Page 72 of Break Out

I stare at my sister at a loss for words. I don’t think she meant to be nasty, but her comment still stings a bit.

“I’m sorry,” I say, although I’m not really sure why I’m apologizing.

“Nothing you can do. I better go meet Chet and his parents so we can talk to Mom,” Clara says, getting to her feet. Bri also gets up from the couch.

We hug, and Bri promises to text me when the hair and makeup people are in her room. Clara didn’t want to cancel them with such short notice, so she told the rest of her wedding party to still come get their hair and makeup done.

When the door finally shuts behind them, I blow out a breath and sag back into the chair. Brody sits down on the coffee table in front of me, taking my hands in his.

“What can I do?” he whispers, squeezing my hands.

I shrug. I don’t know. I’m overwhelmed, and I don’t know where to start in sorting through my feelings.

Chapter twenty-eight

Brody

Did not see that coming. I try not to dwell on all the new information or the change of wedding plans and focus on the woman in front of me instead.

“What do you need?”

“I don’t know,” Aubrey finally says, rubbing a hand over her forehead and down her face. “I think I need something to eat. And maybe a stiff drink.” She grimaces. “It’s probably too early for alcohol, but after all of that.” She waves her hand around.

“I understand.” I get to my feet. “You want your usual waffle, fruit, and eggs?”

“Yes, please. And a mimosa.”

“Got it.” I walk into the bedroom and call down to room service. When I step back into the living room, Aubrey has moved to the couch where she’s hunched over her phone, typing furiously.

“Your phone was going off.” She gestures toward it sitting on the coffee table, not even looking up at me.

“Thanks. Food will be here in . . .” I unlock my phone and my stomach drops as I see multiple text messages from my agent.

Bruce: Hey, Brody. Not sure if you’re still on vacation.

Bruce: Still waiting on your thoughts of the offer from the Storm.

Bruce: If you could give me a call in the next few days. They’re waiting on us.

I glance up at Aubrey, wondering if she saw the messages. As if sensing that I’m watching her, she peeks up at me, her blue eyes flashing between me and my phone before meeting my gaze.

“It nearly vibrated off the table. I had to catch it before it fell.” Her voice softens. “They want you back, don’t they?”

“Yeah. Seems that way.” I run a hand through my hair.

“That’s great, Brody. You should take it.”

“I don’t know if I want to,” I say, stepping closer to her.

“Oh?” Aubrey looks up at me. “Why not?”

I take a deep breath before saying, “I made peace with being done. With the end of my career. Besides, there’s something I want more than hockey now.”

“What’s that?” She tilts her head, studying me.

“Us. You. I want you.”

“Us?” she repeats.