Page 10 of Mr. Broody

“Not much to say. I still play hockey, and I have a six-year-old son, Bodhi. They’re my life now.”

Her smile twists into a frown, but she recovers fast, sipping her drink and setting it down.

“Tell me about the places you’ve been,” I say, my selfishness clawing to keep her here as long as I can.

She abides by my request, though she seems a little reluctant, and tells me about some of her travels and all she’s seen and done since we last spoke. Though she quickly turns the conversation around to ask me about my time in the league.

Conor slips by our table with refills now and then, never stopping to introduce himself.

As the room empties, I start to think about where we might go from here. I really want to see her again. Hell, I want to take her upstairs and really reconnect, preferably with her legs around my waist or my neck, but we’re far from that happening. Shit, we may never be there again.

Cool your jets, man. It’s been a few hours after a long drought.

“I should go,” she says eventually, sliding down from her chair.

“Can I have your number?” What I’m really asking is, can I use the number that’s been stored in my phone for decades. Is that still your number?

“You have it, Henry.”

And I’ve been an idiot for not using it for three long years, only allowing my thumb to hover over that green circle on my phone screen while I second-guess myself.

“Can I use it?”

Her shoulders drop, and she meets my gaze. “You can.”

Fuck. Finally. Something stitches back together in my chest.

I have no idea what my plans are for when I use it, but for some reason, tonight feels a little like fate.

“But Henry… after Christmas, I’m leaving again.”

There goes that magic I felt, blowing away in the wind. There’s no way I’ll stop her from leaving. I’d never keep her from what ultimately makes her happy, but now that she’s in front of me, I can’t let this be the only time I see her in the next couple of months.

“Okay,” I say, and she remains quiet. “I’ll walk you out.”

I follow her out the door. None of my teammates who are still here say anything to either of us. I don’t spot Aubrie as we make our way through the bar. I’ll have to send the chipmunks a text to make sure they’re doing what I asked.

Jade requests herself an Uber, and we stand close in the cool autumn air until the car arrives. I open the back passenger door for her, and she slides in.

“It was good seeing you,” she says, staring up at me from the seat.

“Thanks for a great night.”

Shut the door, you idiot. But I can’t.

“Good night.” She gives me a smile that appears half sad, half hopeful.

“Let’s go. It’s Saturday night,” the Uber driver barks.

“Welcome home, Jade.”

I slowly shut the door and step back from the curb. The sedan pulls away and is soon swallowed up by the other vehicles.

It takes every ounce of my willpower not to chase it down the block, but I remind myself that our time was a long time ago. There is no future for us. Not the kind I really want anyway.

Five

Jade

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