Page 82 of From Ice to Home
But I can’t.
“Okay, talk to you later,” I concede, hoping the ache will go away long enough for me to do what I’m supposed to do here in Vancouver. I linger for half a second before finally pulling the phone from my ear. There’s so much more I want to say.
And I want to follow it up with kissing her senseless.
But it’ll have to wait.
“Unbelievable,” Nikolai’s voice comes from behind me. “This will be the first time I’m not the last one on the ice.”
Turning around I look into the Russian goalie’s angry blue eyes. I’m sure he’s going to be upset with me for a while after what I said. And now, while I’m threatening to ruin his pre-game ritual, it’s just making him more angry at me.
“You know I have to be the last one, Walker, move it.”
Grabbing my gloves and my stick, I head toward the door. “Yeah, yeah…I’m going.”
I’ll have to make things up to Niko at some point. But for now, hopefully he’ll channel it into the game tonight.
I’m supposedto be taking a nap.
Instead I find myself staring at the ceiling, counting the lines and failing miserably at quieting my mind enough to drift off. Every part of playing in the NHL is demanding—even this. And somehow, that’s always been a bit ridiculous to me. I can handle a packed arena, the pressure of the final two minutes while playing with an empty net, the weight of expectations…but I can’t sleep on demand.
Not like EJ who has no such problem. Across the room, he’s sound asleep, his light snoring filling the space.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, willing my brain to shut down enough for sleep to take over. But it won’t. Not when that article is still running through my head. Not when I keep picturing Hannah’s ringless finger. Not when I keep wondering if I’m going to be good enough tonight to give us the strong start we need in this final series.
Admitting defeat, I reach for my phone on the nightstand before dialing Hannah’s number.
“Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?” Hannah answers, her voice laced with amusement.
A smile tugs at my lips. “You know I’ve never been very good at the nap part of hockey.”
“I remember,” she says, and I can hear the laughter in her tone. “Only this time I think the stakes are a bit higher. Your coach probably wouldn’t be too impressed if you ducked out to spend the afternoon with me. Remember when we went to the beach before your final game?”
“I remember.” There’s no way I could ever forget that afternoon. We got ice-cream, walked along the surf and talked about how we wanted to go to Norway and watch the Northern Lights while sleeping in a glass igloo. “Perhaps we should go to Norway for our honeymoon.”
She laughs on the other side. “We might be the first couple to head to snow for a honeymoon.”
“If you ask me, it’s a smart move. You’d have to get real close so I could keep you warm.”
“Mm,” she says, “should’ve known you have an agenda.”
I close my eyes, sinking deeper into the sound of her voice. “What are you doing right now? Where are you?”
“I’m home, on the couch,” she says, a certain wistfulness in her voice.
Hearing her call it home, has my chest tightening. “I miss you so much,” I murmur, wishing she was here with me. “I want to play knowing you’re in the stands, wearing my number. And I want a good luck kiss…or three.”
“Well, I am wearing your number right now. And next time, I’ll be there with you.” I swear I can hear her smiling over the phone. “As for the kisses, you’ll just have to kiss me even more when you get back, you know, to make up for the ones you’re missing.”
The image of her on the couch, wearing my jersey, has me desperate to feel her close. To taste the warmth of her lips. “Is that a promise?”
“I promise,” she says softly. “After this I’ll be with you at every game. Home or away.”
I exhale, leaning back into my pillow. “I like the sound of that.”
A voice calls in the background.“Do you want mushrooms?”
“Yes, extra mushrooms,” Hannah replies. “And lots of cheese.”
