Page 89 of XOXO, Summer
Breathing through the insult of that cocky jerk’s smirk, I try not to stoop to his level. And fail. “You listen to me, Daniel Stanley Sutton.” I rush forward, pointer finger leading the charge. “I didn’t have to let you into my life. I was doing just fine without you bringing this weird hierarchy of women in this sports league to my front door.”
Not fazed, the wall of his torso is staying put even when I poke him.Hard.
“You’re right. You didn’t have to let me into your life. You lost me on the women chart, but I don’t regret staying with you when the bathroom broke or showing you off at that party we went to. I love the time we’ve spent under the stars and listening to the birds sing at sunrise. I don’t want that to end. I don’t want us to end. You misheard what I said.” He grumbles, “Shit.You didn’t mishear. You misunderstood. I have to give up summer, not you, Summer.”
“Wait . . .” My mind spins through the conversation I heard, my chest deflating when I realize he could have meantsomething else. It’s in the realm of possibilities, yet I jumped to conclusions without giving him a chance. Without communicating . . . I like Lindy. I could see us being friends.
He says, “The summer months, the rest of July and the week I had booked in August. They want me to get back to skating and bond with the new guys. They want me to run a mentoring program. Sort like an easy out for them to find talent by making me scout them out.”
That he was still trying to honor the rental schedule, as if he were still staying at the cottage, was sweet. My chest inflates like a balloon full of hope for our future together, knowing he would be with me if he could. “A mentoring program?” My heart flutters to life again. “I actually love that for you.”
Taking one tentative step and then another, he takes hold of my upper arms. “I kind of do, too. I think it will be a good way for me to do something outside of playing.”
“You bring so much to the game, your experience. Your drive. Your three times votedPeople’s“Sexiest Man Alive.” I crack a smile, breathing so much easier now.
“I’m sure that will go over real well with the new guys.” He chuckles. “But Summer, I need you to know that I wouldn’t have given you up. Not even for hockey. July and August . . .” He shrugs. “Okay. I don’t love giving up those months I’d get to spend with you, or with Roman this summer at the Cove, but I think it’s best if I do this training program.”
Relief washes through me, wondering if I’ve just been waiting for a shoe to drop, and when it did, I fell with it the first chance I got. If this is the worst of it, we can overcome it. I need to trust him, and myself, but more so, I need to hold onto the trust we’ve built together. I push into his arms,embracing this man with my whole heart. “You’re leaving Mountain Laurel Cove.”
“Yes. But I’m not leaving you.”
I look up. “Technically, you are.” Smirking, I can’t contain it. “Sooner than I hoped. But this is life, and we’ll face it together.”
“We’re a few hours apart. I’ll do everything I can to make this work. Do you want that, too?”
I know the answer, feeling it in my soul. “I do.”
CHAPTER 28
DANIEL
THREE WEEKS LATER . . .
“What the fuck are you doing out there?” I punch the air, imagining it’s his face. Cupping my hand to the side of my mouth, I shout, “What the fuck kind of play was that, Landers?”
Shredding ice, he skids to a stop in front of me. “It’s called hockey, old man.” He pounds his fist twice on top of the wall, tempting me to jump over that wall and show him how the pros play. “Guess that’s why you’re on the bench, and I’m out here.”
“Listen up, fucker. Hockey requires you actually make contact with the puck, not skate by it like you’re still in PeeWee league.”
“It’s not 1985, Maverick. You need to get yourself some glasses.”
I’m yanked backward before I lunge over that small wall he thinks is protecting him. Two players pull me back as I shout, “Say that to my fucking face.”
“I just did.” He laughs, skating off.
A slow clapechoing from the tunnel has me looking over to see what shit is about to be thrown my way. I pull my arms free and sit on the goalie’s seat because I’m sure as shit not going to greet whoever it is after that entrance. “Old man? Ha! Good one.” Coach rounds the corner into our bench. “It’s rough out there, Sutton.”
He’s not wrong. This next generation of players is something else, the little fuckers. If I’d had the talent of some of these guys, my early years would have gone a lot smoother. “Coming to check on us, Coach?”
“Nope. But looks like I should have before now.” He cuts down the back of the bench to stand next to me. Arms crossed, looking all business, he keeps his indifference on his face as he watches the players on the ice. He’s always been hard to read unless you anger him. “Any talent?”
“As much as it hurts my hockey soul to say this . . .” I shake my head, but I won’t keep real talent down. “Landers is a good fucking player. He’s also a shit human.”
He chuckles. “Takes one to know one, huh?”
“Funny.” I chuckle. He’s not entirely wrong, though. I was a bastard before I met Summer, and with our schedules keeping us busy and apart, the role fits like a glove again.
Coach has never been much of a conversationalist unless he’s drinking, and then you can’t get him to shut up. His gaze is too distant, his mind not on the players on the ice or the bench. So I take a guess, “What did you really come down here to talk about?”
