Chapter 8
eight
Luke
The flight home felt different from every other losing-series flight I’d been on. Usually the plane sat heavy, like a funeral that hadn’t started yet. This one just felt empty.
Eli stood in the aisle somewhere over Wisconsin, addressing anyone who'd listen without raising his voice, the way he always did.
“We know what we looked like on film,” he said. “That’s not who we are. We’re better than two games. We go home, we regroup, we come back like ourselves.”
Wyatt backed him with fewer words but the same certainty. By the time the wheels hit the tarmac, most of the room had shaken off some of the two-loss fog.
I wanted to go straight to Eli’s. Wanted the sound of Lily’s voice and the particular quiet of that kitchen at night.
But Dani had started a brand-new job, a brand-new ER full of people who needed her sharp and present, and I wasn't going to be the reason she showed up to work running on no sleep because I couldn't sit still in my own apartment for one night.
So I went to my place.
It felt too quiet the second I closed the door. I dropped my bag, opened a window, and texted her before I could talk myself out of it.
At my place tonight. Wanted you to know in case you need the space to actually rest.
Hours passed without a response. I figured she was still working or already asleep in bed—but when she finally did respond, it was late enough that I'd almost given up checking.
Just finished. Exhausted in a way I didn’t know was possible. Ready to fall face-first into a bed.
Sleep well. I can't wait to see you.
Same here.
It was all I needed for a smile to spread across my lips. My day just got a thousand times better.
By Friday mid-morning, a text came through with an address. A crunchy cafe a few blocks from the hospital.
Lunch break in an hour. Come say hi if you want.
You bet. I won't miss a chance to see your face.
I sped through dressing up. It had only been a few days, but it felt like forever since I’d last seen her.
I found her at a corner table already halfway through an earthy-looking meal, hair pulled back, scrubs still on.
She looked more tired than I’d ever seen her but still astonishingly beautiful. I slid into the seat across from her.
"Rough first shift?"
Her head snapped up. A smile broke across her face. "Luke."
She laughed, but it sounded thin. "New floor. It’s... quietly busy."
She stabbed at her food like she was racing a timer.
"That sounds awful," I said.
"I’m fine." A shrug. "Settling in. The team’s good. I’m just ‘hey you’ to half of them for now. But I like it. It's a good team."
"Good to hear. You deserve a good team."
She glanced up at that. She took a sip of the pink concoction beside her plate.
I nodded at it. “What is that?”
“Kombucha.”
“Never had it.”
“Are you kidding me?”
I reached over and stole a sip before she could stop me. My whole body recoiled. Whatever that was, it was not a beverage—it was a punishment.
I set the bottle down hard and pressed a hand to my chest.
“That’s poison. I need medical attention. Is there a nurse nearby? Anyone? I’m fading.”
She laughed loud enough that the couple at the next table looked over. She swatted my arm.
“You’re an idiot.”
“A dying idiot. Tell Lily I loved her.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m being resuscitated. Slowly. It’s a process.”
I kept the bit going another few seconds just to keep the sound of her laugh in the air between us. When I finally let it go, she was still smiling, shaking her head.
She checked her phone and winced at the time.
“I can’t stay much longer. Duty calls.”
“I know. I just wanted to see you.”
Something in her face gentled. A few minutes later, she was done with her lunch. I was more than happy to watch her eat. She stood and gathered her things. I stood with her. We fell into step toward the hospital, her lunch break dissolving faster than either of us wanted.
The hospital was still two blocks away. Lunch rush was over and the sidewalk was mostly empty.
"God, Luke."
Dani said it softly. Arms crossed like she was holding herself together.
"I keep thinking about your mom. What you said at the pool." She swallowed. "About having to fight to make her live. It must've been a lot, especially since you just lost your dad."
I shoved my hands in my pockets. "It was a lot. She was there physically. Paid the bills. Came to a few games. Signed the slips."
A breath. "But the version of her before that? She packed up and left after my dad's death."
"I'm sorry, Luke."
