Chapter 16 Rosie
“So... this is my weekend house.” I gesture awkwardly around the space. I don’t know what to do with my hands. Do I put them on my hips? Do I let them rest at my sides? I’m overthinking every word and every action now that we’re alone.
Boone steps inside and instantly the space feels smaller, his tall, broad frame somehow overwhelming the usual cozy vibe.
“It’s cute. I like it,” he says, glancing around. “You said you’re doing renovations on it?”
I nod. “Eden’s redesigning my den with her boyfriend. She’s a design major, and he’s studying architecture. They’re using it as their junior year project.”
“Smart,” he says, continuing his slow tour of the place, flicking on the kitchen light before wandering into the den.
When he returns, I’m in the kitchen, putting on a pot of tea to warm up. It’s freezing outside and since I haven’t been home in seven days, the heat was set to an ungodly level while the home was sitting empty.
“You live here alone every weekend?” he asks, leaning a hip against the counter and watching me.
“Yes.”
He arches a brow, his expression shifting to something between disbelief and concern. “I noticed that you don’t have a security system.”
“I know. But it’s a super safe, small town. I think Brookhaven was ranked number one safest town in the northeast last year.”
“That’s fine, but I’m still installing a security system in here soon.”
The casual authority in his tone sends a wave of heat rushing through my core.
He’s not just making an observation for my safety; he’s deciding that he’s going to take care of it too.
And for a woman who has to make decisions all day, every day of her life for other people, it's nice to have someone do it for me for a change.
Cain’s been on my case about getting a security system too, but I’d brushed him off, promising to deal with it “eventually.” Hearing Boone say he’ll handle it…
it feels different. Like he’s looking out for me in a way I’m not used to, and it’s.
.. unsettling in the best way because I wholly believe that he will take care of it.
“Do you want some tea?” I ask, trying to shake the feeling.
“I’ll just take a glass of water.”
I nod, grabbing a glass, filling it with ice and water from the tap how I know he likes before handing it to him.
“Thank you.”
The snow outside has started to pick up. It’s swirling against the floor-to-ceiling wraparound windows in the living room like it wants inside. The windows were one of the things that drew me to buying this home.
During daylight, you can see the lake that’s the heart of this town clearly. In the summertime it’s full of boaters, fishers and families enjoying the quiet simplicities of small-town life.
I motion toward the living room. “We can sit in here if you want to go over everything that I need to know about the Valentine’s Day ball.”
He nods and follows me, settling easily into the space. I take my spot on the sleek designer couch I splurged on—one of the few polished touches in this half-finished house. Boone sits across from me in the old love seat that Eden found at her family’s thrift store a couple of weeks ago.
It’s a piece that I never thought would fit my style, with its worn leather and vintage charm, but now, with Boone sitting in it, it feels like it was made for this room.
“So,” I say, my fingers tangling together in my lap as I look at him. He looks… unreal, sitting there with moonlight and snow drifting in through the windows behind him. Like some kind of massive hockey god who wandered into the wrong house.
And he’s here. In my home.
We’ve spent countless nights sleeping just a few feet apart in my apartment in the city, but this is different. More intimate.
“So,” he responds, clearing his throat and sitting back. His long legs stretch out in front of him. “There’s no Mayhem Valentine’s Day ball.”
I take a sip of my tea and practically choke. “What?”
His grin widens, lazy and unbothered. “I made it up. I figured if you wanted me to stay the night that badly, I’d help you out with an excuse. It was believable, wasn’t it?”
“Boone," I set my tea down on the small table next to the couch and notice that my hand is shaking a little.
Am I really this nervous around him? Every public dinner, every post-game photo op, there was always someone else around, something to hide behind when we made our public appearances.
And anytime we were alone in my apartment, he never looked at me like… this. Like he really sees me.
“I didn’t want you here. I just thought that it made more sense than sleeping at my brother’s house.”
His eyes crinkle into a deeper smile as he gazes at me. I’ve never had a man look at me like this. It’s not with pity, or disappointment, but tender affection. “Rosie, you wanted me to spend the night.”
I ignore him. "Cain’s going to find out that there’s no event.”
