Page 134 of Playboy

The Art of Learning to Use a Pen…No, It’s Not a New Toy

I have a secret. I’ve discovered something even better than sexting.

Handwritten letters.

My god, there is nothing hotter than seeing my boyfriend’s handwriting scrawled across a piece of paper. Especially when the words detail everything he loves about me. What he’s going to do when he sees me again. How he dreams about me when he’s gone.

There’s no filter. No backspace button. His handwritten notes give me direct insight into what my man is thinking, but even more than that, it’s a tangible piece of him I can hold when he’s away. Knowing that he sat down and took the time to handwrite his thoughts makes me feel closer to him. I’ve started writing back, and if I have my way, we’ll do this for the rest of time. It’s the one benefit of being with a man who travels so much.

Do yourself a favor. Take out a pen and paper and try it out with me…

HANDWRITTEN LETTERS FROM DANIEL TO HANNAH

Dream girl,

WILL you do me a favor? Tonight when you crawl into bed and lay your head on your pillow, will you think about what you really want from this life? Not just in your career. Not just with our child. All of it. Make a real bucket list. Fill it with what you really dream of. The place you want to live. How you want to spend your days. And everything in between. I want to know every one of your dreams. It’s only fair, since you are every one of mine. I love you and can’t wait to be home with you.

Sweet dreams.

Yours,

Daniel

Dream girl,

YOU have the most beautiful smile. I hope our son inherits it. And I hope he has your eyes. And your laugh. I really hope he has my athletic ability, because let’s be honest, the only time you participated in a sport was around the bases with me, and we’ll never be telling him about that. I’ve been thinking about names. I know you like the idea of naming him after me, but I want him to be his own person. He’ll face challenges growing up with a famous author and a hockey god for parents. I really hope he inherits his humility from both of us, because damn, we have none of it.

I love you, baby. Miss you and can’t wait to hold you in my arms again.

Always yours,

Daniel

Dream girl,

MARRY me chicken. It’s what’s on the menu this week. Millie promised she’d make it for you on the same night we’ll have it in Chicago. Also, I snuck an Oreo cream pie into her freezer before I left. Make sure she takes it out for dessert and doesn’t hide it for herself. She had one bite of your birthday pie—the one I didn’t massacre—and I think she’s more hooked than you. Only a few more weeks until we meet our son. I can’t wait until I’m with the both of you. I love you.

Forever yours,

Daniel

FORTY-FOUR

DANIEL

“Can you taste it?”War yells.

The already wild energy in the locker room ramps up.

“Can youfeelit?” He pounds his palm against his chest.

He’s half dressed. Most of us are, as we gear up for tonight’s game.

Our response is a resounding “Yeah Cap!”

“It’s January, boys. We’re halfway there. And we’re number fucking four. Do we want to be number fucking four?” Red-faced, he stalks through the center of the room, careful to avoid the Bolts symbol in the middle. Hockey players are superstitious; the emblem is protected at all costs.

“Fuck no!” one of the rookies shouts.

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