Page 33 of Deking at Love
“My minors coaches, and not you specifically.They constantly told us not to get involved in anything that competed with hockey.‘This is your big chance.Nothing else matters.’That kind of stuff.The head coach even badgered some of the guys into dropping their girls if they wanted to make it to the NHL.”Sam pushed out a lung-deflating sigh.“I could see myself wanting to hang out with you and losing sight of what I’d been chasing for so long, so I bought into what he said.I didn’t want to get derailed from my dream—not thatyouor anything you did would derail me on purpose, but if anyone could have done it, it was you.I know that sounds shitty, but avoiding you was more aboutmeworrying I’d get so wrapped up in you that nothing else mattered.That’s the truth.Welcome to my twenty-year-old mind,” he huffed.“Angie, I am so, so sorry I hurt you.I shouldn’t have run out like that.If I’d understood myself better back then, I could have explained it to you, and we could have stayed friends until …”
“Until?”
“I don’t know.Until we were older, more established, like we are now.And maybe we could have picked it up again.”
Regret shimmered in his eyes right alongside the truth of his confession.The resentment she’d been lugging around for the past six years suddenly crystallized and crumbled.Could he have handled it better?Absolutely.Had he hurt her?Yes, he had wounded her deeply.Could she find the grace to forgive him?Maybe she could.He’d only been twenty.Neither of them had possessed high adulting skills in their arsenals back then.In the end, it hadn’t been about him rejecting her; it had been about him staying hyperfocused on the prize.And she had been that odd scene that didn’t fit in his story.
“And now?”she ventured.
“Now?I’d like to think I’m older and wiser, but hockey is still number one.”
“Or not.It sounded the other night like your father and brother are your number one.”
“And therefore hockey is,” he tossed back.
“And once more, I ask you what you’ll do when there is no more hockey.Even if you climb to the top, your body will give out one day, and you’ll have to stop, even though your mind might still be willing.Tell me, Sam, if you won the lottery tomorrow or a genie appeared and wiped away every last one of your financial worries, would you still want to play hockey?”
Chapter 11
Doilies
Samshiftedhisweightfrom one side to the other, bleeding off some of his agitation over Angie’s questions tonight.She wasn’t going to let up.Then again, he’d opened himself up by coming to “check on her.”Trevorhadleft early, but that hadn’t been the only excuse that had propelled Sam.That kiss had put him into a tailspin, making him do and say stupid shit, like showing up here and coughing up a secret he’d never meant to reveal.
Was he looking for a redo with Angie?
No clue.What he did know was that he got a kick out of being around her.He liked sparring with her, enjoyed the challenge of seeing if he could get under her skin, and loved it when she surprised him with a zinger.He also loved that he could simply be himself around her.No faking anything.
Who else could he talk to the way he did her?Who else knew his history—lumps, bumps, and scars?There was something oddly comforting about sharing the past, like he was going back to the ground where his roots were planted.
Those pretty sky-blue eyes held no guile when she said, “Tell me, Sam, if you won the lottery tomorrow or a genie appeared and wiped away every last one of your financial worries, would you still want to play hockey?”
Okay.She’d lobbed him a slow pitch he could handle.
“Hell yeah.But I’d do it for fun then, and that might give me room to add other things into my life, like taking more pictures and turning them into art I could hang on my walls.The walls of a place I owned.With a backyard for a dog.”Have a serious girlfriend.“Go with you to the shelter and find out what the big deal is, maybe even bring home a dog to dig holes in that backyard.”
Without thinking, he reached out and lightly brushed his finger over her shoulder.She jerked slightly.Pinching a coarse white hair, he held it up.“I noticed it on you earlier today, but I didn’t want to say or do anything in case Attila the Bun decided to take my boot and beat me over the head with it.”
“Attila the Bun?”Angie sputtered, then broke into an adorable fit of laughter.
He’d made her laugh, and he couldn’t help grinning himself.“That woman is harsh as hell.She could scare patients into speeding through their rehab.”
“Bedside manner is not one of her stronger traits,” Angie agreed between giggles, “but she runs this place very efficiently, which I appreciate.”
“Of course you would, being little Miss Efficiency yourself.”
“Hey, I resemble that remark!”she snickered.
God, he loved it when she let the Ice Princess thaw.“I’ll bet your place doesn’t have a speck of dust or a doily out of place.”
“Oh, there’s plenty of dust, and not a doily in sight.”
“I don’t believe you.You’ll have to prove it by showing me.”Why was he pushing to see her place?Because he wanted to know the side of Angie she kept hidden away, wanted her to let him into her world.
His wishes went up in smoke when she scoffed loudly.
His eyebrows bounced playfully.“Do you remember going over to Brianna’s grandparents’ house for Christmas?”
Angie burst out with another laugh.“Omigod, yes!There were doilieseverywhere!Doilies on the armrests, on the dining table, on the bookshelves.There were even tissue holders made of doilies in the bathroom!”
