Page 40 of Soulmates and Slapshots
“I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have something to do or somewhere to be. It’s been nice.”
He’s quiet for a few seconds. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”
“So am I,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
Our eyes lock once again, causing an electric current to shoot through me.
I hold up my glass. “To a fresh start.”
“And to new beginnings,” he adds.
There is something about the way this man looks at me. This feeling is something I haven’t felt in a very long time and it’s both terrifying and exciting. Maybe living in the moment is okay for once, because soon I’ll be leaving Maple Falls, and I don’t know when I’ll be back.
“Okay, your friend was right. This might be the best pumpkin bread I’ve ever had,” I say as we leave Maple Grounds Bakery. “You need to call him and thank him.”
“Nah,” he says. “Cooper isn’t big on conversation.”
“So, you said he played for the Ice Breakers when they were a charity team?”
“Yes,” he says. “He came to Maple Falls and then fell for his new publicist.”
“Oh, wow.”
“And if you knew him, you’d never believe it. He’s quiet and serious, and he hates the spotlight.”
“Um, he’s probably in the wrong line of work then.”
Weston grins. “You’d think—but he was meant to be on the ice. And speaking of loyalty, he’s always said he will never leave the Tennessee Wolves. He’ll quit playing before that happens.”
“Do you miss the team?”
He nods. “Yes, but I like the new team and my teammates. I think we’re connecting well—we’ve even started doing extra workouts at my teammate Cade’s house.”
“That’s good. I’m sure it’s very important for you all to create those bonds.”
We continue chatting as we walk down Main Street, the store windows and streetlamps illuminating our path.
“It’s starting to feel like that,” he tells me. “We’re getting ready to head out on the road for the first time. It’ll be interesting to see how we play together away from our home arena.”
Hearing this causes a lump to form in my throat. I hadn’t even thought about the Ice Breakers going on the road.
“Oh. How many games are away?” I ask, trying to hide my disappointment.
“Three games, plus a few travel days.”
Ugh.It’ll be so strange here without him.
“Have you decided when you’re going home?” he asks.
Home?I don’t even know where that is anymore.
“No, but I need to decide soon.”
Weston doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. This might be the longest stretch where neither of us has said a word.
“Fiona,” he says, his pace slowing.
“Yes?” I say, turning toward him.
