Page 86 of Worth the Risk
“You’re done?”
“Uh-huh. I’m an excellent packer,” she says.
“So it should be super easy to pack up your apartment and move in with me?” I ask. Her smile fades.
“I don’t think I want to live next to my aunt, Luca. I’m still not sure of her involvement. I can only assume she’s sleeping with Woodward.”
“Gross. I thought she had higher standards than that. Actually, that’s kind of bullshit.”
“What?”
“He’s treated me horribly all season based on a rumor that I slept with his wife, but he’s potentially cheating on her at the same time? That’s ridiculous.”
“I’m not surprised he’s a hypocrite.”
As I shove my legs back into my suit, I grunt. “You know I have a house in Eternity Springs, right?”
Hannah’s mouth drops open. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Can I see it?”
“Of course, Pix. It’s pretty empty, but I think it would be nice to decorate it with you. I wasn’t joking when I said you could move in with me.”
Hannah studies me. “Can I think about it? It’s been a chaotic couple of days.”
I try not to let the hurt show on my face. “Sure, baby. The offer is open whenever you’re ready.”
“It’s just …” she trails off. “We’ve been dating for like less than a week, Luca. I’d like to actually go on a date with you. In public.”
I chuckle. “I already know exactly where I’m taking you for our first date, Pix. It’ll be the most perfect first date ever.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. And since it’ll be the last first date you ever go on, I’m going to make it epic.”
Hannah giggles and shakes her head at me. “Come on, dreamer. Let’s get this show on the road before the big bad wolf shows up.”
If you would have asked me at the end of last season how I’d feel when my hockey career was over, I’d have either refused to answer you, or I would have told you it was years away.
Until Hannah.
Until I recognized my future, and could let go of my past.
I’m not even sad.
Do I know what the future holds? What may or may not happen to Coach Woodward? What I’ll do with all of my free time? Nope. But I don’t care.
Because Hannah is worth the risk.
Hannah
We’re barely on the airplane before all three of our phones begin blowing up.
“Don’t answer. In fact, turn them off,” Uncle Bennett demands.
“Why?” I ask.