Page 118 of Hockey Boy
Fall in New England.
A walk to work with my best friend.
Bliss warms my cheeks and brings a smile to my face. “Not freaking out even a little bit.”
“Good. Liv’s awesome. Not just as a future sister-in-law, but at work. And she keeps Beckett in line.” She snorts. “Well, as much as anyone can keep that man baby in line.”
“He really is hard to figure out. One minute, he’s aloof and glaring, and the next, he’s on the ground, wrestling with Finn.”
Sara nods, a big smile spanning her face. “Exactly. At work, he’s a lot more reserved.” She grips my arm. “Unless he’s with Cortney Miller. He calls him Man Bun. Jeez. I can’t even tell you how excited I am to talk to you about all this insanity.”
“Man Bun?”
She smiles. “He’s the GM for the Boston Revs, and he’s married Liv’s best friend Dylan. You’ll love her. They’re neighbors too.”
Beckett’s comment from the other night comes tumbling back to me. The house on his street with lots of room for Aiden to run. I can’t help but giggle at the suggestion. For a moment, I force myself to really picture it. A home with Aiden. Family nearby. My best friend turned sister in the same city. Millie, Liv, all their kids.
A full life. One that almost makes up for the lackluster response from my own parents after I texted them both, asking if we could get together this week so I could talk to them in person about my engagement.
My mother told me she could possibly fit me in next Friday.
Next Friday.
She only has one child, and she can’t make time for me until a week from now, and that’s not guaranteed.
Why am I even bothering? They’ll only ruin my joy. They never liked Aiden, and they’ll never accept the engagement. My mother will pout, and my father is probably already scheming ways to break us up.
Outside Langfield Corp, I tip my head back and take in the skyscraper. The hundreds of floor-to-ceiling windows make it look like a hunk of blue ice standing amid the standard brick of Boston.
Is that why they chose the design? The family is obsessed with the color, with the sport—at least Aiden is—so it wouldn’t surprise me in the least.
I eye my reflection, then Sara’s. My faded pink hair is pulled low and to the side in an elaborate braid. My darker pink sweater cinches at my waist. Beside me, Sara is wearing a black skirt and black boots, just like I am. She leans into me, also taking in our reflection. For a long moment, all we do is breathe.
“I’m so proud of you,” she says.
My heart squeezes. I’m proud of us both. For going after what we want. For taking a risk after being hurt. For being true to ourselves.
“Come on,” I say, tugging her inside. I’m ready for the next big thing.
As Sara leads me through the offices, she introduces me to every person we pass. She’s obviously well liked. It isn’t even slightly surprising, since she’s my favorite person.
Hysterical, kind, and generous with her time and affection. She’s always been all of those things. For years, though, she saved those parts of herself for only the people closest to her. In college, she was closed off, and I made it my mission to help her make friends. Dragging her to parties. Forcing her to flirt.
It was all in an attempt to be so loud that no one ever truly got to know the real me.
Except for Sara. But even with her, I hid my softer side. Aiden may be the only person who’s ever known the whole of me. It’s fitting, since I only feel whole when we’re together. When I’m his and he’s mine.
Sara practically drags me toward her office, but we stop short when we hear giggles from the door beside hers.
“Beckett, stop. Not here.”
“Can’t. Need you.”
That phrase is followed by a loud, low growl.
My best friend and I look at one another, eyes wide, and burst into laughter.
“Holy shit. Beckett can get it,” I whisper.