Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Summer:
Merry Christmas! we’ll wrap early
Me:
Merry Christmas
Was too optimistic
What time you thinking? It’s supposed to snow. It’d be better if you rode with me
Still here. Maybe go without me?
I’ll wait another hour
I’ll meet you there, okay? I don’t think we’ll be done anytime soon. I may be here forever if he’s waiting for me to get a spark of inspiration
All right. Text me when you’re leaving. Roads are getting bad
Hey, just got here. Have you left yet?
No
Hannah said dinner is in an hour. Do I need to come rescue you?
It’s nearly 5. Sign of life request
An hour and a half since that emoji.
I pocket my phone. Again. The fabric’s probably worn thin from how many times I’ve repeated the motion today.
“Was that Summer?” Mia asks. Fox leans in on her other side, arm hooked over the back of her chair. “She’s not coming, is she?”
“I haven’t heard from her in a few hours. Have you?”
Mia shakes her head.
“What’s wrong?” Helm’s voice carries across the table. “Your face is weird.”
Great. Now my worry, disappointment, and annoyance (at that damn producer, not Summer) are on full display. I drag a hand over my mouth.
“Thanks,” I deadpan.
But he’s already moved on, asking Ada about her son. She grumbles something about custody schedules and turns back to Natalie.
Volk is on Natalie’s other side, plating her food before doing the same for himself.
I still can’t get a read on the two of them. I’ve heard the guys gossip about what happened between them last season, but Volk’s stayed close-lipped, not confirming and definitely not sharing details.
Volk catches me watching and raises his glass slightly. “You are playing well.”
Something’s changed, and I’m trying not to think too hard about what. I’m not that superstitious. Still, I’m playing the best hockey of my career. Five games, four goals.
“We all have been,” I say.
“Yes. But you’re locked in.” He grabs the wine bottle and refills Natalie’s glass, topping off Ada’s too when she nods. “It’s good for the team.”
“Let’s hope we keep it going.” No winning streak lasts forever, no matter how much we want it to.
“Ilya, pass the wine down this way,” Fox’s dad calls from the end of the table, where he’s sitting with Mia and Logan’s parents. “Did you see his save on Tuesday? I’m telling you, if they keep it up, these guys are headed for the playoffs this year.”
“Pops,” Fox groans loud enough to carry over the chatter, “what did I tell you? Don’t jinx us.”
“On that note…” Logan rises at the head of the table. Hannah looks up at him with that in-love gaze they’re always trading. He pulls her up to stand beside him, then tucks her into his side.
“Thanks for coming,” he says. “Hopefully, this is the first of many holidays spent with you fools.”
The room erupts in laughter and easy chirps.
“And since it’s my party, I’m allowed to steal the spotlight.” Logan shoots Fox a look.
Fox has a habit of doing that. He picked their housewarming party to announce he was the newest bachelor on You’re The One. He shrugs, grinning. “Don’t tempt me, Lo.”
“We wanted to share some news.” Logan smiles down at Hannah as she pulls something from her pocket and slides it onto her finger. “Hannah agreed to marry me. Best Christmas present ever.”
“Whoop, whoop!” Natalie hollers, and Ada adds, “That’s right!”
Volk claps once.
Fox leans into Mia, murmuring, “I did it first,” followed by her smacking his chest playfully and then smoothing her hand over the spot.
Logan catches it. “Yeah, but I did it better.”
“You wish,” Fox fires back.
Hannah laughs. “Can we not turn our engagements into a competition?”
“Everything’s a competition with these two,” Mia huffs.
“Congratulations.” I raise my glass, and others follow. There’s a chorus of clinks before Hannah and Logan sit. “Okay, let’s eat,” Logan says, keeping his hand entwined with hers.
Logan is engaged. Fox is planning a wedding. Even Helm’s talking about more than just hooking up.
I’m happy for my friends. I really am. I just always thought I’d be one of them. Settling down. Fall in love, get married, have a family. The whole thing.
But I convinced myself I was better off alone. Safer that way. I almost believed it.
Lately, the want is too close to the surface, threatening to break free. What it might be like to come home to someone. To have a reason to rush back.
