Page 26 of Snowed In With the PUCK

Trixie beams at me one more time before turning to Nigel. “Ready to go, darling? We’ve got reservations at that fancy restaurant you wanted to try.”

Nigel nods and glances back at Jessica. “We’ll catch up more later. I’m sure you’re busy with… whatever this is,” he says, gesturing between Jessica and me with a dismissive wave of his hand. Then, with a final look around the house, he turns and heads back out the door with Trixie in tow.

The second they’re gone, Jessica lets out a long breath, her shoulders sagging with relief. “I can’t believe that just happened,” she mutters, rubbing her temples as if trying to fend off a headache.

“You okay?” I ask, stepping closer. I pull her into a hug and she relaxes against me.

She looks up at me, her expression the color of embarrassment. “Sorry about that. My dad’s… well, he’s always like that. And Trixie… ugh. She’s just one in a long string of too-young airheads who date him for his money and connections.” She shakes her head, clearly not in the mood to deal with any of it.

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” I say, offering her a reassuring smile. “You handled it well.” I find myself kissing her forehead in a gesture so familiar, it’s like we’ve been “real” dating for years.

She lets out a short laugh, though there’s no real humor in it. “I doubt that.”

Her energy feels heavier, and I want to pull her into the bedroom and rock her world, boundaries be damned. We’ve crossed almost all of them already, anyway. I can see the stressin Jessica’s eyes, the weight of whatever’s going on between her and her dad pressing down on her.

“You don’t have to explain anything,” I say quietly, sensing that this is a sore spot for her. “But I’m here if you want to talk.”

Jessica looks up at me, and for a brief second, I see something vulnerable in her expression—something like longing. But just as quickly, she shakes her head, brushing it off. “Thanks,” she says, her voice soft. “But I’ll be fine.”

I nod, respecting her boundaries, but sooner than not, all the things she’s not telling me will need to come out.

Jessica sighs and gives me a small smile. “I’m starving. Let’s eat.”

We head to the kitchen, and for now, at least, things feel somewhat normal again. But meeting Nigel gives me a world of compassion for Jessica. I can see the little girl in her wanting to please her dad and be the success he wants her to be. I wish she didn’t have to try so hard to please him.

Chapter twelve

Jessica

The snowstorm that nightrolls in fast, thick flakes flooding down in the cold night air, covering everything in a heavy blanket of white. I’m standing at the front window, watching as the storm transforms the world outside. Just an hour ago, my dad and Trixie left, his overly critical voice still echoing in my ears. Now, silence has settled over the house, except for the sound of the wind whipping against the windows.

Eric’s in the kitchen, pacing and checking his phone like he’s expecting a miracle. I know what’s on his mind. He’s worried about making it to Denver tomorrow, worried about practice and the game. The storm has him on edge, and I can feel the irritation radiating off him even from here.

“We’re screwed,” he mutters, mostly to himself, but loud enough for me to hear. “There’s no way we’re getting out of here tomorrow if this keeps up. The roads are going to be a disaster.”

I turn away from the window and walk toward the kitchen, trying to keep my own frustration in check. “Maybe it’ll stop soon,” I offer, though the snow shows no sign of letting up.

Eric gives me a skeptical look, then checks his phone again, as if it will somehow change the weather. “I doubt it.”

The remnants of pizza are still in the kitchen, along with the remnants of Eric’s softness toward me after Dad left. Now, he’s wound tight. I sigh. Relationships are complex because things change way too quickly. Moods come and go. Priorities shift. And right now, his priority is his job, hockey, as it should be, even though it hurts me to feel him grow detached so fast.

He’s right about one thing. The storm isn’t going anywhere, and the reality is sinking in. We’re stuck here, just the two of us, in this big empty house. Part of me is relieved. After the chaos of the past few days, a quiet night sounds… nice. But I can tell Eric’s mind is panicking.

“I need to get back to Denver,” he says, his voice tight. “I can’t miss practice tomorrow. And I definitely can’t miss the game.”

His words hit me in a way I wasn’t expecting. I know how important hockey is to him—it’s his whole life. But hearing him say it like that, with so much urgency, makes something twist inside me. He’s so focused on getting back to the team, to the game, that it feels like everything else, including me, is just… secondary.

“Maybe we should have stayed in the city,” he continues, running a hand through his hair. “I need to find a place of my own downtown. This house is too far out. I can’t risk getting stuck like this.”

A place downtown. A place of his own, closer to his team. A place that doesn’t include me.

I try to shake the thought, but it clings to me like the cold outside. Eric’s talking about practical things—getting to practice, making sure he’s ready for the game—but all I hear is distance. Like he’s already planning his escape, already moving on from whatever this is between us.

“Right,” I say, forcing a smile. “That makes sense.”

But it doesn’t feel right. Not at all.

Eric glances at me, his eyes softening for a moment. “I’m not saying I don’t like staying here with you, Jessica. It’s just..”

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