Page 157 of Check & Chase
A ghost of a smile touches her lips. “You might have to wait a while. Hartford isn’t exactly around the corner.”
“I’d drive there every day off if that’s what it takes. Distance isn’t a deal-breaker for me.”
She studies me, searching for something in my expression. Whatever she sees must satisfy her because she nods slightly. “I need to go. And you need to get back inside. The media’s probably going crazy wondering where their game-winning goal scorer disappeared to.”
Fuck. The media. Coach. The two minutes that have stretched far longer than promised. “You’re right. But this conversation isn’t over.”
“No. I guess it isn’t.”
I take a risk then, stepping close enough to touch her face gently, giving her every opportunity to pull away. When she doesn’t, I brush my thumb across her cheek.
“Can I kiss you? Please.”
I see the conflict in her eyes, the part that’s still hurt warring with the part that still loves me. For a second, I think she’s going to pull back, turn away.
But then she rises on her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine.
The kiss is soft, tentative, like we’re both testing the waters. It lights something in me I didn’t know was still there. I cradle her face, scared that if I move wrong, this moment will slip away.
She pulls back first, eyes wide and vulnerable. “I have to go.”
“Can I call you?”
She nods, still looking dazed. “Yes. Just give me a few days to get settled first.”
It’s more than I dared hope for. “Drive safe. And Emma?” I wait until she meets my eyes. “Thank you. For coming to the game. For listening. For not closing the door completely.”
She bites her lip, emotion flashing across her face. “Goodbye, Chase.”
I watch her drive away, standing in the parking lot long after her taillights disappear, feeling both completely drained and surprisingly hopeful.
My phone vibrates—a barrage of texts from Coach, teammates, and management wondering where I’ve disappeared to.
I jog back into the arena, making my way to the locker room where Coach is waiting, looking pissed.
“Two minutes turned into twenty. Media’s still waiting. Please tell me whatever you were doing was worth it.”
“It was. And I’ll accept whatever punishment you think is appropriate. But I had to talk to her before she left town.”
“Emma?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“She’s still going to Hartford, but she’s willing to talk.”
Coach studies me, then nods slowly. “Good enough for now. Get changed, face the media, take your lumps like a man.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Mitchell?” he calls after me. “Next time you need to chase a woman down, at least take off your skate guards first.”
I glance down, realizing for the first time that I’ve been running through the parking lot with plastic guards still attached to my blades. No wonder my knee is screaming.
“Noted,” I mutter, feeling heat rise in my cheeks as teammates who overheard begin to snicker.
“Lover boy put love before hockey,” Miller teases. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
