Rowan
 
 Well, typically I use my body, gloves, blocker, and stick to stop shots. If I’m in the correct position at the right time, pucks don’t make it into the net.
 
 That’s the gist of how I do it.
 
 I laugh, lifting my gaze from my phone as I realize there’s no one laughing with me. It’s just me, myself, and I, lying alone on a bed in a motel room in a city on the opposite side of the country. The sudden gravity of the loneliness is overwhelming and my laughter dies off as I swallow back my emotions.
 
 Pulling myself away from the uncomfortable realization, I look back at my phone, the loneliness transforming into longing as a tender smile drifts across my lips.
 
 Hadley
 
 Smart-ass.
 
 Rowan
 
 Debatable.
 
 Two more messages come through back-to-back before I get the chance to argue with him. The first is a picture of Lucy. It must be from earlier in the day because the sun is still shining in the background. She’s sitting in one of the bouncer seats we got for her, drool dripping from her lips and her arms stretched out as she’s trying to reach for the phone.
 
 Rowan
 
 Lucy misses you.
 
 Hadley
 
 I miss her.
 
 Rowan
 
 She’s been cranky lately. I think she’s sick of me and wants you to come home.
 
 Hadley
 
 Are you trying to use your daughter against me?
 
 You send me sweet pictures of her so I get on the next plane back to Aston?
 
 Rowan
 
 I most certainly would never do that.
 
 But . . . would it work?
 
 Hadley
 
 That depends . . . What’s in it for me?
 
 Rowan
 
 Unlimited baby snuggles and pottery lessons.
 
 My chest and my throat constrict. I didn’t anticipate how being away from the two of them would leave me feeling this empty.
 
 Hadley
 
 Sold.
 
 Rowan