Page 92 of My Lucky Charm

That hits me. I think I’m finally starting to understand, and it feels good to be wanted.

Although, needing someone who can put a puck in the back of a goal is a bit different than feeling like you need someone to breathe. I don’t point this out.

I don’t do anything halfway, and I know if I even considered letting anyone but Scarlett in, it would consume me.

And then, as if he read my mind, he adds, “And I don’t just mean on the ice. I need Poppy too. She calms me down. Big time. She makes me laugh. Like, legitimately makes me laugh. She’s nuts.” I see him drift off in a memory or an image for a moment, then he says, “She reminds me that there’s more to this life than hockey.”

“Glad that works for you,” I say. “Wouldn’t work for me.”

But even as I say the words, I think about the way it felt to have Eloise in the stands. The opposite of the way I expected it to feel. Calming.

And I played better for it.

Best I’ve played since I got here.

“I respect that,” Burke says.

Good.

Because that’s the way it is.

I can’t get distracted. I can’t even give Scarlett all the attention I want—I can’t imagine having to manage romantic feelings.

Maybe someday, later, when all of this is in the rearview mirror, things will be different.

But for now, this is the way it needs to be.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Eloise

Sitting in the stands at a Comets game next to Gray’s little girl is enough to make me dream of something I rarely admit out loud.

A family.

I want a family of my own.

I’m not saying I need a man to make me happy or to determine my self-worth because I absolutely don’t. I don’t have big professional dreams like my sisters. I don’t need to own things, or run things, or even work all the time in a place with other people.

Sometimes, even though I don’t talk about it with my sisters or my friends, I think about a simple life. A family. Kids. A dog. The whole deal.

And that suits me. That suits me right down to the ground.

I grew up with parents whose love for each other was slightly left of nauseating, and the older I’ve gotten, the more I realize I want that, too. I’m starting to figure out where my talents lie, and one of those talents is being good at taking care of other people.

Little people.

Handsome people.

And, if they just happen to be named Scarlett and Gray, that would be totally fine.

It’s silly to fantasize. The timing is totally wrong. The situation is way off-limits.

But I can’t help it.

If I let myself, I can imagine a scenario where I’m not watching Scarlett as a favor to my boss, where I’m hanging out with her because she’s partly mine.

And with that, I sound like one of the stalkers people hear about on true crime podcasts.

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