Boone shrugs, completely unfazed with the prospect of my brother’s wrath.
“Won’t be the first time he’s been disappointed with me given what Rhiannon revealed to him tonight about me moving in with you.
Plus, that man is whipped. I promise he’s not going to follow up on my Valentine’s Day plans. He’s probably already forgotten.”
I blush, shaking my head with a laugh. “I’m sure you’re right. They’re probably testing out a new kink or something right now.”
Boone chuckles, low and deep, the sound vibrating through the quiet room as he takes another sip of his water.
“With that said, I do have some ideas for a Valentine’s Day charity event I wanted to run by you.”
That has me pausing. “Really? What charity?”
He nods. “There’s a women’s shelter a few miles down the road from here in Brookhaven. I thought me and the boys could offer up some gear to an auction to raise funds for them.”
“The women’s shelter?”
He nods. “Your pro-bono work inspired me. Would that be alright with you?”
He remembered. I swallow and try not to let the flutters in my stomach mean anything.
“I think that’s a really nice idea.”
“Maybe we’ll even auction off a date or two with one of our players.”
“I’ve heard Penn’s available,” I joke.
His lips twitch at the corner. “Ah, so the girls have told you about Penn.”
“He’s hard to miss.”
His eyes narrow slightly, like he doesn’t love that I noticed his teammate. What Boone doesn’t realize is that the only person I’m watching out on the ice is him.
“Right, well he probably already has plans for Valentine’s Day. The guy’s always keep a rotating roster of women on speed dial. He’s not one to ever settle down.” The way he says it is almost defensive.
I pick up my teacup and take a sip. “Yeah, of course. He’s a total player.”
That seems to satisfy him. He leans forward in his seat, his eyes more serious now. “So, what do you normally do for the holiday?”
“Besides work?”
“Yeah, besides that.”
“Not much really. My dad and Cain always send me roses and then I usually work late and go home to eat takeout by myself. Real exciting, right?
His brow lifts slightly, like he’s filing that information away. “You ever had a boyfriend during the holiday?”
I take a moment to think back on the last few years. “Yeah, once. Back in high school. It was short-lived.”
“What’d he do for you?”
“I think he gave me a single rose he plucked from his mom’s garden.”
Boone shakes his head, a wry grin tugging at his lips. “That’s messed up.”
I laugh easily. “It was but at the time I thought it was romantic. My standards were low.” They still are, unfortunately. “What about you?”
“The last time I did something…” he rubs at his dark beard as he thinks. “That probably was for my ex a few years ago.”
“What’d you do for her?”
“Flowers, chocolates, music, home-cooked meal. The works. A whole lot of effort for someone who didn’t end up appreciating it, but I wanted to show her that she mattered to me even if it’s a commercial holiday.”
I nibble on my lip, hesitating, but the tequila courage fizzing through my veins nudges me forward. I’ve been dying to know what really happened between them, and this feels like the opening I’ve been waiting for.
“Do you mind if I ask what really happened? I mean, I know what the media said, and what Rhiannon mentioned tonight, but I’ve always believed there are two sides to every story.”
He leans back in his chair, stretching his long legs out until his feet brush mine. His thighs nearly swallow the seat, and the soft, golden light makes him look unfairly good.
There’s no denying Boone is attractive. But even stripping his handsome looks and strong muscles out of the equation, there’s something else there too.
He’s easy to talk to. It’s almost effortless. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who made conversation feel this natural, this unforced, like I wasn’t constantly reaching for the next thing to say and fumbling wondering if I’m reacting appropriately.
“The media said what exactly?”
“That she wanted you to retire and start a family, but you wanted to keep playing so she ended the engagement.”
He chuckles, but there’s no humor behind it. It’s just a sad bitterness. “The opposite of that is how things happened.”
My brows knit together in confusion. “Really? So… you were ready to quit but she wanted you to keep playing?”
"Pretty much,” he says, his voice deeper now.
“I was ready to settle down. I wanted to get married, have kids, the whole thing. I figured I’d play another season or two, maybe three if I was lucky.
But I was at my peak, and if stepping away meant having a family, I’d have done it without hesitation.
I was ready.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but there’s something heavy in the way he says it.