Page 112 of Rookie Moves

Beau subtly jerks his head to the left, and when my gaze follows in that direction, I see a man sitting on the far side of the bar. His body is angled toward us, and he has a notebook in his lap. He’s trying to appear casual and aloof, but I’ve seen my fair share of reporters to know he’s waiting for the perfect moment to take a photo and share it on the internet.

“Beau Rousseau and Colby McKay spotted ahead of the NHL Draft.”

“They’re vultures,” Beau continues, and I return my attention to him. “They don’t care that you’re a human being or that it’s impossible for one person to carry a team. Being cruel and malicious makes them money, and that’s all they care about.”

The hint of frustration in his voice makes me wonder if he’s struggling since the Steelheads lost the Cup. I haven’t been online to see what people have been saying, but judging by the tension that’s appeared in his shoulders, I can’t help but assume the world hasn’t been kind to him.

“Thank you,” I say, swallowing roughly. “For meeting me and for the advice. I really appreciate it.”

Beau’s mouth lifts in a crooked smile. “I’m here for you anytime, okay? I might be shit at answering my phone, but you’re not alone in this, so whenever you need someone, I’ve got your back.”

The back of my eyes stings as I say, “Thanks, that means a lot.”

We finish our drinks, and then I purposely stand to shield Beau from the reporter’s view as we head toward the elevator. I don’t know what’s going on with him, but I have this need to protect him.

Stepping out onto the floor where I’m staying, I say goodbye to Beau and promise to keep in touch. As I walk down the hall to my parents’ suite, where my suit is, I pull out my phone and bring up the text thread with Tyler.

The two messages he sent before he went home to Arizona stare back at me unanswered. My stomach flutters with nerves as my thumbs hover over the keyboard.

I don’t want to wait until after the draft to message him. I might be crossing boundaries, but he needs to know what he means to me. He needs to know that regardless of what happens tonight, I still want him with me.

And he needs to know that I still love him.

With my pulse pounding in my ear, I check to see if I’m alone before ducking into a small alcove at the end of the hallway and pressing the call button. My heart sinks into my stomach when it goes to voicemail, but I don’t hang up.

Leaning back into the wall, I gaze out the window as the people of Vancouver go about their day and try to steady my voice as I wait for the beep.

“Hey, it’s me. I know you asked for some time, and this isn’t me chasing up, but I wanted to let you know I just met up with Beau Rousseau.” I’m sure he’ll be able to hear the smile in my voice. “I know, wild, right? I promise I didn’t go all fanboy on him, but he gave me some really solid advice. I’ll tell you about it sometime. Anyway…” I bite the corner of my lip and quietly say, “I don’t expect you to call me back, but I just wanted you to know that I love you, Tyler, and I really fucking miss you. And I hope that one day, I don’t have to imagine what it’s like to see your face when I wake up, because I’ll get to do it every day.”

It beeps, indicating the message has ended. My head falls back until it hits the wall with a quiet thud.

I don’t know if I’ve done the right thing, but it’s like a weight has been lifted off my chest, allowing my lungs to move a little easier.

Locking my phone, I slide it into my pocket, then head back to my parents’ suite to start getting ready for the draft.

While my future is uncertain in terms of where I’ll play, the one thing I do know is Tyler Beckmann owns my heart.

And it’s now up to him when he wants to claim it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

TYLER

“Thanks, man, I appreciate it,” I say to the driver as he hands over my suitcase.

“No problem. Have a great day,” he replies.

Stepping onto the sidewalk, I raise my hand in a small wave as he gets back into his car. Before he can pull away, I rate him five stars on the app, making sure to add a generous tip.

I’m pretty sure he broke some speeding laws to get me here, so it’s the least I can do.

As I turn to face the hotel, my heart hammers against my ribs. Between flight delays and waiting for a taxi, I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it in time, but now I’m here, I can breathe a sigh of relief.

The conversation with my dad went as expected. There was a lot of shouting and cursing, and he demanded I hand my credit card back, but it doesn’t matter anymore.

I’m in Vancouver now, and I’m close to being with Colby again.

Dragging my suitcase behind me, I walk into the hotel lobby and stand off to the side as I open Instagram. Tapping on the message thread with Callie, I let her know I’m here, then notice the red bubble on my phone app.