But the fear is still there, too.
Wanting something and being willing to take the risk for it aren’t the same thing.
Last time I let someone in, I fucked it up—got too focused on my own career, didn’t notice her pulling away until she was already gone.
What if I do it again? What if I’m still that guy?
The one who doesn’t know how to hold onto a good thing.
My gaze drifts to the empty seat on my other side. The one Summer should be in.
“What’s Tara doing for the holidays?” Logan’s mom asks.
I take the lifeline and tell her all about the romantic trip Jim planned for them, how she’s off work until the new year.
Dinner rolls on. The heavier thoughts don’t go away, but the noise helps.
I’m finishing the last of the ham on my plate when my phone buzzes against my thigh.
I yank it out of my pocket as fast as I’d jump on a rebound, and the disappointment lands just as hard as missing one.
Summer:
I’m leaving now, but I’m sure dinner is over
Plus, it’ll be midnight by the time I get there with the weather
I’ll see you when you get back
Me:
Drive safe. Text me when you get home, okay?
Summer liked “Drive Safe. Text me when you get home, okay?”
“I don’t need to ask if she’s going to make it. Your face says it all,” Mia comments, pulling my gaze to her.
“Yeah.” I hope I don’t sound as gutted as I feel, but I doubt I’m hiding much tonight.
“That guy needs to get a life,” she scoffs.
“Boone seems… intense.” That’s me being generous after the shit he pulled today.
Mia twists the stem of her glass. “Summer never complains, but I can tell it’s taking a toll on her.”
I nod, because what else is there to say?
I try to stay present, to enjoy the night with my friends, but I can’t stop thinking about Summer. She’s probably home by now. Alone. On Christmas.
I should be there.
Luckily, dinner’s wrapping up, so I don’t have to be a complete asshole and fake a stomach bug. No one would believe it anyway.
Natalie stands and gathers plates.
My chair scrapes loudly when I push back. “Sit. I’ve got it.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” She hands off the dishes and plops back into her seat.
I carry the plates into the kitchen, where Hannah and Logan are rinsing and loading the dishwasher in a little assembly line.
“Can I help?” I offer.
“Oh, no, you go relax.” Hannah gives me a warm smile. “We’ve got it.”
“He’s trying to escape,” Logan says. “Let him.”
“I’m not—”
“You’ve checked your phone at least six times in the last ten minutes.” He doesn’t look up from the dishes. “Go.”
“If you’re sure—”
Hannah nods, and Logan’s stare over her head says, Get out of here so I can be alone with my fiancée.
“In that case, I’m gonna head out.” I run a hand through my hair. “Would it be okay to take some leftovers for Summer?”
“Of course.” Hannah immediately starts pulling glass containers out of the cabinets and filling them with enough food to feed a family of four. “I was looking forward to getting to know her. If Mia likes her, she’s got to be something special.”
“She is,” I hear myself say.
Logan’s brows nearly hit his hairline, but Hannah just smiles wider.
“Maybe she’ll come to a game with us? Your seats are empty most of the time,” she says, then winces a little. “Tara and Jim are so much fun when they make it.”
“I’ll ask her. Her schedule’s kind of crazy right now, but it should ease up once they get into a groove.” I hope it does, anyway.
“I can only imagine the pressure she’s under.” Hannah snaps the lids onto the containers.
“She’s working with that famous country producer, right?” Logan asks.
“Boone, yeah,” I confirm.
“Taylor?” Hannah hums a tune that I don’t recognize. “I remember one of his songs from when I was in high school.”
“Oh yeah.” Logan nods. “What was that one called?”
She shakes her head. “I can’t remember. He’s good, though. I always wondered why he stopped making his own music.”
I shrug. Maybe I should look him up. All I know is what Summer’s told me, and right now, my only opinion is that he’s an asshole for keeping her in the studio on Christmas.
Logan wraps his arms around Hannah’s waist and pulls her close. She kisses him over her shoulder.
And that’s my cue.
“Thanks for this.” I take the bag she’s packed and make a quick round of goodbyes.
On the drive home, I go a little faster than necessary, every mile marked by the same thought:
Get to Summer.