CHAPTER TWO
GRIFFIN
“You waiting for your girlfriend to get out of the bathroom?” Piper’s voice floats past me, causing me to spin and shush her.
“Don’t start that shit,” I warn her. I’ve just had the most amazing hour of my life reconnecting with Casey Hart, so deep in conversation that we barely moved from our spot until she needed to use the restroom.
And yes, it may look like I’m standing outside the bathroom like a puppy waiting for its owner, but that’s not the case.
“We’re old friends who haven’t seen each other in a long time,” I go on in a low voice, unsure if Casey can hear me through the bathroom door. “Why is that so hard for you to grasp?”
“Because you’ve looked at nothing and no one else for the past hour,” Piper says in a duh tone. “I haven’t seen you this focused since the last championship game.”
I shake my head, feigning annoyance, but she’s not wrong.
I just don’t want to admit it. Right before I noticed Casey was here, Mom made a cryptic comment about my “girlfriend being in the barn.” It weirded me out because A) I’m single and have no intention of changing that, and B) it really seems like Mom has become mildly psychic after the fire that burned down her bakery last year and the ensuing coma that had our entire family on pins and needles.
Still, she can’t be right. Casey is with some dude named Jake, and she lives in Chicago.
Even though I would sink my teeth into the snack that is Casey Hart given the briefest of green lights, it seems she is not my snack to have.
Fuck, I wish she was though.
The door opens and Casey breezes out, looking cute enough to eat in that green spring dress.
She flips her golden brown hair over her shoulder, exposing the pretty curve of her shoulder I’d like to trace for myself.
I’m ready to keep the conversation going, maybe move things downtown and then back to my house if the vibe is right.
Until I remember that’s not going to happen. Hell no.
She has a boyfriend, and I’m not looking for…anything other than a forgettable good time.
I already know Casey Hart is the opposite of forgettable or one-and-done.
“I just realized when I was in the bathroom that I haven’t even looked at the barn yet,” Casey admits with a laugh.
“Sorry. I tied you up.” I’m grinning as I say it, not even a little bit sorry. She’s so easy to look at. I could stare at her face for a full month and not get tired of it.
“Don’t be sorry,” she says, pushing my shoulder. “We had a lot to catch up on. We could probably talk for another three hours.”
She’s not wrong about that. I’m about to suggest we do just that, but I remember the boyfriend aspect.
And the fact that I absolutely want to take things in a direction that is forbidden for me right now.
I have no room in my life for anything other than one-night stands.
It may be the off season for me, but everything is riding on my healing from my ACL injury last year.
My contract with the Cleveland Crushers expires at the end of the summer, and I’m old enough in the professional hockey world that renewal isn’t a given.
With the draft just around the corner in June, there’s a chance I could lose my spot on the team altogether if the general manager decides to invest in new talent over an injured thirty-year-old.
From there, it would be a hop, skip, and a jump to either free agency or a minor-league demotion—a “conditioning stint,” which is just a polite phrase for where careers like mine go to die.
And retirement isn’t an option for me yet. I’m not ready to let this career go.
So it’s healing and hockey twenty-four seven.
“Go look around. I won’t keep you trapped at the appetizer table again,” I promise, shooing her away.
She sends me a sweet smile that has me questioning whether I could make a little room for healing, hockey, and her.
I watch her drift through the barn, the fabric of her dress swishing at her thighs.
I have to forcibly rip my eyes from her body—she was cute in high school, hot during college, and now she’s some other level I can’t think about for too long.
I take a deep breath and step out of the barn, surveying the parking lot.
It’s cleared out a little bit, most of the food and drinks have been picked through, and I can tell that it’s been an excellent grand opening.
Piper has been networking nonstop today, and Kru has exchanged business cards with probably a hundred people.
Big things are on the horizon for those two.
I just wish I could say the same for myself.
“Griff. I’m heading out.” My brother Dane claps me on the shoulder, my 4-year-old niece Lia in his other arm. She’s crossing her arms and pouting down at his chest. She’s mad, but it’s hard to take the little blondie girl seriously when she looks this cute.
“What’s wrong with my Lia girl?” I try to pinch her cheek, but she doesn’t react.
“I said no more cookies and she disagreed, so it’s time to go home.” He hoists her in his arm, assessing her for a moment, then shakes his head. “You got mom, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll take her home afterward.” I turn back to the barn to figure out where Mom wandered off to.
Instead of our mother, I spot Casey, who’s paused on the staircase, laughing down at something Piper said.
“She mentioned a new combination we should try on that safe when I was talking to Piper earlier. Out of nowhere. It was so weird.”
Dane lifts a brow. “Shit. What if it works?”
“All we can do is try.” After Mom’s bakery burned down last fall, a safe was discovered in the rubble and returned to her.