"It's fine," I said. "I survived."
Dani was quiet for half a block. Then: "I keep thinking... what if that was me?"
"What?"
"With Lily. When her dad left." She gave this laugh that wasn't a laugh. "What if I'd loved him so much I didn't wake up? What if I hadn't fallen out of love before he disappeared?"
"Dani—"
"My only thought was Lily," she cut in. "I just didn't want her to feel the hole he left."
"And did she?" We stopped at the crosswalk.
"Probably on some level, but she was so young," Dani said. "Then within a year, the hospital offered travel contracts and I said yes before I could think."
The light changed. We walked.
"Why?" I asked.
"Fresh start," she said. "Stupid good pay. And I told myself Lily wouldn't remember not having a dad this way."
She shrugged. "New city every few months. It was easier than explaining to her why she wouldn’t have a dad like other kids."
She glanced at me. "I think I stopped believing in stability a long time ago."
I kicked a bottle cap off the curb. "You're still here though."
"Yeah," she said. "For now."
That word hit me in the chest. For now.
I reached over and took her hand. Didn't say anything. Just held it. As if that was enough to make her stay.
"Lily's been asking about you," she said instead. "Calling you Mommy's hockey friend to anyone who'll listen. She's very perceptive for five."
“That she is.”
“Also, I know we agreed to keep things under wraps, but I have a feeling Maya suspects us. I’ve never been able to keep anything from my sister for long.” She squeezed my hand. “It’s only a matter of time.”
“I don’t mind people knowing. For the record.”
“I know. That’s not really the part I’m worried about.”
We reached the hospital’s side entrance before I could ask what part she was worried about instead. She stopped and turned to face me.
“I'm missing you already,” she said.
“Same here. Is there a vacancy here? I don't mind working—so long as it keeps me close to you.”
She chuckled and shook her head. “You're silly.”
“I know. That’s what Lily likes about me.” I winked and her smile grew wider.
"Be ready to start," she said. "Just in case. I know it's not your night, but be ready anyway."
"I'm always ready."
"I know. That's what I like about you." A small pause. “Also, I’m coming to the game tomorrow. With Lily. She hasn’t stopped talking about hockey since your dragon started guest-starring in her dreams.”
Something warm moved through me.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I leaned in. Dani still smelled faintly of coffee with a soft citrus note underneath. Her lips parted slightly when my hand came up to cup the side of her face.
The first press of my mouth against hers was bliss. Her fingers curled into the front of my jacket and held on.
I tilted my head and deepened the kiss just enough to feel her respond.
Her lips moved with mine. A small sound rose in her throat.
My other hand settled at her waist, feeling the rise and fall of her breathing under the thin fabric of her scrubs.
She stepped closer until the front of her body brushed against mine.
The contact sent a slow heat through my chest.
I tasted the faint sweetness she had just eaten and something that was purely her.
My thumb stroked the soft skin just in front of her ear.
She made another quiet sound and leaned fully into me.
For a few long seconds, the hospital entrance, the people walking past, the afternoon noise all faded.
There was only the warm press of her mouth, the way her fingers tightened in my jacket, and the steady beat of her heart against my own.
When we finally eased apart, her eyes stayed closed for half a second longer than mine. Her lips were slightly flushed. She opened her eyes and looked at me.
I rested my forehead against hers for one more breath, still holding her waist, still feeling the warmth of her through the fabric.
Somewhere behind her, a couple of her coworkers whistled. Someone called out something in a sing-song voice. Dani pulled back laughing, cheeks pink, waving a hand at them without turning around.
“I have to go before they start a betting pool.”
“Too late for that, probably.”
“Probably.” She backed toward the door, still holding my eyes. “Have fun tomorrow. I’ll be watching.”
I watched her disappear inside, then turned and walked back toward the street feeling lighter than I had in longer than I wanted to admit.
I was already running through my pregame routine in my head even though I wasn’t starting.
“Have fun tomorrow,” she'd said.
I intended to, whether I had playing time or not.