When Alec Met Evie (Appies, #6)

by Jenny Proctor

Don’t get me wrong—my teammates deserve to be happy. But seeing the ones I’m closest to suddenly coupled off, three guys married and two in serious relationships—I have to admit. I didn’t see this one coming. I’m the Appies captain. And I’m spending my Friday night with the rookies because all of my friends are at some sort of couples’ party. They invited me. They aren’t jerks. But I’m not enough of a masochist to go to something like that on my own. Even sitting at Mulligan’s with a pair of eighteen-year-old defensemen is better than watching my friends pretend I’m as interesting as the women in their lives.

“Dude, she’s checking you out,” Carter says, tilting his head toward the bar. I glance over my shoulder and recognize a blond woman I’ve talked to before. Jessica? Jasmine? Jennifer? We make eye contact, and she lifts her fingers in a fluttery wave. Last season, I might have invited her over. Bought her a drink. Charmed her like I know I can. But in my current mood, I can’t bring myself to care. “Who’s checking who out?” Tucker says as he rejoins the table, fresh beer in hand. He was the one who convinced me to come to Mulligan’s in the first place—something about camaraderie and helping the rookies feel like they’re part of the team. That used to be me. Looking out for people, making sure we’re united on the ice and off. But Tucker has been stepping up lately. It’s a good thing, but I have to wonder what happened to the player I was last season and if he’ll ever make an appearance again. Theo tilts his head toward the woman. “She is. Been staring at Captain all night.” Tucker looks over his shoulder. “You know her, right? I can’t remember her name.” “Doesn’t matter,” I say before draining the last of my drink. “I’m not interested.”

I glance at my watch. “All right, I’m out,” I say. “Already?” Theo asks. “Already,” I repeat. “And you guys shouldn’t be far behind me. You’ll probably be on the ice a lot tomorrow.” Rookies usually are in preseason games, so I fully expect Coach Davis to start these two over me and Nathan, even though we usually defend with the first line. I hold up a warning finger. “That means no drinking. Even if someone offers.” Theo and Carter nod in unison, their faces looking more similar than ever. “Right. Yes. Understood,” Carter says. I glance over at Tucker. “Sorry to bail early.” He waves a dismissive hand. “You already stayed longer than I thought you would.” I tilt my head toward the pair of rookies. “Keep an eye on them?” “You know I will.” Tucker cocks an eyebrow and smirks. “I know you older guys need more sleep than the rest of us.” I clamp a hand down on his shoulder and squeeze a little too hard. “Do you think it’s my age or my sleep that makes me faster than you?” Carter and Theo let out identical oooohs, but Tucker only chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. Get out of here, old man.” I leave the bar, ignoring the ache in my right knee. Considering how I’ve been feeling lately, old man isn’t that far off. At thirty-two, I’m one of the oldest guys on the team, maybe even in the league. And my body seems to be taking every opportunity to let me know. Even after an off-season of careful training and intentional rest, I’m already feeling my time on the ice, and we haven’t even played a ...

The late September air is cool when I step into the parking lot, fall leaves crunching under my feet. I take a deep breath of mountain air. I used to think I’d move back to New York as soon as I could, but I’m not so sure anymore. It’d be nice to be closer to family, but there’s something about these mountains that makes me think I could live here too. Even when I no longer have to.

my phone buzzes with a call, and I answer it through my car’s sound system. “Hey, Meg,” I say. “Hey!” My younger sister’s voice comes through with all the enthusiasm I’ve grown to expect. “I didn’t think you’d answer.” “No?” “Well, I mean, it’s Friday night, and you’re you. You aren’t out? On a date?” “On my way home,” I say. “Got a game tomorrow.” “Ohhh, that’s right. I’ve seen the news talking about it. Everyone’s out to take down the Calder Cup champions. Did you read the Sports News Daily article?” she asks. “They were not nice to you.” The article Megan is referencing wasn’t nice to me. Well, it was sort of nice to me, but in a backhanded way. The point of the article was to identify all the players on the Appies hockey team who should be playing in the NHL, listing most of our first and second lines, as well as me and Nathan, who I usually play with as a defensive partner. It’s not entirely untrue. Most AHL contracts are signed through the team’s NHL affiliate so players can easily shift from one organization to the other, according to what’s needed and where. But the Appies aren’t typical. With our social media presence and huge fan following, there’s a lot of money in th...

Anyway, apparently it’s this really big deal that she was chosen because she’ll be learning from one of the best in the business. It just means she has to move to Harvest Hollow.” “Ah,” I say, suddenly sensing where this conversation is headed. I shouldn’t be surprised. This is generally how Megan operates. If she loves someone, she’ll do anything for them and, by extension, expect me to do anything for them too. The only problem is, Megan loves everyone. Even strangers. She once gave my phone number to a couple of Appies fans she sat with on an airplane, promising them I’d be happy to get them tickets. That only happened once because while her love knows no bounds, mine does. And it’s firmly on the side of protecting my privacy. “So I’m guessing you’re asking me to help her move?” “That would be amazing,” Megan says. “I know I’m always doing this, but this time, Evie really needs the help. She doesn’t know anyone in North Carolina. And she’s basically like a sister to you, so you really have to say yes.” She’s not quite like a sister, seeing as how I haven’t seen or spoken to her in years. And my season is just about to start. I’m not exactly rolling around in free time. “You know I would, Meg, but I’m gone more than I’m not.” “No, I know,” Megan says. “But we actually checked your game schedule and picked a timeframe that won’t conflict. You shouldn’t be traveling at all when she gets into town.” It’s the most Megan thing I’ve ever heard. Of course she would check my gam...

