I’ll text her, and she’ll answer back, but she hasn’t been going out of her way to initiate a conversation or see me like she did before. I can’t say it doesn’t hurt. I miss her. Every moment I’m away from her, I feel myself sinking back into the shell of a man I was before. I feel terrible about how Christmas night ended. I left her confused and embarrassed. The mixed signals coming from me haven’t been fair. Of course, I wanted to finish what we started. I always want to kiss her, to hold her, to makeher mine. My head and heart battle with each other constantly. If I had it to do all over again . . . I would finish what we started. I would take her to my bedroom, lay her down, and show her pleasure like she’s never experienced. But right now, I just want us to go back to how things were before I messed everything up.

It’s the night before our away game. We arrived in Chicago earlier this afternoon. I overheard Aspen talking with Hannah and River on the plane about checking out a little tavern tonight. The guys and I had talked about going there too, but not wanting to encroach on girls’ night, I had elected to stay out of the bitter winter air and relax; maybe see if the guys wanted to hit up the hotel bar instead. As soon as I set my bag down in my room, Carter called to tell me he and Aiden were planning to go to The Red Door Tavern tonight. It didn’t take much persuasion to drag me out of my room once I found out the boys were going. Carter has been chasing after River for months. Leave it to my best friend to crash girls’ night.

My buddies and I dash into the tavern, a hole-in-the-wall bar about thirty minutes outside of Chicago. We breathe into our hands, bouncing on the balls of our feet, trying to warm up.I can deal with cold weather, but the January air in the dead of winter in the Windy City is like a knife cutting into the bone. I take my coat off and stomp my snowy boots on the black rug just inside the massive red tavern doors.

Off-key singing rings through the bar, causing me to cringe. It must be open mic night because the guy on stage is singing a terrible rendition of Toby Keith’s “I Love This Bar.” I turn around and pretend I’m walking out when Carter's big ass hand grabs the collar of my shirt and drags me back.

“Oh, no can do, cowboy; you’re staying here.” He chuckles, and a laugh spills out of me.

The guy finishes his song—thank God. We round the slender pillars, made from tree trunks, and head to the bar onthe right. I rest my forearms and clasp my hands together on top of the epoxy river bar. My eyes cast a glance around the tavern, noticing the cool design and chill vibe. I don’t drink the night before games, so when the bartender greets me, I order a water. Trevor, Carter, and Aiden each order a draft beer. I crane my head looking for the girls, but I can’t see them in the crowd.

The bartender places our drinks in front of us. Just as I place a tip in the tip jar, piano notes pour through the speaker. The sexiest voice I’ve ever heard hits my ears, causingthe hairs on my arms to stand on end and goosebumps to cover my entire body. My head whips around to the stage behind me so fast, I think I give myself whiplash. Aspen’s fingers dance across the keys of a baby grand piano. Her upper body leans towards the microphone as she sings.

Her melodic voice is smooth—hypnotizing—and projects so much emotion. I listen to the lyrics of the song. It’s as if it were written specifically for us. Memories of the past few months flash through my mind like a film on a movie reel. I become intoxicated and dizzy. Electricity courses through my entire body. I can't contain my smile. She looks over the crowd to the bar; her eyes collide with mine. Though her breath hitches in surprise, she doesn’t miss a note, and she doesn’t look away.

“What the fuck?” Aiden says with his eyes wide open. “Holy shit!”

“Hot, can sing, and she runs a multi-billion-dollar NHL team? The woman is the whole trifecta.” Carter beams next to me. “If you don’t go after her, mind if I do?”He pokes.

“Yes, I fucking mind.”

A laugh bursts from him. He takes a pull from his beer. “I’m just messin’. My future wife is right over there.” He points his beer toward River, who is standing next to Hannah at a round high-top table, listening intently to Aspen sing.

He pats my back as he leaves to talk to her.

“Good luck,” I yell over my shoulder as I push my way through the throng of people and sidle up next to the stage.

The last note rings through the speaker, and she looks over the crowd as they stand, clapping in ovation. Her southern drawl comes out when she speaks, “Thanks, y’all! I’ll be here all night.”

I race up the stairs, and within seconds, I’m standing in front of her. Her smile lights up her entire face. I wrap her in my arms, picking her up and twirling her around. Her giggles ring out. My forehead presses against hers. “That was incredible. You never half-ass anything, do you, Firecracker? I didn’t know you could sing like that,” I tell her over the crowd.

I place her feet back on the ground. “I’ve never heard that song before.”

“It belongs to an artist from Oklahoma, Holly Beth. She’s an incredible singer/songwriter. I thought her song “Trevi” just kinda . . . fit.”

“Fit what?”

“Fit us.” She peers up at me, her expression vulnerable.

This incredible woman never ceases to amaze me. Grabbing her hand, I lead her off the stage and towards the bar.

“What are you doing here?” She asks.

Now, I could answer her question, but we all know that I avoid topics that I don’t want to talk about. The last thing I want her to know is that I’ve been pining over her this past week. I don’t want to confuse her more than she already is, especially when I’m confused over my own feelings. So, I do what I’m notorious for; I change the subject.

“What are you drinking?” I ask her as she plops down on a bar stool. I don’t let go of her hand, and I can’t help but notice how perfectly it fits in mine.

“Water is fine.” She smiles.

I turn to get the bartenders’ attention. I’m jolted when Aspen topples into me, thus causing me to bump into Carter. His draft beer spills over the edge of his glass just as he brings it to his mouth.

“Oops! Sorry.” River apologizes; she looks anything but sorry. Her eyes dance with mischief as she giggles.

“No worries, I was going to wear it anyways.” Carter winks at her.

River throws one arm around Aspen in a side hug. “Tough act to follow, sister. No one will want to go up there after that. You should’ve followed your dream.”

“Yeah? Well, starving artist doesn’t really align with being a single mom.”