She didn’t recognize it and has no idea what’s in it, but we’ve been trying to open it ever since.
Between that and Mom’s new random psychic abilities post-fire, life in Bayshore has felt a little different.
And Casey breezing back into my life threatens to add to that newfound weirdness. Probably in a good way. But also in a distracting way that I should definitely not explore.
“I’ll see you at game night on Wednesday,” Dane says as he heads toward his car. I wave after him just as someone else walks up to me. It’s Casey’s mom and dad, with Claire and her fiancé Paul trailing behind.
“It was good to see you Griffin,” Casey’s mom says warmly as they walk past. “We just love what Piper and Kru have done with this barn.”
“I’m proud to call her my little sister. Good seeing you all, thanks for coming out,” I call after them as they walk toward their cars.
Quick footsteps approach from behind, and soon Casey catches up.
“You leaving?” I ask her.
“They’re my ride.” She pauses near me, a wisp of long, golden brown hair drifting across her face. “This was so fun. I’m so glad my visit lined up with Piper’s grand opening.”
“Me too.” I begin to walk slowly toward her parents’ car with her. “How long are you in town for?”
She slows to a stop, scrutinizing something on the horizon. She starts to answer and then stops. I can’t get a read on what’s overcome her; I just know it’s very different than the mood we shared for an hour straight inside that barn.
“I’m actually, uh….” She laughs nervously, then turns to me, wringing her hands. “I’m going to be in town for a little while. Unexpectedly.”
My brows lift. That sounds like good news for me, but I’m not sure she’d agree. “Oh. Are you moving home?”
“No, no, it’s uh…” She shakes her head, her gaze drifting off again. “How can I put this…I guess I’m kind of taking a pause. A sabbatical. I’ll be around until my sister’s wedding and then heading back to Chicago.”
I can’t tell if she sees this as a good thing or a bad thing. Regardless, a little spark of excitement ignites inside me. “Let’s hang out while you’re in town. I stay in Bayshore in the off-season, so I’ll be around. I have a house near the waterfront, just a few blocks over.”
A smile curls at her lips. “That’s awesome. I’d love to hang out. Let’s do that.”
Her parents are shouting for her, and she sends me an apologetic smile as she jogs away.
“See ya, Casey.” I wave after her, not failing to notice how her breasts move as she waves excitedly.
“Bye, Griffin! Thanks for helping rescue my dress.”
I laugh as she clambers into the car, sending me one last wave. There are a few other things I’d like to do with that dress—like remove it from her body—but I push the thought from my mind.
She’s got a boyfriend. And you’re not trying to start anything anyway.
Once the Harts have driven away, I head for the far edge of the parking lot, looking back at the barn.
I’m proud of her and Kru for what they’ve built, which stands literally just beyond their main businesses, Kru’s restaurant – named Ray’s after his dad – and Piper’s marshmallow shop, Cloud Nine.
My phone buzzes with an incoming text from Randall, the program coordinator at the Bayshore Rec Center.
RANDALL: Good news! Your Youth Hockey Workshop is officially FULL with a waitlist. We’ve got parents signed up from Indiana and Pennsylvania even. This is gonna be big!
I smile down at the screen, letting the words sink in.
Each off-season I try a new thing to do with my downtime, and this year, I chose to try on the role of coach and hockey mentor.
Interest was huge after the initial announcement, and it looks like this is going to be a fun thing to keep me in the zone over the summer.
Beyond that, it’ll look great for my image with the team.
I wouldn’t be worrying about my contract’s looming expiration if I weren’t injured.
But I don’t have a green light to play yet, and a renewal would mean a substantial paycheck the team would have to write.
I can barely think about what the general manager, Marchetti, must be thinking about right now.
I’m thirty years old and can’t skate professionally. What use am I to the team?
A wave of icy anxiety slides through me, and I remind myself to focus on what I was doing. I tap out a quick response to Randall, top it off with a “hell yeah,” and then pocket my phone.
I need to clear my head. Seeing Casey again has me hot and bothered in a way that doesn’t mix well with a busy summer. Besides, I don’t have room for that type of distraction when my career is one ultra-talented rookie away from disaster.
I’ve lived through a similar situation once before, right at the tail end of college. I got in too deep with a girlfriend; I let my focus slip a few times too many and damn near got the doorway to the NHL slammed shut in my face.
I learned then that romance and hockey do not mix. And certainly not if I want to maintain the momentum and career I’ve built over the past decade. Life has shown me in many ways how wanting more is dangerous. If you have it all, life will take something away.
I don’t dare tip the scales.
It’s early evening. My family support quota has been filled for the day, which means I have only one destination after I take my mom home: the gym.
I’m not going to let another season with the Cleveland Crushers disappear out from underneath me.
Absolutely nothing is going to steal my focus this summer.
Especially not a hot little brunette in a sundress.