“Did she for real base her move on when I’ll be in town?” “She has to be there when her apprenticeship starts no matter what,” Megan says. “But she wants to get into town a couple of weeks early so she has time to get settled with Juno and figure out childcare. She literally has no one else who can help. Please? I promised her you’d be willing. She’s already going to feel so overwhelmed because Juno is only four months old.” “Juno?” “Her daughter.” I groan. “Megan. Evie has a kid?” I don’t know a lot about kids, but I’m guessing they make everything more complicated. Especially moving. “A very small one,” Megan says. “She won’t get in the way at all.” I huff out a laugh. “I highly doubt that’s true.” “Probably not,” Megan says. “But if you can’t help, I’m going to have to miss a week of class to do it myself, and that will probably mean failing at least two of my classes, which would set me back⁠—” “Fine. Fine!” I say, cutting her off. “I’ll help her.” I hear the smile in Megan’s voice when she says, “Thank you. You’re the best brother ever.” I lean back in my seat. “I can’t believe Evie has a kid. Is she even old enough for that?” “She’s twenty-three,” Megan says. “Three months older than me.” “Is she married?” “Alec. I was in her wedding. You saw all the pictures.” A few vague memories of Evie’s wedding pop into my mind. Or more just memories of thinking she was way too young to be getting married. “Oh, that’s right. I do remember. But if she’s married, why does she need...

you know where she’s moving?” I ask. “I can text you the address,” Megan says. “It’s a house on this cute street with tons of trees. It looked totally adorable in the pictures.” “She hasn’t seen it in person?” “It’s just a rental, and of course she hasn’t. She just had a baby. It’s not like she’s had time to hop on down to North Carolina to check things out.” I finally climb out of my truck, switching Megan’s call back onto my phone and turning on the speaker. “If you send me the address soon, I’ll drive over and check it out. Make sure it’s in an okay part of town.” This concession at least makes me feel better about my initially grumpy response. “That would be awesome. See? I told her you’d be willing to help. She’ll be so happy to have a friend in town.” “I’ll do what I can,” I say. “But remind her how much I’m gone. And I will be useless when it comes to the baby. I don’t do babies.” Megan scoffs as I let myself inside. “What does that even mean? You don’t do babies?” “It means exactly what it means. I’m not a babysitter.” “I would not have asked you to babysit.” “You just had someone plan an entire move around my schedule without asking me first. Would babysitting really be...

Thanks for helping Evie. Can I just give her your number?” “Sure.” “K, I will. But Alec⁠—” Her words cut off, and I wait as I toss my keys onto the kitchen counter and toe off my shoes. “What?” I finally prompt. She takes a breath, then hesitates before finally saying, “I’m just trying to decide if I need to say what I was thinking out loud.” “Just say it.” “It’s just that Evie has really been through something. She needs your help, but she doesn’t need you to be handsome and charming.” “What does that mean?” “It means that you’re you, and women love you.” “Megan. She’s, what, nine years younger than I am? I promise I’m capable of helping a woman without asking her out.” “I know. I know! That’s not even what I’m saying because honestly, I wouldn’t hate it if you did ask her out. I just mean maybe not right now, okay? She’s fragile.” “The thought has never occurred to me. She’s your age. I’m way too old for her.” Megan is quiet for a beat before she says, “You might feel differently when you see her. She’s changed a lot since high school.” “Unless she miraculously aged five years, I doubt it.” “Okay, okay,” my si...

Once upon a time, I used to love road trips. The snacks, the music, the endless stretch of road ahead of me. But that was before I drove seven hundred miles with one arm stretched into the backseat, hooked over the edge of Juno’s rear-facing car seat so she could hold onto my fingers. Or so I could retrieve her pacifier or stroke her forehead or tickle her shoulder in what were mostly fruitless attempts to calm her fussing. Not to mention the fifteen billion times we stopped at rest stops to nurse or change diapers or question every decision I’ve ever made in my life. Now that I’m finally standing outside my new home in Harvest Hollow, I’m pretty sure I never need another road trip for as long as I live.

As long as my family is in White Plains, a part of my heart will always be in New York. But I’m liking the change and challenge of being out on my own. If only because I’m more ready than ever for a fresh start. Or, fresh-ish? I can’t completely start over when I’m financially dependent on my mother-in-law. Ex-mother-in-law now, I guess. But I wouldn’t be here without her, and honestly, I’m lucky she still wants to be involved at all. After her son basically signed over his parental rights in the divorce, giving me full custody of Juno, not every mother-in-law would want to be. Devon is the youngest in his family, a surprise baby ten years younger than his closest sibling. His dad passed away a few years back, but his mom, Karen, is an active, busy grandma. Her three daughters are all married, all living in the same coastal Oregon town where they grew up, and they’ve given Karen seven grandkids that she sees all the time. But she still flew out to see me right after Juno was born, still talked to me like I was as much a part of her family as I was before the divorce. Best of all, she apologized profusely for her son’s ridiculous behavior and promised she would help me financially for as long as I needed it. It killed me to take her up on the offer. My identity is rooted firmly in self-sufficiency, and having someone send money every month simply because I believed all the lies her son told me feels wrong. Like I’m taking advantage. If I only had to think about myself, I pr...

First order of business? Make the house in front of me look as cute as it did in the rental listing. It’s mostly what I saw in the pictures. Same front porch, same bright blue shutters. But the overflowing flowerpots are nowhere to be found. Same with the porch swing and the neatly manicured front lawn. I was excited about that porch swing. I thought it might be a nice place to sit with Juno. I take a deep breath and look back at the car. It’s going to be fine. It has to be fine, because I’m here, and I’m definitely not driving back to White Plains. And really, I shouldn’t be so critical of the house. I just need to warm it up a little. I can’t exactly expect spring flowers in the middle of fall. But if I add a few of those pumpkins I saw all over Maple Street and some brightly colored mums, the house will be halfway to what I expected, just like that. I move back to my Honda and pull Juno’s carrier out of the back seat. She was asleep when I pulled up, but she’s awake now, staring up at me with wide blue eyes. She smiles when she sees me and kicks her pajama-clad feet. Just looking at her stills some of the panic creeping into my heart. Nothing calms me faster than knowing I have to be calm for her.

