Chapter 1 #2
Our other Bernadoodle, Bacon, wandered into the room as Bryn slapped my chest playfully before settling into a cross-legged position on the floor. Bacon climbed in her lap, as he had ever since he was a puppy. It was as if he thought he weighed twenty pounds instead of forty-five.
Both Bryn and I had each always wanted a dog.
But until recently, neither of us had been in the place to take care of a pet full time on our own.
When we’d jointly adopted Bacon and Biscuit, Bryn’s grief had still been fresh, and I was on the road a lot for games.
I’d hoped that a dog would bring us both comfort after losing Derek, and caring for them together had seemed like the perfect solution.
Now, a year in, I couldn’t imagine our lives without Bacon and Biscuit.
She gave Bacon some behind-the-ear scratches, and then he heard a sound and went to the window to investigate. Bryn groaned and flopped back on the floor, draping her arm over her forehead. “This isn’t funny, Bear.”
The dogs went over, licking her face until she was giggling. The sound was so light and full of so much joy that I closed my eyes as if to capture it in my mind. It was damn good to hear her laugh. I couldn’t help but join in.
Bryn sat up, paused, then lifted her hand as if to touch my cheek. Everything in me reached out to her as I held my breath, waiting for the moment her palm connected with my skin. When she hesitated, I remained still, trying to be patient.
“I forgot how handsome you are when you actually smile.” She blushed then, lowering her hand to her lap as she added, “It’s difficult to see your lips through all the fur covering your face.”
“Ha-ha,” I deadpanned, mostly to stop myself from begging her to touch me. “You’re not the first person to say that to me.”
The guys loved to give me shit for my play-off beard, and I laughed off their good-natured ribbing. Play-offs were over. Done. And yet, I couldn’t seem to make myself shave.
Florida had hoisted the Cup last month. And for some reason, I was still hanging on to my play-off beard as if it would bring me luck. Or change something. Fuck if I knew.
“I bet if you shaved,” Bryn said, breaking me out of my thoughts, “you’d be out with some woman instead of spending your off-season keeping me company.”
“Not likely,” I muttered.
It didn’t matter how many women hit on me—and the beard and long hair certainly didn’t deter them. There was only one woman I wanted.
“I still can’t believe you’ve been in LA for almost two years and haven’t dated anyone,” she said.
I had zero interest in dating someone. At least someone who wasn’t Bryn.
But it was difficult not to think of her as Derek’s wife. She’d been married to my best friend. My former teammate. My gut twisted with guilt.
I smoothed my hand down my beard. Derek, like the other guys on the team, would’ve given me shit for it. The thought made me smile, and I was grateful for times like this when I could think of him without feeling like I’d taken a frozen puck to the chest.
“Haven’t had time,” I said in answer to Bryn’s comment about my lack of dating, which was partially true.
The life of a pro hockey player was intense, especially during the grueling eighty-two-game regular season.
Not many people could understand the hours, the travel, the dedication involved.
It might be the off-season now, but that didn’t change anything—at least not for me and my interest in a romantic partner.
I’d been friends with Bryn for nearly a decade. It was only in the past year that things had changed for me.
“Do you have time for hookups?” she asked.
“Why?” I leaned forward. “You offering?”
I couldn’t believe I’d just said that. Why the fuck had I just said that? But it wasn’t as if I could take it back now.
She laughed. “I’m sure you have your fair share of puck bunnies to choose from.” She rolled her lips between her teeth then admitted, “I wish I could do casual sex, but I’m not sure I could keep my emotions out of it.”
That didn’t surprise me. Bryn and Derek had been a couple since her first year of college.
For nearly her entire adult life, they’d prioritized their relationship through undergrad, through her extra schooling, and when he’d gotten drafted.
She was definitely a relationship person, and that was why part of me couldn’t be too mad at her family for wanting her to find love again.
“And you still didn’t answer my question,” Bryn said.
I tried to remember what we’d been talking about. Right. Puck bunnies. “That lifestyle quickly loses its appeal.”
At least, it had for me. I’d tried a few hookups early in my career, but I’d only ended up feeling worse about myself.
Puck bunnies were only interested in bragging about the players they bagged. They didn’t care about me as a person. They cared about my status as an NHL player. Sure, I’d been using them for something too, but the entire experience made me feel…cheap.
“So does that mean you’re looking for a relationship?” Bryn asked, surprising me further.
“What’s with the interrogation?”
“I don’t know.” She ducked her head. “Just curious. You never talk about anyone, and I wondered if you were still hung up on Sheree.”
I barked out a laugh. Sheree and I had dated for a year while I’d lived in New York. But when I’d gotten traded to LA, I hadn’t asked her to move, and she hadn’t offered. Our relationship had run its course. Fizzled out.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“You know it’s a no,” I said, still wondering what was behind this fishing expedition.
“So then, why don’t you date?” Bryn asked.
“I told you. Don’t have time.”
“Mm.” She eyed me skeptically.
“What?” I nudged her foot with mine.
“You don’t have time to date—” Bryn nudged me back with her foot “—because you’re always with me.”
“I’m not always with you.”
Bryn narrowed her eyes at me, arms crossed over her chest. “Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with you. And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, truly. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to put your life on hold for me.”
“Bryn,” I chided.
“I’m serious.” She narrowed her eyes at me.
She really had no idea how I felt about her, did she?
Not that I should’ve been surprised. We’d grown close in the last year and a half, and at some point, I’d realized that she was so much more to me than just a friend.
But I’d never crossed that line, despite being tempted to. God, I was so fucking tempted.
Bryn tilted her head. “What?”
I love you.
I was tempted to blurt out the truth in that moment.
It wouldn’t have been the first time I’d been tempted, but I also knew a conversation like that would require some finesse.
Even if you ignored the fact that her late husband had been my best friend and teammate, Bryn was my friend.
She was important to me, and I was scared to ruin what we had for something she might not even want.
So, instead of confessing my feelings, I tried to get a sense for where she was coming from. Why was she asking me these questions? And why now?
“What?” she asked again, pressing when I still hadn’t responded.
“You’re annoyed with your family for bossing you around, trying to get you to date. And yet you’re doing the exact same thing to me.”
She looked away quickly. “That’s different.”
“How?” I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest.
She lifted her shoulder. “I already had my love story. You haven’t.”
I blinked a few times. It felt like watching a teammate get injured on the ice—gut-wrenching and brutal. Everything stopped, the world quieting around me.
She doesn’t truly believe that, does she?
But the longer we sat there, the more it sank in. The more I realized how convinced she was that she’d never love again.
I… I rubbed the back of my neck. Christ.
Her admission shattered something inside me, especially the way in which she’d delivered it with complete and utter sincerity. With just a few simple words, she’d upended my entire world.