Page 29 of Hooking Up with the Hockey Player

Anna’s not nearly as skittish as Mitzy, but she has that same kind of energy. She’s curious and wants to be here, but one wrong move, and she’ll dart back into hiding.

I don’t want her to dart into hiding again. I want her to feel comfortable with me, but I’m acutely aware of the fact that I only have about ten days left here in Arcadian Falls. Will that be enough time for us to get past her natural skittishness? Does it really matter either way? Is there a point in even trying if I’m just leaving anyway?

My stomach clenches at the thought of letting this—her—go. Giving up and not even trying anymore isn’t in my DNA. My whole life has been about working and striving and conquering.

Except it’s not now. Not anymore.

I’m not a hockey player anymore. I’m just … a guy. Directionless and adrift.

God, that’s not dramatic or anything. Jesus. I need to get a handle on myself.

So what if I haven’t figured out what to do next? It’s only been a few weeks. Hell, even deciding to retire wasn’t all that long ago, and then I was still working on finishing out the season as strong as possible, rehabbing my knee until it only twinges a little when I’m running up and down the stairs here or horsing around with Nick and Tina’s kids.

And just because I’m scheduled to leave with everyone in a week doesn’t mean I have anywhere to be …

Besides, Anna’s not taking nearly as long to get comfortable as Mitzy did. Anna’s holding my hand, her shoulder bumping against my bicep as we stroll down the path to the dock, past the canoes and kayaks that came with the rental. “We could go out in a canoe if you want,” I suggest, breaking our comfortable silence.

She stops, looks at the silver canoe, the water, and then at me, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she considers. “Is that something you’d want to do?”

I shrug, taking in the way the setting sun seems to paint her skin a rose gold. She raises one hand to shield her eyes against the glare of the evening sun, and I shift to the side so my shadow falls across her face. She smiles up at me in gratitude.

With her face tipped up, her plump lips look so inviting. I could kiss her right now. It would be so easy. We’re standing close enough. All I’d need to do is bend my head and bring my lips to hers …

Instead, I clear my throat, glancing out at the water, then back over my shoulder toward the fire pit. I can’t hear anyone, so I’m assuming Nick’s attending the fire but the kids are still inside with Tina. This is as much privacy as we’re likely to get right now, and it’s possible this is all the alone time we’ll get tonight. Why did I think inviting her over to hang with Nick and his family was a good idea?

Ugh.

“I enjoy the canoe,” I murmur. “It’s calming being out on the water. We don’t have to go far.”

She looks at the canoe again. “I haven’t been in a canoe since I went to summer camp in middle school. A couple of my cabin mates and I decided to take one out during free time one afternoon, and two boys from the eighth-grade boys’ cabin followed us and tipped us over.”

My eyebrows jump up at that story. “Seriously?”

Facing me, she grins. “Yup. They were terrible. We were stuck in the middle of the water, and every time we tried to get back in the canoe, it’d turn over again. They just sat there laughing. Eventually, the lifeguard on duty heard us screaming and saw all the splashing and sent some counselors out to help us out.”

“What happened to the boys?”

She smirks. “They got sent home. It was a last straw kind of situation.” She shrugs. “I don’t know what happened to them after that. I never saw them again.”

I hold my hand over my heart. “I promise you won’t fall out of this canoe. If any pipsqueak eighth graders try to tip us over, I’ll fend them off with an oar.”

Laughing, she nods and points at me. “I’ll hold you to that.”

I hold up three fingers in the Boy Scout salute. “Scout’s honor.”

Still laughing, she squints at me. “Were you even a Boy Scout?”

Grinning, I shake my head, leading her to the canoe. “Nope. No time. Hockey always took precedence. A guy I grew up with made it to Eagle Scout, though. What about you? Were you a Girl Scout?”

She shakes her head. “Nah. It didn’t interest me. I do like their cookies, though.”

“Who doesn’t?” Releasing her hand, I guide the canoe along the dock, crouching low to hold it close to the edge. “Alright, you climb in first, and then I’ll get in.”

Nodding, her brow furrowed in concentration, she gingerly climbs into the canoe, steadying herself with a hand on the dock. She chooses the more forward seat, her fingers gripping the cleat on the dock. “Okay. I’m in. Your turn.”

She lets out a little squeak that makes me smile when the canoe bobs under my weight, but the two of us together keep it steady until I’m in and seated.

“You gonna help me row?” I ask, picking up an oar.

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