“I’m sorry, do we—was it the landlord who told you about me?” Her eyes widen like she’s just remembered something very important. “Oh! I skipped right over that part, didn’t I? Look at me, walking up here like we’re already friends when I’m nothing but a stranger to you.” “No, I’m so happy to meet you. Just a little confused.” Ruth smiles. “We have friends in common. My nephew, Malik, he’s the manager of the Appies hockey team. He told me one of his players had a friend moving in who might be looking for a little bit of help with the baby.” My heart speeds the slightest bit at the thought. “Alec?” She nods. “That’s the one. I met him when he was here fixing your steps the other day. I tell you what. He’s just as handsome in person as he is on television.” Alec. As soon as my best friend Megan learned I was moving to North Carolina, she all but coerced me into letting her older brother, who’s the captain of the pro hockey team based in Harvest Hollow, help me move in. I clearly need it—it’s not like Juno can help me move a couch—but it’s still trippy to think about seeing Alec again. We’ve texted twice since Megan gave me his number, just enough to confirm what time I would arrive. But we haven’t talked at all, and I haven’t seen him in years. Not since I was eighteen and he watched Megan and me walk across our high school graduation stage. Back then, I thought the sun rose and set on Alec Sheridan. He was nine years older than me—too old for my crush to ever be anything bu...

when Juno was three weeks old, cranky and colicky, I was up in the middle of the night, pacing through my parents’ living room trying to soothe her, mindlessly scrolling Instagram reels to keep myself awake. A video of Alec popped up, an interview in which he talked about his favorite parts of the game. It was only four minutes long, but something about the tone of his deep voice must have soothed Juno because she settled as soon as it started and stayed quiet until it ended. When I scrolled onto the next video, she started fussing again, so we went back to Alec. It worked like magic. Three and a half months later, I’ve listened to that four-minute video no less than a hundred times.

Alec’s Instagram account isn’t the biggest of the Appies, but he still has over five hundred thousand followers. That’s a lot of people. But I knew him before. I know how much he loves his sister. How good and kind and protective he is. I was there when he got the phone call about his hockey scholarship to Cornell, and I went to countless college games with Megan, the two of us wearing matching jerseys, Alec’s name and number printed on the back. I heard about him signing with the Appies the same day it happened, when Megan called to tell me the good news, and I was there when he graduated from college. In my mind, Alec was larger than life. Perfect in all the ways a man should be perfect. It’s nothing short of surreal to think of him coming over here early, checking on my house and fixing my steps. Apparently, imagining Alec wielding a hammer is more than enough to reignite my long-dormant feelings, because a twinge of something familiar pushes against my ribcage, making my chest flush with heat and my skin tingle with awareness. Except…no. Those are not feelings I need. I can feel gratitude, maybe even hints of admiration. But now is not the time for a crush, and not just because he’s my best friend’s older brother. Barely a year out from my divorce, I’m not even sure I’m capable of the emotions a relationship would require. Not that I would actually expect the internet’s favorite hockey captain to ever be interested in me.

Sometimes I feel like my divorce acted like a factory reset, and I’m having to learn how to love and trust all over again.

The only exception to the very depressing condition of my heart is Juno. Loving her is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. Most of the time, I have no idea how to mother her or teach her or raise her into a capable human. But loving her—that’s like breathing. In the carrier at my feet, Juno starts to fuss, and I pick it up, swinging it back and forth. She’s going to need to eat soon and probably needs her diaper changed. “Alec is my best friend Megan’s older brother,” I say to Ruth. “That’s why he’s helping out. I’ve known him since I was a kid.” “Is that right?” Ruth says. “Well, it’s wonderful he’s here and willing to help. Now, I know we’ve just met and you’re under no obligation to be my friend, but I retired last year, after teaching for thirty-seven years. My kids are off living their lives and haven’t given me any grandchildren yet, and my husband passed six months ago, leaving me all alone in a house that’s too empty, too big for just me.” My heart squeezes at the mention of her husband’s passing, but Ruth blazes on, her expression shuttering just enough for me to sense she’d rather not dwell on it. “I’ve got a knack for babies,” she continues, “so if you need a helping ha...

I fight to steady my breathing as I survey the damage in my new house. Every inch of carpet that I can see from the door looks wet, and from what I can see of the kitchen, just visible around the corner, there’s standing water there as well. “Uh-oh,” Ruth says from behind me. “That doesn’t look good.” Emotion pinches my chest, and tears rush to my eyes. My logical brain knows this isn’t the end of the world. That whatever randomly flooded my house, my landlord, who has so far proven to be both helpful and kind, will very likely fix it. But my logical brain checked out somewhere along I-85. Dreaming of this house, this cute little cottage where Juno and I can start over, has been a big motivator through all the stress and emotion of the past few months. I imagined Juno’s room, crib set up next to the big window I saw in the rental listing, a fall breeze fluttering the curtains. I imagined my tiny couch and overstuffed chair positioned in the living room, full of fluffy blankets and throw pillows, warm lamplight casting the room in a cozy glow. That feels so impossibly far from where I am now. I swallowed the missing porch swing. But a flood? I just don’t have it in me. As if to punctuate the hopelessness of the moment with an exclamation point, Juno lets out an extra loud wail, and my milk lets down, seeping through my bra and soaking the thin cotton of my t-shirt. I look down at my leaky, too-large boobs and sigh. “Now, now,” Ruth says quietly beside me, her hand squeezing...

Ruth manages to trace the flood to the still-leaking water heater and turns off the water to the whole house, but that doesn’t do anything to help the inches of water already pooling on the floor. The carpet is soaked, the wood floors in the kitchen are warped, the baseboards and several inches of drywall are completely waterlogged. And I can’t get my landlord to answer his phone. Though I’m not sure how much help he’ll be until he’s home from his backpacking trip, even if he does answer. I don’t know a lot about water damage, but I’m guessing this is going to take days, maybe even weeks to fix. Which means Juno and I are essentially homeless. It’s too cold to sleep in my car, which means…I can get a hotel, maybe? Or…I guess that’s my only option. A hotel. A wave of nausea makes my skin feel clammy, and a cold sweat breaks out on my forehead. I can’t afford a hotel. I was basically scraping the bottom of the barrel to pay for the move and get myself down here. I’ll get another deposit from my ex-inlaws at the first of next month, and I have savings. But there isn’t an ounce of wiggle room in the spreadsheet I made for myself, in the meticulous calculations I did to make sure those savings will stretch and supplement my income for the entire nine months of my apprenticeship. There’s no way I’ll make it if I have to spend a week—maybe longer—in a hotel room. Ruth eventually coaxes me away from the porch and down the sidewalk to her house where I finally sit down to feed Juno...

