Page 81 of Pucking Fate

“I wish I could’ve met her,” I tell him.

“Me too.”

“Her accident is why I’m still a nervous wreck driving…”

“You-you get nervous driving?” I ask him in concern. “And you still drove five hours to visit us?”

“Well, yeah. I would do anything for you and Finley. I would drive across the country every single day if I had to,” he says with a grin.

And I don’t doubt his assertion for a second. He would do anything for us.

Learning all this about Christian’s past, how he lost his mom so unexpectedly as a teenager and hates driving, well, it feels like the universe is trying to give me another reason why I should give in and move to North Carolina.

But I can’t upend my and Finley’s life to move after a few happy weeks with Christian. Once hockey season starts, it won’t matter if we’re three hundred or three miles away, he’s going to be too busy for us.

Christian

I don’t know why I told Maya about my mom. Or why I hadn’t told her before now.

I guess, since we’re starting over, I just wanted her to understand how messed up I still was when we were younger. The pain of losing someone you love makes it damn hard to want to do it all over again.

But I would’ve tried my damnedest for Maya years ago if she had given me another chance. Because I knew, even then, that I was already in love with her when I left her to go pro.

34

Maya

Monday morning, when I wake up in my own bed back in Maryland, there’s a gnawing ache in my chest that I can’t shake. My skin is still tingling from the memory of Christian’s touch, the way his lips felt against mine. And I can’t help but smile, remembering how much fun Finley had visiting him and Preston.

God, I miss them both.

I sit up and scrub my palms over my face, trying to clear the fog from my mind. But no matter how hard I try, the thoughts keep circling back to Christian.

He cares about me, about Finley, aboutusso much.

And…I don’t know what to do with that.

I care about him and want him too. I think I even still love him. But it’s not that simple. It’s never been that simple with Christian. There’s too much at risk if it ends badly, which it probably will once the season starts.

I sigh and roll out of bed, pulling on a robe as I make my way to the kitchen. I pour myself a cup of coffee, but I barely taste it. I try to distract myself with the reminder that, on Thursday, I’ve got a meeting at the retirement home to discuss my pay and benefits. I should be more excited about starting my first job, finding an actual purpose for myself, and being able to support me and Finley on my own.

I’m just not as giddy about the job as I was a few weeks ago.

The ringing phone interrupts my warring thoughts, and it’s not my cell phone. I take my time reaching for the cordless landline tucked in the corner of the kitchen counter because I’m certain it’s some sort of scam recording.

“Hello?” I answer with a heavy sigh.

“Maya?”

The woman’s voice on the other side is the last one I expected to hear—my mother’s.

I pull the phone away from my ear to check the caller ID. Sure enough, it’s a phone number with the area code of Peachtree City, Georgia, where Preston and I grew up. Where our parents still live.

“Maya?” she calls my name again, the first time I’ve spoken to the woman since I told her and my father that I was pregnant, and they threw me out of the house.

“Yes?” I reply curtly.

“Maya, it’s me. It’s mom,” she says as if I’ve forgotten my own mother’s voice.

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