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Except, in her version, my father was doting and proud instead of bitter and dead.
Ooop
My schedule during the season is terrible. I spend three out of every five weeks on the road, and I spend ninety percent of my waking hours either playing hockey or thinking about hockey—or wishing I was either playing or thinking about hockey.
Dude might need a hobby
Summer Callahan does not find me the least bit intimidating. Instead, she seems to find joy in sparring with me, even provoking me. I like it way too much. Pretty sure that means I’m in serious trouble.
“Sorry, I don’t speak grunt. Try again?”
Dead
Am I a strong, independent woman? Absolutely. Does it feel amazing to know this man has made an effort to protect me? To demand better behavior from his teammate? Hell, yes.
I guess it’s good one of us isn’t scared—because she scares the hell out of me.
“Clearly, the ones pertaining to dating are the most relevant for me,” Van says, motioning up and down his body like his person is more than enough evidence as to why, “since I’m so much better at it than the rest of the team.”
“Dumbo, what’s your real name?” Dumbo stands up, folds his arm across his waist, and bows forward like he’s addressing the British monarch. “Prescott Lawrence Cavendish, the third, at your service.” Alec, Van, and Tucker all lift their hands in unison, like they’re tipping their hats in formal greeting.
“And we call you Dumbo because…?” Dumbo stands up straight and pushes his blond hair away from his face, then wiggles his ears up and down.
“Seriously? Does anyone just start dating anymore? Why does it feel like we’re all living inside a rom-com?”
Oh no! They are becoming self aware!
“Kiss me,” she repeats. “If you want them to know you’re spoken for, then show them you belong to me.”
Yes girl!
We make eye contact, and I smile, lifting my hand to the glass. He stops directly opposite and lifts his glove to the same spot. And then he smiles. Not the little half-grin I’ve seen whenever I tease him, or the annoying smirk he gives his teammates when he thinks they’re being ridiculous. This smile is wide and real and it makes his eyes crinkle at the corners and it’s possibly the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.
“That’s what happened. And you made the grumpiest grump of all smile like a kid on Christmas morning.” “I’ve never seen him smile like that,” I say. “Um, no one has ever seen him smile like that. If we wanted to sell the fact that you’ve tamed the brooding beast, that just did
“Got it,” Summer says, her voice coy. “So you’re saying I can warm my ice-cube feet underneath your butt. So glad we cleared that up.”
I don’t need a rule book with this woman, I need a survival guide.
picture of Nathan frowning sternly
What would I do without you? Summer Probably play terrible hockey.
If this is just an excuse to check out my butt, I’m fake breaking up with you.
Nothing like a little vomit in your hair to really crank up the mood.
I’ve completely fallen for this man. Inexplicably. Maybe even cosmically, which is the stupidest thing I’ve ever said, and I still mean it.
“I know you heard this from the judge, but I’m going to say it again. You’re getting a second chance here, son. I don’t want you to waste it. I’ve seen a lot of players make a mess of their lives”—his expression sobers as his gaze moves from Blake to me, then back to Blake again—“who failed to realize how much the company they kept impacted the men they were becoming. Do better. Surround yourself with men who do better, who inspire you to greatness. Good teammates and good friends will always want what is best for you as an individual.”
😭😭😭
“Yeah, man,” Blake says. “Gotta land a wife before you get fat and ugly.”
Even though he spends his free time listening to classical music and reading books and doing crossword puzzles, he’s curious by nature and loves to make people feel seen and appreciated. Especially people who are important to the women in his life.
We love a good dad
“Did I tell you I finally figured out what enforcers do on the ice?” He narrows his gaze, like he can’t quite tell if I’m joking or not. “You did not,” he says slowly. I shrug, like I fully expected his answer. “Okay. Just checking.” Nathan freezes, holding my gaze before the brightest, most beautiful smile stretches across his face. Then he throws his head back, eyes closed, and my very grumpy, perfectly imperfect, love-of-my-life hockey player starts to laugh.