“Have you heard from Alec?” “I sent him a message and told him where I am,” I say, “but he hasn’t responded yet.” I almost told Alec not to come—it’s not like we can move anything into the house—but the moving pod that was delivered just over a week ago is supposed to be picked up tomorrow, and I’d rather not pay to keep it for another month. Especially if my already stretched bank account is going to pay for a hotel. So my hope is that instead of moving everything inside, we can move it all into the garage. “I’m sure he’ll find you,” Ruth says. “Now, eat. I promise it’s delicious.” Forty-five minutes later, Juno is fed and down for a nap in the portable crib I retrieved from my car, my belly is full of the best chicken pot pie I’ve ever had, and Ruth is entertaining me with stories about her children, a daughter and a son who are, respectively, studying medicine at Harvard and serving as an officer in the Marine Corps. “Your kids sound amazing,” I say. She stands and moves into the small kitchen just off the living room, dishes clinking together as she says, “They’ve made their mamma proud.” When she returns, she hands me a second plate, this one holding some sort of apple dessert. “It’s a crumble,” she says. “And you might like it more than the pot pie.” “Hard to imagine how.” I take the plate and scoop up a generous bite. “Oh man, Ruth. This is unbelievable.” She beams, and I get the sense it really does bring her joy to feed people. Which, I’m just saying, there are wo...

I press a hand to my stomach, a vain attempt to quell the nerves fluttering in my belly. I’m already tense from the emotional upheaval of the last hour, so the thought of seeing Alec again has me dangerously close to throwing up. I take several deep breaths, in through my nose and out through my mouth, finishing just in time for Alec to walk into the living room, flanked by three broad-shouldered men I immediately recognize as his teammates. There’s something to be said about seeing four professional athletes in one very small living room, especially when they’re as handsome as this group. Though, to be honest, it’s hard to peel my eyes off Alec to even notice the other guys. He was handsome when I was a kid. And I’ve seen him online enough to know he’s still handsome. But seeing him in person is something else entirely. He isn’t quite as broad or as bulky as his teammates, but that’s hardly a fair comparison because two of the guys behind him have to be close to six-foot-five. Alec still looks every inch the athlete, well-muscled and fit. His hair is longer than I remember, and he’s got a faint five o’clock shadow dusting his jawline. I quickly stand, and his eyes move over me before catching and holding my gaze. I bite my lip, wondering what he’s noticing. What he thinks of me. Annnd then I think about the milk stains on my t-shirt and the baby barf on my shoulder. Nothing like a little bodily fluid to ground me back in reality. Alec Sheridan is not here for me to ogle h...

Alec smiles, his lips lifting a little more on the left than the right, just like they always did. “Hey, nerd.” His voice is a low and delicious rumble, sending a wave of goosebumps skittering across my skin. It’s not a wonder Juno loves it so much. Then it registers that Alec just called me nerd. It’s a nickname I earned my freshman year of high school when I took a history textbook to one of Alec’s hockey games. Hearing it now brings an unexpected sense of home to an afternoon that, so far, has pushed me completely out of my comfort zone. I’m a stranger to North Carolina, even to Ruth, as kind as she’s being. But I’m not a stranger to Alec. I grin with relief, emotion making my eyes sting with moisture. I had no idea how much I ne...

The woman standing in front of me can’t be Evie Thomas. She’s got the same blue eyes, the same wavy hair falling over her shoulders. But everything else I’m noticing—it’s breaking my brain. Dark lashes, full, pink lips, creamy skin, subtle curves. Logically, I know I shouldn’t be surprised. Megan warned me. Reminded me that Evie is in her twenties now. She’s been married, had a baby, experienced parts of life I haven’t even started to think about. But in my head, she’s always been my kid sister’s best friend, cheering from the stands at my college hockey games. This version of Evie doesn’t fit in that box.

She’s all grown up, and she’s gorgeous. Still Megan’s best friend, and still too young for me. But gorgeous.

Beside me, Camden digs an elbow into my ribs, and I realize I’ve been staring. I said hello, called Evie a nerd, then she smiled, and I apparently lost my ability to speak. Luckily, Evie fills the silence for me. “I am never going to live that down, am I? It was one game.” I glance over my shoulder at my teammates. “She brought a textbook to one of my college playoff games.” “I had a really important history exam,” she counters. “Sounds like a logical choice to me,” Felix says from just over my right shoulder. “Especially if the alternative was watching you play,” Nathan adds. The insult doesn’t hold an ounce of water coming from Nathan, who has been my defensive partner for the past four seasons. We’re rarely on the ice without the other, so if I play well, he usually does too, and vice versa. But then Camden adds, “Without Nathan next to you to make you look good, watching had to be painful.” My teammates chuckle, and Evie’s eyes dance as she looks us over, like she finds them dogging on ...

I look at Evie. “Want to point us in the right direction? It shouldn’t take long with all four of us working.” Despite their teasing, considering what Megan told me about Evie, I’m glad it’s these three teammates who are with me. Camden is the only one who is single, but he’s still hung up on a woman he met over the summer while visiting his family in Savannah. He hasn’t said much about it, but he’s clearly still licking his wounds over what happened when he left. Felix got married at the end of the off-season, and Nathan is in a committed relationship. Even if they weren’t, I’d trust all three of these guys to be respectful in any circumstance, but it feels particularly important this time. If Evie’s ex-husband walked out on her, leaving her pregnant and alone, she probably doesn’t have the highest opinion of men. Maybe that’s what Megan meant when she said Evie was fragile.

there’s been a slight change of plans.” After Ruth agrees to keep an eye on Juno, who must be sleeping somewhere, Evie leads the way, and we head down the sidewalk to her house. As we walk, she explains the flooding she found when she first opened her front door, then details her desire to just move everything into the garage instead. I hear and process her words, but I’m admittedly distracted by this more mature version of Evie’s voice, by the way she moves her hands as she talks as if to punctuate her words. Did she do that before? I can’t remember, but I like that she does it now. “And you still haven’t gotten through to your landlord?” I ask as we turn and head up her driveway. “Not yet. But he did warn me he’d be hard to reach for the next week or so. He’s backpacking in Yosemite. Either way, there’s no way I can sleep here tonight, so moving stuff into the garage will have to do.” I frown. “If you aren’t going to sleep here, where are you going to go?” She shrugs. “A hotel, probably.” Felix, who is a landlord himself, moves to Evie’s other side and starts asking questions about her lease. Meanwhile, all I can think about is the enormous house I’m living in all by myself. If Megan were here, she wouldn’t want Evie paying for a hotel. But…Evie has a baby. Do I really want a baby staying in my house? Would Evie even feel comfortable staying with me? After Sunday’s final preseason game, we’ll be on the road for close to a week. She’d basically have the whole place to her...

