Chapter 8
OPENING THE DOOR
STELLA
I don’t know how it happened. One minute the Cozy Corner Craft Shop can barely make ends meet. Then suddenly Mom’s been so busy fulfilling online orders, she can’t leave the store.
Since she was crap at managing money, she relegated all such dealings to me when I moved here. I’m grateful for the increase in revenue. If the month continues like this, we might get caught up on a few of the bills.
She’s happier being busier too. What happened to Dad took a toll on her.
He might pay the price in prison, but Marjorie is paying the price in declining health and mental stability since their divorce.
I admire her because she’s still here, taking each day as it comes.
But being busier means… I’m taking Aiden to hockey class tonight.
It’s fine. I’m fine. The fact that Eli hugged me against his body the other night so tightly doesn’t wear on my mind at all. It only transported me back in time—to wild hockey parties, and crazy dates with him, to being in his arms, as he rocked my world with his thick stick—
“Let’s go, Mom.” Aiden set his gear bag on the ground with a huff and wipes his brow with the back of his hand. “These bags sure are heavy.”
“You know you don’t have to bring the entire set. Just your helmet, knee and elbow pads, gloves and skates.”
“But I have to be ready for anything. You never know what coach might have us do.”
“Oh, of course. You’re right. We’d better go then.” My lips twitch at how seriously he takes this.
On the way, Aiden says, “Can you shoot a video with your phone while I’m skating tonight?”
“Absolutely, I will.” He’s so precious with his passion for hockey. Who knows, maybe there is a sport in his future. Although I have yet to break his interest in hockey to Jerrod, the eternal football enthusiast.
“I want to send a video to Dad. Do you think he’ll be proud of me like the coach is?” That’s the first time he’s mentioned Jerrod since this whole obsession with hockey started.
“Sure, buddy.”
It might be best if Jerrod doesn’t know Eli is in charge of the Wishes Granted Hockey Foundation for now.
Back in college, jealousy raged between the two guys over me.
It didn’t help that I still had some classes with Jerrod since we were both studying education at the time, so we remained friendly after our breakup.
He’d be jealous if I brought up Eli in conversation, and Eli would react similarly if I mentioned about Jerrod talking to me in class. I was stuck in the middle.
About a month after I started dating Eli, I was to meet him outside the library on campus for dinner and studying.
Only when I’d arrived, I found he and Jerrod in a yelling and shoving match over me, drawing a crowd of jocks around them.
It soon became footballers versus hockey studs.
Jerrod took the first punch, which was a huge mistake, standing a few inches shorter and leaner than Eli.
Embarrassed after Eli nearly knocked him out with one punch, Jerrod ran off.
Who knows how he may take the news about his son seeing Eli regularly? But that was years ago. Now we’re all adults, Jerrod has remarried, and cares little about me since even before the divorce.
When we arrive at the rink, we have to park further away. The parking lot sits fuller with more cars. Inside, energy buzzes through the place with people everywhere. The program seems to have expanded. Good for Eli.
“There’s way more kids today.” I know my son, and that’s his worried voice. His eyes scout around for his group and coach while tugging his helmet on, twisting his head side to side to make sure it’s snug.
“I noticed.” I kneel to lace up his skates. “But it’ll still be fun.”
We spot Eli on the ice, talking with some other players—three more of them, all in Aspens jerseys, and broad and good-looking in that effortless, athletic way that makes many women swoon. With an air of commanding confidence, he rules the ice—what has always made him a great captain and leader.
He could take command of my body right now, and I might actually let him. The hug after he fixed my car started a small fire I haven’t been able to put out yet, no matter how hard I try.
He blows a whistle and calls for his group, the Crashers, the name they put in place last week. Aiden loves it.
“Ready, little crasher?” Eli skates up to us, fist-bumping Aiden first—and then me too. “Good to see you tonight, Stella.”
“Thanks.” I smile, and they’re off. I break out my phone first, and shoot a video of Aiden skating. I intentionally avoid getting Eli into the frame; for now, best to keep it about Aiden.
With an hour to fill, and plenty of studying to fill it, I find a quiet place in the stands and try to focus on my laptop. Eventually, someone settles in beside me.
“Hello,” a woman greets cheerfully. “I feel like I need to file a formal complaint.”
“For what?” I glance sideways. She’s probably about my age, bundled in a puffer coat, golden hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, cheeks pink from the cold.
“They didn’t warn us the instructors would be this hot.” She tips her chin toward the rink. “I brought my kid here to learn hockey, not to reevaluate my life choices when it comes to men. They could melt my ice anytime.”
I laugh despite myself. “It does seem a little unfair to be stealing glances at the men when we’re supposed to be here for our kids.”
“Right?” she beams. “I’m Brenna. My son is Brady, the blond one who just tripped over his own skates.”
I follow her gaze and spot the kid in question, already scrambling back to his feet. “Stella. The boy, Aiden, with the dark hair next to Coach Eli is mine.”
“Yes. I’ve heard all about Aiden.”
My stomach dips. “You have?”
