Page 40 of Best Things in Life

“What’s done is done, Cookie. Hockey is gone.” The pain shoots through the back of my shoulders and through my chest as if someone shot me through with an arrow. I wince, but I don’t buckle. “There are worse things. Like not having you.” I squeeze her to my side and we continue walking.

“We’ll see,’ she says and I’m not sure what she’s talking about, but I’m too emotionally drained to ask, to do anything except soak in her presence, her strength, to lean on her as we go back to BMOC House, to my room.

I collapse on my bed and she closes the door and sits on the edge of the bed next to me. I caress her thigh and stare at her beautiful face, letting nothing else come into my mind.

“You know this isn’t the end of hockey, right?” I shake my head.

* * *

Sarina

“You know I’ll never let you go again,” he says.

“I never went anywhere,” I say. “I’ll never let you go again.” He laughs and I lean in to kiss him. “There’s no way I’m letting you give up hockey.”

“You have no choice.” He squeezes my thigh.

“Yes I do.” He moves his hand higher and cups me, rubbing his thumb in the exact right spot. “I own you,” I say the words on a shudder of need.

“You do,” he says. “And I own you. Everything. Your body, your heart and your fucking beautiful soul.” My heart wobbles around at his words. I never thought there was anything better than what we had three years ago, but I was wrong. Because I can already feel how much stronger what we have now is, how much more mature and multi-dimensional we are now and how that multiplies what we have together. And I vow to do something to get him back on the team, somehow.

“We were such foolish kids to think we had it all then,” I admit out loud.

“I know exactly what you mean, Cookie,” he says and my heart explodes into a million stars of bliss to hear him tell me we’re thinking the same thoughts. A laugh bubbles up as if I’m the kind of girl—no woman—who giggles. Then I snort and he laughs too.

“You know how much I love you, Sarina?”

“Tell me.”

“More than fucking hockey.” I laugh and I want to cry too, but there’s no way to top this as one of the moments that make up the best things in life.

Epilogue

NATE

Six Months Later

Hockey wasn’t gone.

Coach called me after seeing my resignation letter and we had it out.

Sarina called Bigs and they had it out. She apologized for being a head case and not realizing she was still in love with me and he, being the good guy he is, couldn’t hold it against her. Relationships come and go, right?

Except not this one, not the one between me and Sarina.

End result was a truce between me and Bigs strong enough, with Whiskey’s help and the help of all the guys, who played Switzerland better than the Swiss not taking sides, to get the team through the season and to the second round of playoffs. Enough to keep the scouts interested and for me to get drafted.

Against all odds, and in spite of a self-destructive streak that could light up the night—and regularly does—named Sarina, I made it to the NHL

* * *

We’re in Pittsburgh where Whiskey and Dooley drove a U-Haul truck filled with all our shit to help us move into a condo. Whiskey sits in Sarina’s fluffy chair in our new living room while the rest of us sit on boxes.

Dooley tells us that Summer finally ended up with Bigs after they dances around their attraction for a while because Summer isn’t one to accept leftovers and refused to be with Bigs until she was certain he was ready and over Sarina.

“I’m glad for Bigs,” Sarina says. “It would be so nice to be friends with him again.”

“Again?” I say.