Page 21 of Defend Her Heart

His eyes search mine as he waits for me to respond. Things between us might be complicated. More than complicated. I’m not sure if there’s a word out there to describe all we’ve gone through and the position we find ourselves in now. But he’s extending an olive branch by letting me in. And if I’m going to make things work here in Green Bay, I need to let go of the past and find a way forward. Which means I need to find a way to move on with Connor in my life.

“I’m sorry things were so difficult for you and I appreciate you being honest with me right now. I know things with us have been strained since high school.”

“Avery—” Connor attempts to cut me off, but I put my hand up.

“Let me finish.” He nods, so I continue. “It’s different having to be around your high school sweetheart, especially after you completely vanished.”

Connor casts his eyes downward, a look of remorse flashing across his face. I reach out and place my hand on his arm. “But that was a long time ago. I’m here now. Hopefully for a long time, if things with the Bobcats work out. We’re going to be around each other a lot more than just yearly reunions. I’m ready to let the past be the past if you are.”

His eyes land on my hand, which for some reason is still resting on his forearm. I yank it away as fast as I can, like I’ve just touched the hot burner of a stove. I watch as his eyes move back up to my face.

“I’d like to find a way to move forward so it’s not as awkward as the barbecue. The guys on the team still ask me why I looked like I saw a ghost that day. But there’s some things we should talk about, Avery. Where’s Br?—”

Thankfully, his question is cut off by the bartender placing Connor’s pizza down in front of him. I know he was about to ask what happened with me and Bryan. And I’m just notready to tell him. I’m not ready to tell anyone outside of my therapist’s office.

“A large deep dish with chicken, bacon, and pineapple.”

I suck in a breath. Connor must notice because he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he keeps his eyes on me as mine bounce between his food and his face.

The bartender, totally oblivious as to what is transpiring here, keeps talking.

“In all my years, I’ve never had two complete strangers order the exact same pizza with that god awful topping on it.”

I’m still at a loss for words, which is ridiculous. It’s just pizza. But Connor never let me live it down. Not after that first day at Lombardi’s, or any time after that we’d order pizza. He always claimed pineapple still didn’t belong on pizza.

“Don’t knock it till you try it, Johnny.” Connor’s eyes never leave mine, even as he speaks to the bartender he’s apparently on a first name basis with.

The two of us are locked in a stare off and I see Johnny make his leave out of the corner of my eye.

“I thought you said pineapple should stay in fruit salads or on upside-down cakes. You never tried it again after…”

I don’t finish my thought. By the drop in his expression, I know he knows exactly what I’m thinking. Finally, he looks away. He grabs a slice of pizza but before he brings it to his mouth he turns to look at me again.

“It’s not horrible.”

And then he winks at me before taking his first bite.

“Are you the real Connor Smith? Like the one who plays for the Bobcats?” The little boy sits up straight in his bed as the nurse takes a step back, giving me the room to approach his bedside.

I’ve been visiting the children’s wing of the hospital since my first season with the Bobcats. Although I’ve never experienced any health issues like these kids, I do know what it feels like to feel scared and alone thanks to my parents abandoning me and my sister. Meeting these kids and bringing them joy, which is something I didn’t feel much of when I was younger, gives me purpose outside the rink. It’s never been about PR for me, and I specifically asked for my visits not to be publicized or used for the media. These kids have been through so much; they don’t need to be made into a spectacle. I genuinely enjoy meeting these kiddos, and I swear they teach me more about resilience and strength every time I visit.

“I really am. What’s your name, buddy?”

I already know his name. I spend a few minutes with the nurses before meeting with each child when I’m doing my visits at the hospital. They can’t give me too many details onwhy they’re here, but they do give me a few ideas of what the kids like so I know what type of questions to ask.

Lucky for me, Scotty here loves hockey.

“I’m Scotty! I watch all your games. Well, at least the first period. Because a lot of times they’re on way past my bedtime. Do you think you could do something about that? Maybe start them at dinnertime so I can watch the whole thing?”

A laugh bubbles out of me as I slide a stool next to him so I can sit eye level with him.

“Well, Scotty, I don’t know if they’ll listen to me but I can definitely try my best.”

He nods his head a few times. “Cool.”

We spend the next fifteen minutes chatting about hockey. Once we’re done talking about the guys on the team and how funny he thinks Mack is for playing pranks on people all the time, he tells me what brought him to the hospital.

“I’m supposed to be getting a new liver tomorrow morning. But they said that last time and then I never got it.” Scotty moves his attention to his lap, and I see he’s fidgeting with his fingers.