“Rowan,” I whisper, “You know I knew who you were the night of the wedding. But I didn’t go up to your room because of who you are in hockey or who you are in Chicago. I went up to your room because you made me laugh and the ease between us. I thought this would end that night, but it didn’t. I’m not sleeping with you so I can tell people I’m sleeping with Rowan Landry, professional hockey player. It’s just hard to separate you from the icon you are. Does that make sense?”