“You play violin, right?” I say, shifting the box forward. She glances at the music books and smiles. “I’m surprised you have to ask. I practiced at your house almost as much as mine.” A memory pops into my head of Evie playing the same simple song over and over again while I was home on break from college, trying to watch a movie with friends. She must have been in middle school at the time and had seemed upset when she crossed through the living room to Megan’s room, instrument case in hand. She’d sounded terrible—cracked and squeaky—nowhere near like actual music. But I’d refused to ask her to stop even when my friends complained. There had to be a reason she wasn’t practicing at home, and if the tears I noticed when she passed through were any indication, it probably had something to do with her brother, who’d been sick as long as I could remember. I must be frowning because Evie starts to laugh. “I know. I sounded terrible back then.” “No, no, that’s not what I was⁠—” She lifts an eyebrow, cutting off my protests, because I was thinking about how bad she sounded. But that wasn’t why I frowned. “I was just thinking about your brother,” I explain. “He was why you practiced at our place, wasn’t he? Brady, right? How’s he doing?” Her expression brightens. “He’s great. Totally cancer free. He’s a senior this year.” “Really? Wasn’t he just a few years younger than you? He’s still in high school?” “Five years younger,” she says easily. “It’s freaking my parents out that they...

I step to the side while Camden and Nathan bring in Evie’s mattress and lean it against the wall. “There are a few pillows in the back if you can’t handle anything heavier,” Nathan says, eyeing the crate of books with a grin. The last few weeks, I’ve been spending a lot of time with the trainers after practice, icing my knee, babying it like I have to if I have any hope of staying in the game. But then yesterday on the ice, Coach Davis made a comment about my age. “You aren’t as young as you used to be, Sheridan. This season, you have to play with your brain as much as your body.” Since then, the guys have been ribbing me with merciless consistency. My level of play hasn’t been impacted—at least I don’t think it has been—so the teasing has all been very good-natured. But I’m guessing if the guys knew the kind of pain I’m ignoring, they’d take the whole situation a little more seriously. Still, I can’t fault them for what they don’t know, and I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about it yet. “What was that about?” Evie asks as we watch Camden and Nathan walk back to the pod. “What was what about?” I ask. “The teasing? They just like to make fun of me for being old.” She eyes me curiously. “Okay. But it seemed like your face did a thing.” “A thing?” I raise my eyebrows, but it’s not lost on me that Evie just picked up on something being off when, so far, none of my friends have done the same.

“What do you think?” I ask Felix. He runs a hand through his hair. “The sooner you get someone over to start cleanup, the better. We could do a little with a push broom, get some of the standing water out, but it’s really a job that should be tackled by professionals.” He pulls out his phone. “I’m texting you the number of the guy I know. He did fast work at my place. He could probably have guys out here before nightfall.” “You think I should go ahead and call him? Even with the landlord not knowing what’s up?” “I would,” Felix says. “The longer the water sits, the worse things will get and the longer Evie will be without a home.” I nod as my phone buzzes with Felix’s text. “All right, cool. I’ll call right now.”

While I’m on the call, my phone buzzes several times. By the time I end the call and open my texts to see, I already know what I’m going to find. Sure enough, my teammates have blown up the dream team text thread we keep going between us. A while back, a journalist referred to the Appies starting line as The Dream Team, so we renamed our text thread as a joke. There are eight of us all total, seven who still play for the Appies, plus Wyatt who was with us last season, then signed with the Bruins and moved to Boston. Most of the time, I’m happy to stay connected with my teammates. Other times, the dream team texts make me want to throw my phone into the nearest lake. Nathan A heads up for those of you who weren’t present. When Alec saw Evie for the first time, he basically swallowed his own tongue. Camden Can confirm. Felix Honestly, it was hard to miss. Pretty sure he drooled. Van I’m sorry I missed it. Nathan It’s also worth noting that her house flooded from an exploding water heater, which means our good captain is probably going to invite her to stay at his place. Felix He’d better invite her. Alec, you do know you can’t let her stay in a hotel, right? Alec Of course I will. But this will not be a thing. Evie is like a sister. There was no tongue-swallowing. Definitely no drooling. Felix Good. Then it shouldn’t be a big deal when she moves in. Van How much younger is she? Alec Nine years. Van Nice. She can care for you in your old age. I pocket my phone, knowing that a...

I look up and see Evie walking down the sidewalk with Ruth, a baby in her arms. I stand and make my way toward her, meeting them at the foot of the driveway. The baby is facing outward in Evie’s arms. She has a head full of dark hair the same color as Evie’s and big blue eyes. As far as babies go, she’s pretty cute. I’ve never seen one with so much hair. The baby kicks her legs the slightest bit, and Evie looks down and smiles. “Are you saying hi to Alec?” she says to her daughter. She lifts her gaze to meet mine. “Alec, this is Juno.” I reach out and let Juno take my finger, her chubby fist closing around it with surprising grip. “Hey there, Juno,” I say, shaking her finger like it’s an official greeting. This makes the baby smile and something small turns over inside my heart. “I think she likes you,” Evie says. “Want to hold her?” “Oh, absolutely not,” I say, and Evie laughs. “I don’t know anything about babies.” “There’s only one way to learn,” Ruth says with a knowing grin. “Did your friends leave?” Evie asks, looking toward the curb. “I didn’t get to say thank you.” “They did, but they don’t need any thanks. They were happy to help. And they already agreed to come back when the house is done and you can officially move in.” Evie smiles, but it’s tight around the edges, and I can sense how much she hates needing this much help. I definitely shouldn’t tell her I just gave my credit card number to the disaster repair guy to secure their services. I’m pretty sure her lan...

Alec, help me convince this young lady that she does not need to stay in a hotel,” Ruth says, one hand propped on her hip. “I’ve got a spare guest room that she’s welcome to use, and I’d be more than happy to have the company.” A knot forms in my stomach. I should feel relief. Evie would probably feel more comfortable at Ruth’s, and I’m sure the elderly woman knows a lot more about babies than I do. But what I really feel is a strange sense of disappointment. “It’s so kind of you to offer,” Evie says. “But you already told me your daughter is coming to visit next week. I can’t take up the guest room when she’ll need it, especially not with a baby who doesn’t care if anyone else in the house gets any sleep.” “As I said, there’s a pull-out sofa in the office that Desiree can use,” Ruth chides, but I understand Evie’s hesitance, especially with the open-ended nature of her current situation. “Actually, I’ve got more than a few empty guest rooms at my house,” I say before I can overthink it. “They’re on the opposite side of the house from my room, so you’d have plenty of privacy and your own bathroom. Plus, I’m on the road with the Appies all next week, and the house is empty when I...

