Page 34 of A Major Puck Up

Or would she text that she was miserable? Would she admit to missing me as much as I missed her?

Peaches: I am. This was a good decision for me. I know I was a mess when we met, and I just wanted to let you know I’m doing better now. Not that you probably care, but I wanted you to know that.

I shake my head as I reread that message. The fact that she thought I didn’t care was insane. I’d been thinking about her nonstop, and she was off living her life in Paris. Happy. She probably is again. She’s definitely not sitting on a park bench with a stranger, trying to work out the last two years of her life.

Me: I care. And I’m glad you’re happy.

Peaches: Thanks. I hope you’re doing well.

Henry nods, letting me know he’s finished reading. “Sounds like Paris was a good idea for her. She seemed to grow up a bit.”

He’s not wrong. Millie needed Paris. Maybe she still does.

“When was this again?” he asks.

“Almost two years ago.”

His white brows knit together. “And you’re still talking about her?”

I look over at the jungle gym where Finn is playing with a few other kids. It’s getting close to dinnertime. I should probably get him home soon. “It didn’t end there,” I say, giving Henry my full attention. I’ve had his for the last half hour.

“Okay, then what happened?”

I smile because this is a good memory. A great one actually. “We won the Stanley Cup.”

Henry’s face lights up. He’s clearly a fan. “Ah, so this was just this past June?”

“Yup. Nine months ago.”

ELEVEN

GAVIN

June

Peaches: Congrats on the win! Stanley Cup champs! It’s incredible. I’m sorry I missed you after the game.

Me: Thanks! Yeah, it got a little crazy around here. Are you still in Boston?

Peaches: No. Took the red-eye. I have to help Sienna prepare for her show in London.

Me: Sorry I missed you. Sienna has had nothing but good things to say about you.

Peaches: She’s great.

Peaches: I should be over you by now, right?

Fuck. I dig the heels of my hands into my eyes and groan. What the hell am I supposed to say to this girl? It’s been over a year since I last saw her. And still, she haunts my thoughts day in and day out. My team just won the Stanley Cup. I should be on cloud nine. My brothers’ first championship, the team’s first ever cup, should be the only thing taking up space in my mind. But a simple text from Millie, and she’s all I can think about.

I shouldn’t want her. Definitely shouldn’t still be thinking about her.

Every reason I have for staying away for the past year flits through my mind, one after another, on repeat, even as I grab my duffel bag and shove clothes and toiletries into it.

There are a million reasons to stay away.

A million reasons why we won’t work.

I open the safe and snag my passport.

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