Page 44 of Pucking Fate

“Hell yes,” I answer without needing to think about it. I want Maya to be mine, and not just so that we can be a real family for Finley. I love her so damn much.

“Then calm your tits and quit trying to rush shit.”

I sigh from the weight of his words settling heavily on my shoulders. I know he’s right. Patience has never been my strong suit, but if I want Maya back for good, I’m going to have to give her as much time as she needs.

“You need a game plan,” Luke says. “Something that shows her you’re serious and in it for the long haul, and that your dedication to her and Finley is just as strong as your dedication to the game.”

I nod my agreement even though he can’t see, feeling a spark of determination. “Yeah. I need something big, though, something that will show her I’m not messing around this time.”

“Nah, man. You’ve got to think about the little things. Anyone can pull off a big, one-time grand gesture. It’s the small things on a consistent basis that will convince her.”

“There’s no way to do that before training starts, is there?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Probably not.”

“If I can’t convince Maya to give us a chance before Finley starts school here, then my chance of convincing her to move in with me in Greensboro is slim to none.”

“Jesus,” Luke mutters. “You asked the woman to move in with you?”

“Yes. It’s what I wanted years ago, but she wouldn’t return my calls or texts. And I swear I sent her so many cheesy ass letters, but she said she never got them.”

“Well, maybe her not moving in is for the best. You don’t want to jump into this too fast and screw it up, right?”

“Right.”

“Then you’re going to have to work on building her trust, all the way from North Carolina.”

“Fuck.” Putting that much distance between me and Maya feels like the bane of my existence, like it’s going to cost me everything.

And unfortunately, Maya’s made it clear she’s not ready to move and I don’t have a choice in going back to Greensboro. I have to show up for my team, keep earning money that maybe one day she’ll accept for herself and Finley.

19

Maya

After my talk with Preston about ending things with Christian, and a whole lot of tears, I’m ready to move forward. To try to move on with my life after being frozen in time for nearly six years. I want to be more than a mother and I need more than Christian can give me, even if I crave him at night so much it hurts.

Sure, fooling around with him was great, but afterward I couldn’t help but think about how he’s done the same thing with so many other women, that our time together doesn’t mean anything to him. Or at least not the same thing it means for me.

I missed Christian for so long that I think I got ahead of myself when he started coming around, spending time with Finley. When we kissed and he touched me, it felt so good to be wanted again after feeling invisible to men, to Christian, for years. But we need to set boundaries for Finley. Someday, he’s going to find out he’s his father, and I’m the one who kept him away. I can’t cut Christian out of our son’s life again, nomatter what he does to me. We have to be a united team on solid ground. Which means I have to get over my feelings for him and have a co-parenting relationship only with the hockey playboy.

And who knows, maybe Preston is right, and I haven’t met the man I’m meant to spend my life with yet. I never will if I keep pining for Christian.

That’s why, when Spencer Williams sends me a text message asking if I want to meet him for dinner tonight and get Finley’s signed jersey, I decide to say yes with one caveat—I told him the date is contingent on me finding a babysitter on such short notice.

And I think I know just the person who should be free tonight and has more than earned the opportunity.

Not only will it be good for me to go out, but it’ll also give Christian a chance to prove to me that I can trust him alone with Finley. It’s what he’s been working toward for the past few weeks, moving a step closer to telling Finley the truth.

Walking outside to the hockey game in the backyard, I tell Finley, “Time to refuel, buddy. Go grab a snack and some water.”

“But Mom…we’re in the middle of a game!” he whines, his narrow shoulders drooping.

Christian makes a loud buzzing sound. “Great timing since it’s intermission!” he tells our son, pointing his stick at him. “Even if it wasn’t, you have to do what your mother tells you to with no complaining, right? You wouldn’t whine to your hockey coach if he told you to take a water break, would you?”

“No,” Finley mutters before he tosses his stick down in the grass and stomps up the steps to the porch past me, heading inside.

Smiling at Christian, I tell him, “Thanks for backing me up.”

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