I guess, since I still haven’t heard from my landlord, I just need to call someone about the house,” Evie says. She looks at me. “Felix mentioned he knows someone. Did he happen to give you the number?” “It’s already taken care of,” I say. “They’ll be here before the end of the day.” Evie holds my gaze, lips pressed together for a long moment before she turns and hands Juno to Ruth then steps closer and wraps herself around my waist in a tight hug. At first, the surprise of the gesture keeps me from responding, but it only takes a moment for me to catch up and settle my arms around her shoulders. She smells amazing, like apples and cinnamon, which is something considering the day she’s had, and it’s all I can do not to lower my nose to her hair and breathe in a lungful of her scent. I’m sure I’ve probably hugged Evie before, when she was offering congratulations after a game. Or maybe after her and Megan’s high school graduation. But I’ve never hugged her like this, and I’m distracted by how good it feels to have her against me. “Thank you, Alec,” she whispers. She gives me one last squeeze, then lets me go, stepping back as she lifts her hands to wipe at her eyes. My throat goe...

I really didn’t see this coming. I knew Alec lived in North Carolina. That he would help me move, that if I ever wanted tickets to a hockey game, I could probably text him and he’d hook me up. I did not expect to follow him through Harvest Hollow to his house, where I will be staying for the next few days, possibly even longer depending on how long it takes to dry out my rental. Not that I’m surprised Alec offered. He’s always been a good guy. It was, admittedly, a tiny gut punch to hear him refer to me as a sister, especially right after the hug to rival all hugs. Wrapping my arms around Alec’s waist, feeling him tug me even tighter against his chest…it basically lit my skin on fire. Which is an enormous deal because I haven’t felt any kind of fire in months. I wasn’t even sure I was still capable. But his words were the douse of cold water I needed, especially now that we’ll be living together.

So how has it been with Alec? Is it weird to be around him without me there?” I think about Alec breezing into Ruth’s living room and calling me nerd. “I thought it might be, but it’s totally fine. He’s been really nice.” “Good. I warned him he’d better be on his best behavior.” Juno whines a little from the backseat, so when we stop at the next stop sign, I shift the car into park and turn around long enough to give her a pacifier. “What does that mean?” I ask Megan. “Why does he need to behave?” “Come on,” she says. “You know you used to have a crush on him when we were kids.” “Please tell me you didn’t tell him that.” “Pretty sure he could tell,” Megan says. “But no, I didn’t mention it. I just told him he’d better not try to woo you now that you’re all grown up and a smoking hot bombshell.” I scoff. “Woo? Who still says woo? Besides, I promise he won’t try. He literally just told me he sees me like a sister.” “I mean, probably not exactly like a sister,” Megan says. “But that does give me some comfort.” In front of me, Alec slows and pulls onto a wide concrete driveway. When he reaches the house, he opens the garage door and pulls his truck inside, leaving plenty of room for me. I park and turn off the car, then climb out, phone pressed to my ear. “It brings you comfort? Is the idea of me and Alec together that horrible for you?” It’s a stupid conversation. Megan knows better than anyone what I’ve been through in the past year. She’s the one who held my hand through th...

Alec appears beside me and holds his hand out for Juno’s carrier. “Can I take her inside?” “Yeah, thanks,” I say. “I’m just talking to Megan.” “Hi, Alec!” Megan yells through the phone. “Have I told you you’re the best brother ever?” Alec grins as his eyes drop to my phone. “Is there anything else I can carry?” I retrieve the portable crib from the trunk, then hand it over, along with the diaper bag and a second bag full of extra diapers and wipes. Both shoulders are laden with bags by the time he makes his way inside, the crib in one hand and Juno’s carrier in the other. I spend an extra long moment admiring the way his back and shoulders flex with the effort, then slam my trunk closed with a sigh. “I should get inside,” I say to Megan. “But trust me. You don’t have anything to worry about.” “Stop it,” Megan says. “Don’t make it sound like that. I’m not worried about you and Alec. I’m just worried about you, in general. Your scars are still fresh, Evie.” “It’s been almost a year,” I say. “Which, I’m not saying that because I want to date your brother. I’m just saying, maybe you don’t need to worry so much. I’m doing okay.” Megan’s quiet for a beat before she asks, “You really think so?” “I mean, my bank account balance is abysmal, I still can’t fit into my favorite jeans, and I’m hormonal enough to cry at every single dog rescue video that comes across my feed. But otherwise, yeah. I really think so.” I circle the car and open the back door to get my duffel bag. “In that ...

Alec meets me when I’m halfway up the sidewalk, lifting the bag from my shoulder and carrying it the rest of the way. I frown as I watch him walk. I could be wrong, but he looks like he’s favoring his right knee. I don’t remember noticing anything when we were unloading all my furniture which makes me suddenly worry he somehow injured himself. Especially after the way his teammates teased him. I’m deep in a narrative in which Alec’s hockey career is over and it’s all my fault and he’ll never forgive me much less speak to me again when I realize Alec has said something and is waiting for me to respond. I scour my brain for the words I know I heard but clearly didn’t process, but I come up empty. “Sorry, what was that?” I ask. “I spaced there for a second.” Alec lifts an eyebrow. “I just asked about your conversation with Megan.” “Oh! It was good. Great. She’s worried about her pharmacology exam.” It’s a true response, even if we only talked about pharmacology for the first two minutes, then spent the rest of our conversation talking about him. He nods knowingly. “Sounds about right. I don’t know why she worries so much. She always does great.” “That’s what I tell her!” I say, making a mental note to circle back to Alec’s leg. Even if it’s something minor, I’ll feel terrible if he hurt himself on my account. “Still, I’m glad you were around today because otherwise, Megan would have flown down here herself, and then I’d never hear the end of her stressing over the school she’...

