Page 77 of Lace 'em Up

My favorite wine from my place of employment.

And then there was the gift certificate to a local spa pinned beneath it.

And the apology note was signed by Zeus—or with his paw print, anyway.

So…I didn’t leave.

I couldn’t.

For better or worse, I gave into what I wanted, stopped thinking, and just…

Stayed.

But I know that it’s going to come back to bite me.

Twenty-Three

King

My body feels like I got run over by a train.

And hell, maybe it had.

It’s always like that when we play the Sierra.

A tough, brutal battle.

The only benefit is that the flight is all of an hour and we don’t get home horribly late.

The bad news?

Some idiot decided that we should have a home and home matchup—meaning that we played in the Sierra’s arena last night, and now they’re coming to play in our arena tomorrow.

Flight. Morning skate. Game. Flight. Light practice. Morning skate. Game.

That’s a lot of hockey over three days.

But that’s the life of a professional athlete—living and breathing the sport so that it takes over my life, determines when I eat and what I eat and when I sleep and what I do with my free time.

Who I date—or don’t.

Who I enter into a fake relationship with—no matter how dumb.

I should just let Rory off the hook. She set my mom at ease, got her flying home and leaving me to my peace (and limiting her attempts at matchmaking).

I should let her go.

But when I walk through the door into the house and find her sleeping on the couch, Zeus at her side, sprawled out on his back, tiny legs flapping in the air, snoring like he swallowed a chainsaw, something tightens in my chest.

Just a little bit longer.

Then I’ll turn her loose.

Plus, even though Phillip was arrested, he’s out on bail and currently licking his wounds (according to Jean-Michel’s security team). So, she might not be safe yet.

Which is the truth.

But also a convenient excuse that I cling to as I scoop up Zeus, taking him out for a quick potty break before tucking him into his crate in the bedroom.

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