Page 32 of Your Love

“I’m definitely surprised,” I reply with a grin. “I thought you wouldn’t be here for another few hours.”

She offers a small shrug, her shoulders rising and falling nonchalantly. “I finished my last exam early,” she explains with a slight smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “And I thought I’d take advantage of the extra time to get an early start on vacation.”

“I’m so, so happy to see you,” I exclaim.

“Me, too.” Her reply echoes my sentiment, a bright smile lighting up her features and making her eyes shine brighter.

“But I did make a promise to my mom. She needs some help getting Thanksgiving dinner ready, and I will have to help for a few hours.”

“That’s fine,” she replies. “I think I’m going to head home and take a much-needed rest before we meet up again later. It’s a long drive.”

“You haven’t been home yet?” I ask, surprised at this revelation. It’s hard to believe that she’s traveled all this way without stopping at her own home first.

With a firm shake of her head, her long hair cascades around her shoulders in soft waves. “Nope, you were my first stop,” she says, the corners of her mouth lifting into a knowing smile. “And can I just say you looked great out there on the ice.”

“Wait? You saw me practice?”

“I caught the end. I love watching you play. You’re so talented.”

A warmth spreads through my chest, and I try to hide the grin that threatens to break out on my face. “I know,” I say with a shrug.

Kerri’s hand connects with my arm in a playful punch. A hint of mischief dances in her eyes as she speaks. “You’re so humble. It’s one of the things I admire about you.”

“Baby, all hockey players are cocky. It’s part of our DNA.”

As soon as the word leaves my mouth, Kerri’s reaction is immediate: cheeks flushed pink, wide-eyed surprise. And then it hits me—“baby“ just slipped out without me thinking.

Great job, Landry. Way to make things awkward in the first five minutes.

Kerri’s recovery is swift, her graceful hand automatically reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she clears her throat. Her voice wavers as she speaks, a hint of nervousness creeping into her words. “I should probably head home,” she says, avoiding my gaze before meeting it again. “Call me when you’re done helping your mom.”

“Of course,” I reply. Feeling the need to hold her in my arms once more, I wrap her in a hug, basking in the warmth of her body against mine. I press a soft kiss to the top of her head. “I’m glad you’re home.”

She returns the hug tightly, resting her head on my chest for a moment before pulling away and giving me a small wave as she gets into her little red car. A pang of longing hits me as I watch her drive off, the sound of her engine growing fainter and fainter.

Chapter 14

“All For You”

Kerri - Age 18, 1988

Holy shit. One word—just one single word, “baby,” sent electric currents through my entire body. The huskiness of his voice wrapped around me and settled in, waking up something deep and dormant. It was such a simple word, yet so intimate, and nothing I’d ever heard from him.

He was embarrassed when he realized what he’d said, as if he thought he had made a mistake. But to me, it was perfect. The way his voice softened and his cheeks flushed only added to the intensity of the moment. I’ve always known deep down this man can make me feel things no one else ever could. He confirmed it today with one single word.

How could I have forgotten those amber-colored eyes, strong jawline covered with the perfect amount of stubble, and those brown curls? You’d think I would be accustomed to the way Landry looks by now, but when he swaggered out of the building, I nearly combusted.

The absence of him in my everyday life during the past few months has been a slow form of torture. I’ve tried to immerse myself in my new surroundings and make friends at school, but it’s all still unfamiliar. It’s not home, and the people there don’t feel like home either.

So, instead, I’ve spent most of my days buried in textbooks and lectures, trying to find solace in the mundane routine of general education classes that are in no way challenging or applicable to my future.

The brick walls of my dorm room have suffocated me as I yearned day after day for the comfort of anything familiar. The sounds are nothing I’m accustomed to—the constant humming of the fluorescent lights and the smell of stale coffee from the nearby study lounge have only added to my feelings of loneliness. And don’t get me started on my roommate.

Sonia and I are oil and water, never entirely mixing despite our forced cohabitation. The roommate compatibility questionnaire we filled out upon moving in was a ridiculous attempt at establishing some harmony—one that was ignored. Our lifestyles could not be more different.

I’m an early riser, jolting awake with the first rays of sunlight to attend my morning classes. Call it the curse of growing up on a farm, but I like to wake up with the chickens. Sonia sleeps until well past noon while her heavy snores fill the room, and the curtains are drawn tight to keep it as dark as possible.

Our other habits clash as well. I don’t smoke cigarettes or drink alcohol often, while she indulges in both. She goes through an entire pack of Marlboros every other day and carries a cloud of smoke with her everywhere she goes.