I take a shower and put on a pair of leggings and my Cornell hoodie. Megan’s parents bought it for me at one of Alec’s college games, and it’s been one of my favorites ever since. I almost pick something else—I don’t want Alec to think I picked it because of him— but it really is the softest and the warmest, so I leave it and push my worries from my mind. For all I know, Alec has gone to bed and won’t even see my hoodie. I’m tempted to climb into bed and crash myself, but Ruth’s chicken pot pie is the only thing I’ve eaten today, and that was hours ago. I’ll head to the grocery store tomorrow, but for now, I hope Alec has a stocked pantry. I’m halfway down the back stairwell when my nose picks up the smell of something cooking, and my stomach lets out a low rumble. I find Alec in the kitchen in front of the stove, sliding a sandwich onto a plate. After everything he’s done for me already, it feels selfish to hope he’s making it for me, but my mouth is watering before I’ve even reached the counter. When Alec smiles and nudges the plate toward me, it’s all I can do not to whimper out loud. “I’m not much of a cook,” he says. “But I thought you might be hungry.” “Starving,” I say. “Whatever it is, it smells amazing.” “Fried egg, cheddar, and bacon,” he says. “Breakfast food is pretty much all that’s in my wheelhouse.” I pick up the sandwich and take an enormous bite, not even caring that Alec is watching me so intently. I close my eyes as a low groan sounds in the back of my t...

“Thanks for feeding me. And for everything today, really. Unloading the pod. Giving us a place to stay. All of it.” “It’s no problem,” he says in between bites. “I’ve got plenty of space.” “Yeah, why do you have all this space? This house is huge.” “It was more about the neighborhood and less about the house,” Alec says. “I like the security. And it’s quiet. Mostly families. My last place was in a busier part of town, people always coming and going, and my neighbor was always having crazy parties.” He pauses and offers me a sheepish grin. “I sound really old, don’t I?” “So old,” I repeat, but then I smile. “I get it, though.” I slide off the barstool and carry my plate to the sink. “So talk to me about your knee.” He frowns. “Why would I want to talk about my knee?” “Because I saw you limping when we came inside. Are you injured? Please tell me you didn’t hurt yourself today.” “I didn’t hurt it today,” he says, and I can tell he’s telling the truth. “So it’s a hockey injury?” He breathes out a sigh. “You’re asking a lot of questions.” “Oh come on.” I return to the stool beside him. “You said I was like a sister, so talk to me like one.” He lifts an eyebrow at this, but then he finally shifts on his stool and turns to fully face me. “It’s an old hockey injury,” he says. “Do you remember when I had surgery on my ACL during my senior year at Cornell?” “Oh, that’s right! You didn’t play in any games until after Christmas.” “Exactly. Then I blew it out again my first year with ...

I nudge his knee with mine. “Hey. You know you’re more than a hockey player, right?” He looks up sharply, like my words have surprised him. “You’re a brother, a son, a friend, a human. You’ll still be all those things when you stop playing hockey.”

“What do your teammates say?” I ask. He props his foot up on the bottom of my barstool, bringing his knee into direct contact with mine. I will myself not to move away even though the heat of him feels like a brand through the thin fabric of my leggings. “My teammates don’t say anything because they don’t know.” He rolls his shoulders, and I get the sense he’s admitting things, saying things out loud that he hasn’t said before. “I’ve played through the pain before, and I’ve had surgery before. I’ll have another one if I have to. It’s the job, right?” He’s making it sound so simple, like it’s no big deal. But what if it is a big deal? “Will you…would you ever stop? Decide it’s not worth it?” He hesitates. “I mean, at some point, I’ll have to. My trainers like to talk about future mobility. Making sure I can go on hikes or play outside with my kids—assuming I ever have kids—just do regular life stuff. But it’s hard to prioritize that if it means I have to stop playing now.” Beside me, the sound of Juno stirring comes through the baby monitor I brought downstairs with me, and I will her to settle back into sleep. A conversation like this feels like a lot for two people who only just reconnected, but it also feels incredibly easy. Like we could talk about anything and it wouldn’t give either of us pause. I have no idea why—why Alec decided I was the person he’d finally say all of this to, but I don’t want the conversation to end just because Juno wakes up. I hold my breath, bo...

I’m halfway across the living room when Alec stops me. “Hey, Evie?” I turn back to face him. It’s the first time he’s called me by name, and the sound sends a delicious shiver racing up my spine. “Yeah?” Alec pushes his hands into the pockets of his joggers. “Thanks for listening. You’re pretty easy to talk to.” I smile. “Anytime.” He runs a hand through his hair and takes a step toward me. “Listen. I have no idea if it’s even practical with Juno, but I’m happy to get you a ticket to Sunday’s game if you want to come. Or any game, really. It doesn’t have to be this one. I’m just saying generally. If you want to go to an Appies game. All you have to do is ask.” My heart squeezes at the kindness behind Alec’s words. I haven’t been to a hockey game in years. Not since high school. Once I started at Juilliard and met Devon, it wasn’t as easy to get away, even though Megan frequently traveled to see whatever games he played in the northeast. But Devon was a theater major, and he didn’t understand my love for hockey at all. I tried to explain it was simply a part of my childhood, but I might as well have been speaking a different language. So I let it go. Devon had that effect on people. He drew people into his orbit and kept them close, and we all stayed there because it felt like such a privilege to have been chosen by someone so talented, so magnetic. We liked what he liked, listened to what he listened to, ate whatever he was in the mood for. It was even easier for me becaus...

I don’t see much of Evie over the next few days. This early in the season, our practice schedule is still pretty intense, so I’m not home much, and it seems like she’s lying pretty low, which makes sense. She and Juno are both probably exhausted after all their traveling. But I still find myself looking for her car whenever I pull into the driveway or spending a little more time than usual in the common areas of the house. Not that I need to see her. I don’t. I have zero reason to keep track of where she is, and she has zero reason to give me a play-by-play of her plans. I texted her the code to the front door the first night she was here, and I added her to the security guard’s list so she’s free to come and go as she pleases. On Saturday morning, I spend an extra long time making breakfast, but she never comes downstairs. I must have missed her altogether because when I leave for practice a few minutes later, her car isn’t even in the driveway. Where could she be at nine-thirty on a Saturday? Better question. Why am I thinking about this so much? And why am I disappointed?

As I pull into the parking lot at the Summit, I try to muster up some enthusiasm for the day ahead. We aren’t actually practicing today, though I will be on the ice. Today is social media day, so the team will be filming videos and taking photos with Parker, the Appies’ social media manager. She always has a long list of stuff for us to do at the beginning of the season, and since our social media presence is such a huge part of the Appies’ success, we all know better than to protest. I usually don’t mind most of it. It’s part of the job. But I’m not much in the mood today. Partly because I’m still feeling off about all things Appies. Partly because I can’t stop thinking about Evie. When we were talking at the counter the other night, her knees tucked in between mine, she didn’t feel like a sister at all. I was much too aware of the warmth emanating from her skin and the freckles dotting the bridge of her nose. But she didn’t feel like a date either. There was no pressure, no expectations, which made it easy to be honest, to say things I haven’t said to anyone else. Maybe that’s why I can’t stop thinking about her. It was nice having someone to talk to who isn’t connected to my team.

