Page 66 of Taking It To Overtime

He will thank you. He just has to change and shower first.

“Enjoy your time with her while you can. She’s been good for you, but juniors is a different game.”

Robbie frowns. “Coach?”

“First love is just that. First love. A few months on the ice with the big leagues and you won’t even remember her name. Plenty of girls available when you’re the first-round draft pick.” Coach shrugs. “Break it to her easy, though. You’re a gentleman and she’s a nice kid. Arthur’s a good guy, too.”

He’s not so sure he wants to celebrate at all. Not now.

“I’m going to kiss you,”Robbie warns me as he pulls the sedan up in front of my parents’ apartment building. Tell me now if you don’t want any PDA.”

“Why would you think I don’t?” I ask, trying not to laugh as his neck flushes red.

“Photographs?” He shrugs. “I know we agreed to take this as it comes, but we haven’t really talked about after tomorrow. I wasn’t sure if you wanted this to go public for real.”

Right. After tomorrow. When I leave. My shoulders tense just thinking about the plane, but my stomach trips at the thought of leaving Robbie.

He puts the car in park and I watch as he jogs around the front of the vehicle to get to my door. Ever the gentleman. He did the same thing any time he drove me around back in high school. He pulls the door open with a mock bow, but he’s smirking even as I slide my hand into his and let him lift me out of the passenger seat.

He yanks me to my feet but doesn’t step back, and we’re chest to chest in the middle of the senior living community parking lot. His eyes drop to my mouth and it would be easier to stop the earth from spinning than to stop my body from swaying into his and pressing our lips together. One of his hands is still clutching the car door, and he lets go to cup the curve of my waist. Hisfingers brush the strip of skin between my jean shorts and my baby tee. I huff a breathy sound into his mouth and there he is, hot and insistent, pressing against my button fly.

“Fuck Vera.” The words are a growl into my mouth and my lips curve. “I survived you for thirty-three years, just to have you take me out in a damn parking lot.”

I snort, trying to hold in my laughter, and we break apart as he pulls a hand down his face.

“Don’t be dramatic.” I lean in to kiss his cheek, the coarse hair of his beard rubbing against my chin. “That’s my job.”

“Is it?”

I pause. Is it? I meant more that I was always the one prone to histrionics while Robbie remained the one person tethering me to reality. But it could be. Right? Wasn’t I just thinking about how I was done with the fashion world? How it was close to done with me? I hate the travel. I have more money than I could need.

Coming home has never been something I’ve considered, but I could do it. I could go back to dance, to high school drama productions. I could retire and spend a few years helping little girls like me reach their goals. I have the connections and the know-how. It’s something I’d never considered. Maybe I should.

“That was meant to be self-deprecating,” Robbie says, ducking to catch my eyes. “You have to admit, it’s pretty dramatic to pine for a woman for sixteen years, especially when you’re the one who broke her heart.”

I force a chuckle. “You’re right. Drama King alert.”

He lifts my chin and presses a chaste kiss to my mouth.

“Have fun with your parents Vera, I’ll see you later.”

“Can I come watch the scrimmage?” Like old times? Sitting in the stands cheering on my Robbie? “Sorry. Didn’t think that through. I don’t want to distract the kids.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I’d love for you to come, but we’re going to get started right away. I know you planned breakfast with your mom and dad.”

I did plan breakfast with them. I’ve spent very little time with my parents. Partly because they’re busier than I thought they’d be, partly because I’ve been focusing every spare minute I have on time with this man. I’ve felt very guilty about putting Robbie first, especially when I came home to see my dad, but I can’t seem to stop myself. We’re cramming sixteen years into one week. Whatever happens next, it’s still going to happen with distance. I don’t want to miss a second available to us.

“Maybe we can all come.”

“I’d like that.”

I feel his eyes on me as I make my way up the concrete walk and let myself into the building. When I turn for one last glance, he’s still there, leaning his shoulders against his dad’s too-small car, arms crossed over his broad chest, and smiling the soft grin he used to reserve for only me. My heart turns over in my chest.

“Mom?” I push the front door open with the key Dad gave me and step into my parents’ apartment. My pulse is still thrumming like the wings on the hummingbirds that visit the neon red feeder Mom puts on the balcony.

“There you are baby,” my mom peeks out of the kitchen, her checkered apron already tied around her waist. “Did Robbie drop you off?”

I nod and wrap my arms around my mom’s neck. I can feel the delicate arch of her shoulders and the bumps of each vertebra under her skin. When I pull back, I can see the fine lines around her eyes and mouth, the gray hairs along her temple. My mother isn’t old, but for the first time I can see that she isn’t in her forties anymore. I hug her again, this time tighter, glad I came home on a whim.

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