Since I was a kid, making it into the World Hockey League was the ultimate goal. No relationship could match my first love, and after my rough childhood, I wasn't putting my heart on the line.
When Bellerive makes a successful bid to move the Califo...
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"Done," Logan says without missing a beat. "You lead; I'll follow."
I can't believe I've let the part of me that wants him to rise to the surface. Since that night at Wino Wine Bar, I've been stuffing down my attraction. There's only one way something less professional makes any sense. Firm rules. A set timeline. Maybe Matilda was right. To truly get over someone, you need to get under someone else.
"You don't even know what I'm going to suggest," I say.
"If the outcome is that I get you, I'll agree to anything." His deep voice is so earnest that it makes my heart stutter.
"Only this season. At the end of this hockey season when you go back to your apartment in California for the off season, whatever we're doing is over. No long distance. No lingering anything. It's whatever it is for this season, and then it's over. Next season, we're back to being just colleagues."
"Short term?" A line appears in his brow.
"I think it's easier for us to work together after if we have clear boundaries. Short term. Casual." I catch myself at his deepening frown. "Not casual like we're seeing other people. Just you and me, but not serious. Get whatever this is out of our system."
"Not serious?"
I can almost see the wheels churning as he thinks through what I've said, calculates the possibilities. If we can't keep fighting the physical pull, my rules are the only sensible way forward. Ever since I left my office, I've been going over and over how anything could work between us.
"You're twenty-one." Which is one of the biggest factors in my mind.
"I fucking hate when you say that."
"Why?"
"Because I don't think it matters."
"What's the most important thing to you?"
"Winning," he says without hesitation.
"In hockey."
"Honestly, in everything. But yeah, my first priority is hockey."
"I want kids someday, so being ten years older than you matters to me, even if it doesn't matter to you." I keep going, even though I haven't said any of this out loud to anyone before. "I just got out of a really shitty relationship, and I don't want another one that drags on longer than it should. My priorities aren't, ultimately, the same as yours. As long as we know that going in, and we stay firm on our timeline, then I think..." I hesitate for a beat, grappling with how to phrase it. "We could have fun."
"Fun?" he asks, and it's possible he's offended.
"But if at any point," I barrel on, "things are even a little bit toxic between us, I'm pulling the plug early. I won't—I won't stand for any—any..." But I can't get truth out. "Even if it's a mistake."