She nods. “My son came home after the last session talking about him nonstop. Said Aiden knows all the stats, knows the players’ numbers, and apparently has a birthday party coming up.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “He’s a little enthusiastic about hockey right now.”
“That’s one word for it. And I can totally sympathize. It’s like hockey fever has hit Boulder.” She chuckles, elbowing my arm. “Brady says that Aiden has been telling everyone that Coach Eli might be there.”
I blink. “At his party?”
She shrugs. “Kids exaggerate, obviously. But he seems really excited.”
Maybe so, but if he’s bragging about it, then it means he’s also hopeful and expecting.
I watch Aiden glide fast past the boards, his face lit up, cheeks flushed, joy written into every movement.
He seems more confident these days, too.
Even so, he can’t be spreading more rumors about his party like that.
“Our plans aren’t solidified yet. I mean, we still have to get through Halloween next week, then we can deal with his birthday and Christmas,” I explain.
“I totally understand. Well, if you need any help putting a party together, I love that sort of thing.” She scoots back to her seat but leaves a heavy weight bearing down on my shoulders.
My mind races about Aiden and this party. I hate to disappoint him, but he has to understand that I can’t always give him what he wants.
He skates over to the boards a few minutes later, breathless with cheeks glowing. “Mom! Can I take my jacket off? I’m sweating,” he calls.
Come to think of it, the air in here is warmer than usual. I see several other kids stripping off layers, too. I stomp down the bleachers with his bottle, and I reach for him, peeling the coat away and draping it over my arm. “Here. Drink your water.”
He does, gulping it down as if he hasn’t had any in days. “Did you see me skate sprints? Coach taught us how, timing us and everything.”
“I’m glad you’re having fun with it.” Pride blooms in his grin.
“Hey, superstar.” Eli’s voice slides into the conversation easily.
My spine reacts before my brain does. He rests a gloved hand casually on the boards.
The sight of it sends a jolt of electricity down my spine.
One specific memory, reserved only for those very lonely nights when I need a toy to help calm me down…
of Eli and I in the supply closet at the Tigers’ locker room before a game where he finally showed me exactly what a hockey glove can do to a woman.
I fan my blushing cheeks thinking about it, but play it off in front of Eli. “Aiden’s right. It is warm in here tonight.”
“I just bought the building, and we’re still trying to figure out how everything works. I think between Sean and me, we got the thermostat all screwed up,” Eli explains.
I cock my head. “You bought the rink?”
“Yeah, how about that? Now my little foundation has a home. Hey Aiden, we’re going to join Coach Sean’s group for a fun game. Go on over. I’ll be right there.”
“Yes, Coach Lewis.” He rushes off as quickly as his legs will carry him.
“How are you tonight?” Eli squares off with me, placing both his hands on either side of mine on the top of the board; goosebumps multiply on my skin, doing nothing to cool me off.
“Good.” The dots suddenly connect for me between Aiden’s desire to have a hockey party and a potential place to hold it.
“Can your mom watch Aiden tonight when this is over, so I can take you for that cup of coffee at last?” A sly corner of his mouth turns up.
“Sure. I think I can make the arrangements.” I can’t believe I’m giving in to seeing him alone and discussing the past…
and whatever else may come. But if he owns a part of Boulder now, and with no sign of Aiden’s hockey obsession letting up, we should get to where we can be friends and put the past behind us.
At least, that’s what my mind tries to convince me of.
The rest of the session flies faster than I expect.
When it finally wraps up, parents start gathering their kids, voices rising, skates clomping against the floor, gear everywhere.
Aiden is slower to pack up, lingering like he’s not quite ready to leave.
He’s dancing foot to foot until finally he makes a beeline for the bathroom, darting off before I can stop him.
Probably so excited to be on the ice, he held off taking a bathroom break for he past hour.
I turn to gather his gear—and collide with Eli, right into his chest.
He steadies me with his hands on my arms, sparking on my skin there. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” The air charges around us—he glances around at the thinning crowd. “Are we still on for coffee?”
“My mom can watch Aiden.” I nod and eye the bathroom door. I quickly work up the nerve. “Can I ask you something before Aiden returns?”
“Of course.”
“His birthday is on Christmas day which, as you can probably realize, is a challenging day for one. He’d like a party this year, and now that you own the rink, I was wondering… Could I maybe rent it for an hour? I’ll keep the party small, just a few of his friends—”
“Yes,” his answer comes immediately.
“Really? I’ll just hand out cupcakes. Keep it simple.”
“Of course, yes,” he repeats, as if it were obvious.
I chew my cheek. “Well, how much would you charge?”
“I don’t want a dime. It’ll be my gift to him.”
I cock my head to complain.
“Don’t even. I want to do this,” he warns. “Now, when is it?”
“I haven’t picked a date yet. Maybe the week before Christmas?”
“I’ll check my schedule and let you know. I’d like to be there.”
My heart stumbles. “You would?”
“If that’s okay with you.”
Before I can answer, Aiden bursts back out, passing the vending machine and begging for a protein bar. Eli steps back, respectful, but his eyes burn into mine long enough to make me blush.
The problem is, letting Eli into my son’s life—and mine—I like opening a door I’m not sure I’ll ever want to close again.