Chapter 23 Finn
FINN
EMPTY NET
Empty Net: An empty net happens when a team pulls its goalie late in the game, leaving the net wide open in a desperate attempt to score. It’s risky. It’s vulnerable. Perhaps I am, too.
I’m finally arriving at Kate’s concert. Due to our conflicting schedules, Kate always has a backstage pass for me. I text the person in charge, and security ushers me into her show. I follow a man in uniform down corridors, and I’m relegated to an area behind the stage, but I see her.
I’m mesmerized. She’s confident, entirely in her element, and when she belts out that final line—the one that always hits me right in the chest—I can’t look away. “Every road leads back to you.”
She thanks the audience and takes a bow. She exits the stage, and the set changes. By the time I make my way around to her, she’s standing near the back wall, half in shadow, a bottle of water in her hand, and her head is tilted down like she is trying to regain her breath.
Her slinky dress shimmers under the stage lights, and her makeup is smudged. She takes a breath and lets her brunette hair fall off her shoulders, allowing the cooler air to hit her neck. Her hair is now a wild mess of sweat and defiance.
But to me? She is a goddamn vision. And when she glances up and sees me, she is at a loss for words. Neither of us speaks right away.
When I step closer, she doesn’t move. She doesn’t run, but her face is hard. She looked at me like she wasn’t sure if I were real or just another thing she’d have to bury later.
“You came,” she said, her voice hoarse from the set.
I nod. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
Her eyes narrowed, a flicker of emotion she couldn’t quite hide. “That wasn’t exactly the best love song out there.”
“No,” I said, stepping into her space. “But it was you. And you’re amazing.” I step closer to her. “I’m sorry I forgot your concert. I came as fast as I could.”
She looks away like she’s going to blow me off. I don’t know what I’ll do if she does. I guess I’ll deal with it and work my way back somehow.
“You looked like you were born up there,” I mumble. “And I’ve never wanted someone more.”
She takes a deep breath, then she blows it out, calming herself. “I saw you here,” she whispers, “and I thought I imagined it.”
I shook my head. “I’m real. I’m here. I’m yours.”
She stands defiantly, and she swallows hard. Is she going to reject me? I hope she changed her mind and that the lump in her throat was a sign of her eating her disappointment and bitterness she’s feeling.
“How can I trust you when you forgot? I can’t sacrifice my career for you.
I promised myself I wouldn’t become my mother, hitching her star to the next boyfriend like he is going to carry her out of Pine Hollow and live happily ever after.
Don’t you get it? I can’t go back.” Her voice rises, but I get it.
She has every right to be pissed. “You forgot. I called you, and it went to your voicemail.”
“I know,” I murmur. “I was in the boat with the guys and the Stanley Cup. I screwed up. I’m not here because we make sense, or because it’s easy. Hell, I know I’m not perfect. I fucked up. But I can try harder. This is new to me, and I’m sorry.”
She stares at me like she is searching for the catch. But there aren’t any catches. I want her the way she is, and I’m prepared to wait for her to catch up to me.
She moves toward me, and when her fingers finally curl into my shirt, just a little, but just enough to make it intimate, I knew she’s forgiven me.
“Don’t ever do that again,” she whispers.
“Message received,” I murmur against her lips. “Please don’t run away again. Run to me, not away. Can you do that?”
Maybe she doesn’t believe a man like me wants her, but I’ll be damned if she’s walking away again.
“I’ll run to you, but I need to know where you are.”
“Done,” I reply. And this time, I kiss her like my life depends on it.