Page 47 of The Stud

Exactly how long the lull lasts between us is unknown.

How long does it feel, on the other skate?

Like I’ve just entered double OT in game seven of The Cup playoffs.

“I won’t miss the game, Tanner,” promises Arden, pulling my gaze up to hers. “And I would help you pick shit up, but the ear infection I’m currently facing off against is already up on points.”

“Go back to bed,” I warmly insist. “Just leave the door open for me, aye?”

She simply nods.

Which is still a yes.

An invitation.

A welcome.

Holy Hull.

She’s actually gonna let meintoher home.

Arden along with Bear return to wherever they were, leaving me to finish collecting the remaining scattered items on my own. Afterward, I verify that the crockpot is still usable, grab it, and follow the same path they took to the last place I ever expected to actually get to see.

I mean IhopedI would.

Iplannedlike I would.

However, just because you plan a shot, wind up for a shot, and thentakethe shot, doesn’t mean it’s going to go in.

Especially not with a metaphorical tendy like Arden Hoss.

Much like the exterior, the interior is almost a total shock.

It’s quite open yet oddly empty.

Sure, there’s furniture, but it all looks more decorative than practical.

Staged.

Almost as though we’re in a designer home used to give homeowners an example of the floor plans offered.

Walls are all neutral shades, and if it weren’t for the random hockey décor scattered through the space I cover, I’d question if she even really lived here.

The large open kitchen connects to a wide-open living room that’s backed by beautiful floor to ceiling windows which reveal a literal breathtaking backyard. “Wow.” Placing the bags on the empty island bar precedes me actively pulling my attention away from the lush outdoors to where she’s curled in a ball, resting her head on Bear like he’s a pillow. “Your home is gorgeous.”

“You’re just saying that because you live in an apartment.”

Chortles are attached to my search for the nearest outlet. “Perhaps.”

“Probably.”

“Likely.”

“Most definitely.”

The smallest pause is taken to veer topics. “Did you just move in?”

“Nope.”

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