Page 6 of Taylor

She pulled on a shirt and some sleep shorts and made her way out of the tiny bathroom and to the kitchen. After heating up more noodles, she would sit in front of the TV and watch Christmas movies. Maybe lying to her family wasn’t a great way to end the year, but next year would be her year... she hoped.

She put her noodles in the microwave and turned on all the colorful Christmas lights, leaving the place awash in the warm glow. It made her happy, and that was what she needed. As much as things sucked, she could still find the joy in a string of colorful Christmas ambience. She pulled upWhite Christmasand went to get her food from the kitchen.

She came in with a bowl full of warm noodles, ready to curl up on the couch with Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney and forget the world while the snow fell outside.

A large man stomped his boots off by the door. A man who was not supposed to be here... in her family’s cabin... miles away from anyone.

She screamed as she dropped her bowl of noodles, hot water searing her leg.

The strange man turned in shock of his own... Only this wasn’t a strange man... This was one of her dad’s hockey players, one she hadn’t stopped thinking about since their dance at the gala.

“I’m sorry. I must be in the wrong place. I’m so sorry,” he stammered out in confusion and panic. He pulled out his phone, checking the address as he picked up his bag to leave.

“No . . . I think you’re in the right place . . .”

It looked like her quiet week away from civilization just got a little more civilized.

“Taylor? Why are you here?”

He finally recognized her.

“Alice...” he said, and she could see the light go on in his brain when he figured it out. “You’re Coach’s daughter.” He shook his head, clearly feeling silly.

“Yeah, what are you doing here?”

“I’m so sorry. My flight got canceled and then there was a mix up, and I ran into Coach at the airport, and he told me I could stay at his cabin. I don’t think he knew you were staying here.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of dodging my family this year.”

“Right. Well, I’ll get out of your hair,” he said, putting his coat back on.

She looked out the window. The car he had just gotten out of already had a dusting of snow on it. It was starting to come down, and it was almost ten.

“We have plenty of space. Why don’t you just stay the night? We can work it out in the morning. There is no point being out in this mess if you don’t have to.”

“Are you sure? I hate to intrude.”

“No, I’m just going to get this cleaned up, and it’ll be fine.”

“Let me help. It’s my fault you spilled your dinner,” he said, kneeling beside her to scoop the noodles into the bowl.

“Thank you. I’m going to go get some paper towels.”

She went to the kitchen and put her hands on the counter. Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a deep breath. This was not what she planned, not the alone time away from everyone she needed.

With one more deep breath, she reminded herself it was just for one night. Another deep breath. And it was Taylor. If it had to be any of her dad’s players, Taylor was a best-case scenario. He wasn’t as cocky as Sven or a playboy like Cash or perfect like Conner. He was Taylor.

She could still remember the way she felt when they had danced at the gala. Something about him always made her calm, an unfamiliar feeling.

She had thought about that moment at the gala more than she cared to think about. She definitely had a crush on him. But it didn’t matter because a professional hockey player would never date her, especially one on her dad’s team, but he seemed like a good guy.

She grabbed the roll of paper towels and headed out to clean up the spilled noodles. When she rounded the corner, Taylor was standing straight, the bowl in one hand, the other held like it was covered in toxic waste as opposed to broth. After taking the bowl from him, she bent down to clean up the soup.

After wiping it up, she went to the kitchen where Taylor was washing his hands. She tried her best to step around him in thetiny kitchen to throw away the dripping paper towels and dump the noodles in the trash.

Taylor turned to dry his hands, and they bumped right into each other with a smalloof. The familiar zip of electricity shot through her again.

“Sorry,” she said reflexively and stepped back, looking at her feet.

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