulling up along the curb in front of the girls’ apartment building. The lights are still on in the living room, and I relax a bit knowing she won’t be home alone.
Putting the truck in park, I face her. Ava unbuckles her seat belt and shifts in her seat until she faces me. The streetlights cast a faint glow across her face, softening her tense expression. When she slips her bottom lip between her teeth and bites down on it, my cock fills with blood, and I nearly rip off the steering wheel. Fuck. Not good.
“Morgan’s probably waiting for you,” I blurt out, tearing my eyes away from her and squeezing them shut.
The urge to wince is almost unbearable, but I somehow ignore it. I’ve made a total asshole out of myself, but I’m not about to let myself get hard because of her. That’s definitely not a friendly thing to do.
“Yeah. You’re right.” Her voice has frozen over. “Thanks for tonight.”
She’s opened her door and hopped out of the truck by the time I say, “I had a lot of fun, Ava. I’ll see you around.”
Her smile is nothing more than a slight tilt of her mouth, but I soak it up nonetheless.
“See you around, Boy Scout,” she says. Then she’s gone.
