Page 3 of Boarded Hearts

I need a release from the pent-up adrenaline, following the game and the frustration from tonight.

Stepping out of the booth, I inject a well-refined amount of swagger into my stride as I make my way to the bar before setting my almost-empty glass down and leaning over on my forearms.

“After another, sweetheart?” the blonde who’s been eye-fucking me for the last hour asks in a faux sweet tone.

Standing up straight, I fix her eyes with mine. “A drink isn't really what I'm after.”

“Oh, no?” she replies in a coy voice, and it's clear this is a well-practiced routine.

But I'm not after a drawn-out, soul-searching night, so I decide to cut to the chase; we're both only interested in one thing after all.“What time do you finish?”

A smile slowly pulls at her full lips. “Half hour.”

Soon. Good. “How about finishing your evening with me?"

Her smile grows as she quickly scribbles on her order pad before handing me her number.

“I don't do numbers sweetheart, but I could probably make my next beer last thirty minutes.”

She smiles and gets back to re-filling my glass, serving other customers and occasionally I throw her the odd wink.

But despite my physical attraction to this girl, the thought of heading back to her place to fuck has lost its appeal. I want something more from my life besides big moments on the ice. I want someone to share my life with. That feeling has been growing within me for a long time, leaving internal chaos and at times resentment of hockey and my lifestyle in its wake.

My head screams at me to get up and walk out of this bar, not looking back, but habit keeps my feet firmly planted where they are, unable and unsure of how I’ll break the cycle of meaningless hookups.

CHAPTER TWO

FELICITY

These past two years have both flown by and dragged.

In many ways, Seattle has started to feel like home. A feeling of comfort has crept into my everyday life despite the initial upheaval.

Things started to turn a corner for me around six months ago when I finally bit the bullet and left Elliott. I moved out of our temporary rental paid for by his firm and got myself a one-bedroom apartment downtown. Finally, I have some freedom and autonomy over my life. I can go out and make friends and just be myself. I was with Elliott since my early twenties. We met at university; he was studying economics, and I was reading law. Elliott was my first and only, having been wrapped in cotton wool my whole life by my parents. I had next to no experience in the guy department back then. Hell, I still don't today. Elliott, on the other hand, had more than enough experience to go around, but that still didn't stop us from falling pregnant at university.

My twenties came and went in a whirlwind of marriage and babies, and while I never wished for anything other than Jack and Darcy, I would wish for a different start to my adulthood. At thirty-nine, I feel like I’m re-starting my life and I finally have a chance to work out who I am, alone and free of a man’s influence.

The rain beats against the twelfth-floor window of my office, and I'm broken out of my trance by the bloody awful ringtone Darcy set last week on my phone.

“Mum, I'm downstairs in the lobby waiting, can we get going?”

“I’ll be right down; shall we grab a coffee too?”I look at the stack of files on my desk; lord only knows I need caffeine today.

“Yeah sure, just bring your umbrella. It's absolutely chucking it down out here and I've just done my hair. Damn, this city!” Darcy lets out a frustrated groan.

“On my way, sweetheart,” I reply and end the call.

Darcy has never taken to Seattle; from the outset, she was determined to hate it. For the past two years since Elliott broke the news, she's been clock-watching, waiting to get back to Liam and her friends in Oxford. In contrast, Jack has thrived, making more friends than I've achieved in my thirty-nine years on this earth, and at nearly eighteen, he has a steadfast plan—go to college, study sports, and make it in the big leagues.

The Grind café has become my and Darcy’s regular meet-up spot, and we tend to catch up a couple of times a week at least. But today, she seems preoccupied. We grab our chai lattes, something I've become totally obsessed with since moving out here, and take a seat side by side on our favorite plush pink sofa.

One scolding sip later, Darcy’s frown still hasn’t lifted. “So, Jack dropped the bomb last night. He's not coming home; he's chosen to take an offer from the University of Seattle and study Kinesiology.”

You know that expectant look someone gives you as if they've rehearsed this conversation over again in their minds and fully anticipate a certain response? Well, that's thelookI'm getting right now. On this occasion though, I can't pacify Darcy because I'm not heading back either. There's nothing there for me. The friends I made back in the UK were all affiliated with Elliott in some way, and those who weren't haven't kept in touch. My boss seems to value me more than my ex-husband ever did, securing me an employer-sponsored green card, allowing me to stay and work in Seattle.

In three weeks, Darcy and Elliott will board a plane back to Heathrow, and right now, she thinks I have a ticket. It's getting to crunch time, and Ineedto tell her.

I take a bite of my salad, wishing I ordered a panini instead because this rabbit food really isn’t cutting it. “Yeah, we need to talk about that.”

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