“Do you have any other hobbies?” I ask.
“I actually really enjoy drawing.”
“Really? What kind of things do you draw?”
“Animals, landscapes.” She crinkles her nose. “Not much time for it, though.”
She steps closer, and maybe it’s only me—but the air shifts. Tension sparks, sliding through me and waking up a hunger I haven’t felt in a long time.
“Drink?” she asks, shifting the topic of conversation.
I drag in a breath. “I should probably get going. Rest day tomorrow and then a game on Sunday.”
Her lips curve. “Congratulations on your team’s standings. You’re going to make the finals. I can feel it.”
That catches me. “You’ve been watching?”
“Of course,” she says, like it’s obvious. “I have to root for my homeboy.”
“Handsome homeboy,” I correct, which makes her laugh.
But then I go serious. “Sunday’s game again Montreal is crucial. We’re currently tied.”
“I know. I love the new lineup with you and Penn playing together.”
I grin, surprised and a little impressed. “You know your hockey.”
She laughs lightly. “You don’t grow up in Snowberry Falls and not know a thing or two about hockey.”
“What are you doing Sunday?” I ask, the words out before I’ve fully thought them through.
She taps her chin, mock-serious. “Hmm. Let me think.” Then she grins and points to a cushioned chair by the fire. “Sitting there, watching you play.”
“Forget that.” My voice drops, more certain now. “Come to the game. Sit with the WAGs in the box.”
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
“Of course. Give Jaylynn a call and I’ll talk to Penn.” I nudge her gently, playful, though my chest is tight with something else. “As my girlfriend, I’d love to have you come. Plus this will really help seal the deal that we’re a couple, for the ruse, of course.”
Her gaze lingers on me, skeptical, searching. “And how exactly is this helping me with hot guy at the coffee shop?”
Shit. Right. That.
For a second I honestly forgot what this whole charade was supposed to be about.
“Let’s just hope he watches hockey and follows the players,” I say, though the words feel thin compared to the weight of the moment between us. “If we’re seen together after the game, someone’s bound to post a picture. That’ll get his attention.” I exhale slowly. “I get asked all the time why I’m still single, so if I’m seen with you, that’s going to raise questions.”
“Most eligible bachelor,” she teases softly, but then her hand lands gently on my arm. Her touch is light, but it burns straight through my skin. “Jax, I can’t say I blame you. After…”
Her words trail off, and she doesn’t need to finish. The memory is there between us anyway—the engagement disaster, the public fallout, the whispers and headlines. My jaw tightens. Christ, Ember had even shown up at Christmas, like she had any right. Thank God the people of Snowberry Falls are protective. Boston isn’t so forgiving.
Any time I did hook up here, I kept it hidden. Meeting in shadows, sneaking around. Nothing about it ever felt good, and after a while it just felt… empty. Wrong. So I stopped.
Still, standing here in her little living room, vanilla in the air, I can’t ignore the part of me that aches. That wants. Not just the physical stuff, though God knows it’s been a while. No, what I crave is what I see in my teammates’ lives—the steady hand on their arm, the way someone’s face lights up when they walk into the room.
I fill my hours with hobbies, with distractions, with the game that has always carried me. But none of it touches the hollow place inside me that longs for something more. Everything more.
And for the first time in a long while, as I stand here with Rowyn, I feel dangerously close to remembering what that could look like.