1. Kai
Kai
Three years. It’s been three years since I’ve seen or talked to Kendall.
Not for lack of trying. I had called, emailed, and written her letters but had never gotten any responses.
Until last night. In the second period, down by a goal, I glanced past the puck looking to pass to Jax, and in the space of a millisecond, I spotted her beautiful face in the crowd.
In insanely expensive seats no less. She’d always drawn me in like the compass of an arrow pulled north.
My eyes snapped to her, registering her favorite green hoodie—before lowering to the child in her arms. It was almost like she wanted me to see her and the child she was holding.
He looked maybe two years old but that couldn’t be right.
A jolt of recognition gripped my spine as I took in the entirety of his features.
Kendall and I locked eyes, my deep brown to her swirl of hazel, and she froze.
Half a second later, I got slammed into the wall so hard I couldn’t breathe.
I woke up in the trainer’s office convinced it had all been a dream.
But he confirmed that I had actually been hit hard—hard enough to lose consciousness.
And the only person who was able to distract me long enough to break my laser focus and obsessive need to win was her.
Had she been real? God, I hoped she was.
Because the only thing I love more than hockey, than my career, than that feeling of freedom on the ice is Kendall James.