“So here’s what’s going to happen,” she says. “It’s everyone else against the three of you. A dozen pucks on the ice, and your goal is to stop as many of them as you can. There’s been a lot of talk about this particular defensive pairing, so let’s show everyone you’re as good as they say you are.” Parker skates to the center of the rink where Eli, Logan, Camden, and the rest of the team are waiting. Three against twelve is hardly a fair matchup, but that’s the point with stuff like this. Parker knows what gets clicks, and usually, the stupider we look, the better. She skates back our way, pulling to a stop right in front of me. “Also, one more thing,” she says. “I just told the twins they can crash at your place for a little while. They’re young and homesick and they aren’t doing great living on their own and you have that big old house that’s basically empty, so it makes the most sense. Good? Great. I knew you’d agree.” She pats me on the shoulder, then spins on her skate and hurries away before I can protest. “Uh, what just happened?” I ask, looking over at Nathan. He shrugs. “I think you just got two new roommates?” I already have two new roommates, but I don’t have time to protest because Parker blows her whistle, and a wall of offense advances toward us at full speed. I grip my stick a little tighter, ignoring the tightness in my knee as I prepare for what’s coming. I’m not necessarily opposed to having the twins stay with me. It’s the way things generally operate wit...

I find Evie in the kitchen, her hair piled on top of her head and Juno strapped to her chest in some kind of colorful fabric sling looking thing. Music is playing from a portable speaker on the counter, and Evie is dancing around the kitchen. She spins one more time, her hands cupped around Juno’s feet, and finally sees me. She yelps and jumps back, her arms wrapping around the baby like I’m some kind of predator. I grimace. “Sorry,” I say over the music. She smiles and shakes her head as she retrieves her phone from the counter and turns off the music. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” “It’s fine. I was just…” She looks down at Juno who is awake and wide-eyed. “She likes the music. Plus, I get some exercise, so it’s a win-win.” She looks over at the stove. “Are you hungry? I cooked. And by cooked, I mean I warmed up a pizza and there’s some left over. But I did make these!” She pulls a kitchen towel off the top of a baking dish full of cinnamon rolls. “It’s actually your mom’s recipe,” she says. “She gave it to me as a baby gift when Juno was born.” Evie is buzzing with energy, her cheeks pink from exertion, her eyes bright. With Juno in her arms, she looks like life. Like happiness. I lift my eyebrows. “Mom guards that recipe with her life. She hasn’t even given it to me yet.” “It took years of wearing her down,” Evie says. “And maybe a tiny bit of guilt-tripping after the divorce? I’m still not sure I’ve perfected her process, but this is the best batch I’ve made so far.” S...

“Is there really pizza left over? I should probably have some real food before I eat an entire pan of cinnamon rolls.” “Yes!” She moves in beside me and opens the oven, pulling out a cookie sheet holding half a pizza. “It’s the good kind from Trader Joe’s and everything. Juno and I did a grocery run this morning.” “Yeah, you guys were up early,” I say. “I was surprised to see you already gone by the time I woke up.” “That’s Juno for you,” Evie says. “She never sleeps past seven. Plus, shopping early is easier since there aren’t any crowds, then I can get home in time to put her down for a morning nap.” Juno gurgles, blowing little tiny spit bubbles between her lips. “So basically you’re saying Juno is in charge,” I say in between bites of pizza. Evie laughs. “You have no idea.”

Evie stays on her feet the whole time we’re talking, swaying back and forth to keep Juno happy, and I lift myself onto the counter, sitting next to the leftover pizza, which I finish. There’s something very domestic about the whole situation. And not because Evie is in the kitchen and made food. It’s more that she’s just…here. That we’re talking about our days and she’s interested in how I am and what I have to say. There’s no pretense with Evie and realizing as much helps me identify what I don’t love about Riley. Riley always has an agenda. Something to prove. I realize Evie has reasons for being in Harvest Hollow that don’t have anything to do with me. But it’s still triggering a want I didn’t know I had. I’m so preoccupied with our conversation, so distracted by how much I like talking to Evie, that I completely forget to mention the twins coming over until the doorbell rings. Evie lifts her eyebrows. “Are you expecting someone?” I wince as I jump off the counter. “Yes, and I meant to explain before they showed up. You know the twins I mentioned earlier? They need a place to crash. They’re brand new to the team, and they’re having a hard time living on their own.” “The twins who lassoed you?” “Yes, but what made you think they lassoed me?” She grins. “Intuition? Or possibly the look on your face when you mentioned it. Should I be concerned? Will they try to lasso me too?” I breathe out a chuckle. They might try to lasso her once they see her like this, looking alive an...

When I open the front door, Theo and Carter barrel into the house, their shoulders laden with enormous matching duffel bags. “Dude, this house is insane,” Theo says as he looks around the entryway. He spins in place and his bag knocks into a lamp sitting on a hall table. I reach out and steady it before it crashes to the floor, and Carter meets my gaze over Theo’s shoulder, rolling his eyes. “Sorry,” Carter mutters. “He doesn’t get out much.” Theo’s hair is cut shorter than Carter’s, which makes it easy to tell them apart. But even if the hair didn’t give him away, Theo is much louder and rowdier than his more reserved brother. He’d only have to open his mouth for me to immediately know which twin he is. “Come on,” I say, leading them into the house. “I’ll show you where you’re staying.” Evie appears in the doorway of the kitchen as we approach, still wearing Juno, hands setting loosely on her daughter’s back. The baby turns her head, eyes wide as she looks at the new arrivals. She bounces a little, almost like she’s excited, her little hands flailing up and down. “Are you saying hi?” Evie says, looking down at her daughter, smiling like she thinks Juno’s reaction to the twins is just as entertaining as I do. “Whoa, you’re married?” Carter asks. “With a kid? How did we not know that?” “This is Evie and her daughter, Juno,” I say, shooting Evie an apologetic look. “She’s a friend. She just moved to Harvest Hollow, and she and her daughter are staying here for a few weeks un...