CHAPTER 26
Stone
I stop at the door to Harlow’s condo and fish my keys from my pocket. It’s one key heavier now that I added hers four days ago when we made up.
Or rather, when I prostrated and begged forgiveness for being so stupid.
It was the shortest breakup in the history of breakups, although Harlow said we weren’t truly broken up. She calls it “my need to get my shit figured out.”
Which I quickly did. That night in bed, I tossed and turned, replaying things over and over, focusing on what got me upset at her parents’ house, and all I could conclude was that her loving, accepting family was too antithetical to what I knew, and therefore, I couldn’t trust it.
I didn’t tell myself I was being stupid, because I actually think, given my history and how horribly dysfunctional my parents are, I have the right to get spooked.
But most importantly, what I figured out is that even if I do get spooked, I won’t run away from the best fucking thing to ever happen to me—and I mean, better than being a professional hockey player and better than winning the Cup.
Harlow Alston is truly the only thing I need to make my life whole.
So, yeah… figured out all that during my long, lonely, sleepless night. I was exhausted the next morning, but I knew I needed to fix things right away. My life and future happiness depended on immediate prostration and groveling.
Unfortunately, Harlow didn’t answer her door when I knocked. Odin was inside barking, and when that didn’t spur her to open the door and I didn’t hear her telling him to be quiet, I knew she wasn’t home.
I decided to go for a walk, hoping the crisp morning air would clear my head. I explored the neighborhood on foot, found some more prime spots for Odin to go potty should I ever get the privilege of walking him again. I had a game that evening and was hoping to see Harlow before I had to leave for the arena. I’d resolved that if she wasn’t at her place by the time I made it back, I’d call and beg her for a meeting, hopefully before the game. I knew if I didn’t fix things before then, my head would not be in it, and I’d play like shit.
She contacted me before I got back, and it was not what I wanted to hear. She’d texted that my dad was in our building, so she was going over there.
Fear sliced through me, because I had no clue what my father was capable of. He’d seemingly lost touch with reality, so my leisurely morning walk turned into an all-out sprint to our place. Reaching the top of the staircase and watching my father advance on Harlow, I knew at that moment I had the capacity to kill if it meant protecting her.
Luckily, it didn’t come to that, as it would’ve been hard to have a relationship with me in prison, but you know the rest.
I love her, and I’ve made sure she knows it.
She loves me, and she gave me a key to her condo. While I didn’t give her one to mine—I have to have one made first—I suspect I’ll probably be selling mine and moving into hers. I know that might be rushing things, but I’m envisioning the future I want, and I’m going to get it.
That future will not include a relationship with my father. I’ve made it clear to him he’s not welcome in my life. My mom is a bit of a tougher pill to swallow. I think she needs to leave him, but I don’t think she will. Still, we’ll keep trying, and I’ll make it clear she only has to call and Harlow and I will help her.
I’ve been gone for two days—an away game against the Cold Fury—and I’m almost too giddy with excitement to see Harlow. We’ve talked and texted when our schedules allowed, but being away from her has been kind of miserable. I hope that’ll get better as I really have no choice but to travel with my job. But for now… I’m just ready to look at her.
Kiss her.
Hold her.
Get her in bed and do lots of dirty things to her.
I slip inside the condo. This is her place, not mine, but it feels like I’m coming home even if she has moose heads and gymnastic dragons in tutus on the walls. I’ve never had that feeling before.
When I step inside, I immediately see Odin on the couch. We’re definitely making progress. He doesn’t growl but instead lifts his head to look at me, and miracle of miracles, his tail thumps against the leather cushion, as if he’s happy I’m home.
Glancing to the right, I see Harlow standing at the stove with her back to me, hair on top of her head. She’s in my red flannel shirt I left here the night before my road trip.