Page 63 of Defend Her Heart

When I signed my big extension contract with the Bobcats, I knew I wanted to design my own place. The hockey season can be extremely grueling with all the travel and playing eighty-two games, so I wanted a place I could come home to and feel at ease. When it was time to review the concept with the contractors, I had a few design options I’d put together, but nothing compared to the home I designed with Avery all those years ago. Home is where your heart is, right? And my heart has always belonged to her. If I couldn’t have her, at least I could have the memories.

Never in my wildest dreams could I have predicted she’d be standing in my living room one day. I had buried the idea that I could have her in my life a long time ago. Seeing her here, in this space that is essentially dedicated to her… well, it’s a little overwhelming. Embarrassing is another word I could use.

Avery walks toward the floor-to-ceiling bookcases that line one of the living room walls opposite the giant wall of windows overlooking the city. She runs her hands along the spines of some of the books as she moves across the room. When she gets to the old-school record player sitting on the center bookcase, she freezes again.

Slowly, I walk over to her but stop when we’re a few feet apart.

“The record player. The bookcase. The wall of windows.Did you—” She cuts off her own question and turns to walk toward the kitchen.

Like the sad little puppy dog that I apparently am, I follow.

She runs her fingertips across the marble countertop of the island as she rounds it toward the appliances. I watch as she opens the top oven door, followed by the lower one. I hear her laugh to herself as I pull out one of the stools from under the island.

What is she thinking? Does she think I’m insane for doing this? Does she think it’s creepy? I keep my eyes on her as she touches every little thing that lines my countertop. She opens the top of the cookie jar, peering inside. Unfortunately, I suck at baking, so that stays empty most of the time. Now that Niko is with Sadie, she’ll sometimes bake for me but other than that, the jar is as empty as my soul. Well, I guess it’s not so empty anymore. Now that Avery is back in my life, I’m finding it’s easier to go about my day because even if there’s just a slim chance of seeing her, it’s enough to get me excited.

She closes the top of the jar that I had specially made. It’s covered in constellations, and Avery runs her fingers along every single one of them.

I hold my breath when she turns and leans against the counter. Her eyes are on the floor, and I’m silently begging for her to look up.

Please, god, look at me.

After a few seconds, she lifts her head to reveal tear-filled eyes and a sad smile.

Fuck.She’s upset. And this time, I’m the reason, not her health.

“Avery, I’m sor?—”

She holds her hand up to stop me. “Just give me a minute to find the words.”

I nod once and fold my hands in front of me on the counter. Her eyes scan the space again, stopping on variousthings. My gaze never leaves her, but I can probably guess what she’s fixating on. The numerous plants lining the windows, including a huge palm plant in a green pot that matches her irises. Her eyes make their way back to the kitchen, and she chuckles when they land on the coffee maker I’ve never used.

“This is the dream house you designed in high school.” She finally looks at me after she says it. It’s not a question but I respond anyway.

“This is the dream housewedesigned in high school.”

Avery shakes her head, and to my utter, joyous surprise, she laughs. It’s a full-on belly laugh that has me itching to hop off this stool and go to her. But I keep my ass planted where it is and wait for her to say something.

After a minute, she finally calms down and moves to the opposite side of the island. She rests her elbows on the countertop and leans down. I’m sure I’d have the most perfect view of her cleavage if I were to move my gaze a few inches lower, but I refuse to look anywhere but at her face, trying to read what’s going on in that beautiful mind of hers.

“Why?”

That was not what I was expecting, but it’s an easy enough question for me. It might scare her off but I can’t lie, so I don’t hesitate when I answer. “Because I told you I would.”

There’s no reaction. She doesn’t so much as twitch her lips. Avery continues to look at me like she’s trying to figure out the answer to a puzzle. The silence stretches and it’s making my skin crawl. Not knowing what to do, I slide off the stool and stand.

“Come on. I’ll show you the rest.”

She considers me for another moment but pushes off the counter. I walk her through the kitchen toward the hall that leads to the bedrooms and bathrooms. Avery pops her head into each of them until we get to the master bedroom at the back.

I open the door and step aside to let her enter first. The space is decorated almost identically to the way she described it years ago. A four-post bed sits in the center of the room, matching bedside tables on either side with lantern lights hanging above. There’s a tall mirror on the opposite wall of the room next to a mahogany dresser. The big screen TV was an addition of my own, but she doesn’t comment on it.

Avery simply twirls and takes in the room. Without a word, she walks to the master bathroom. She has one foot on the tiled floor when she whirls around to face me.

“Thatwas not in the original design.” She points to a giant bathtub sitting in the center of the room. I move past her and slide my hand across the porcelain.

“No, it wasn’t. But we were too young back then to know how amazing it is to have a good soak after a long game or practice.”

Avery smiles then heads my way. She leans against the tub, gripping the edge of it with her hands.