Page 91 of Hockey Boy

What is with this guy and all his Boston facts? It’s like he’s trying to sell me on the brilliance of the city. Internally, I roll my eyes. That’s so something I’ve read in a book. Big Boyfriend Energy right there. But that’s not what we are. We’re…God, who knows what we are.

Almost-fake-engaged exes who like to fuck and have fun together?

Now that’s a mouthful.

Either way, what we aren’t is a real couple, so Aiden has no reason to feel the need to woo me. And even if he were turning on the charm, spewing facts about Boston would be a silly way to do it. I love this city. Not because of the history—the place where the microwave was invented?—yeah, that’s definitely not romantic. Though the idea does make me giggle.

This is just Aiden being Aiden. Who wouldn’t smile at that?

“The waffle stand is on the other side of the park,” he says, interrupting my insane thoughts.

“Great, let’s go order some waffles.”

Despite being convinced that he’s not trying to get me to fall in love with Boston, we spend the next few hours doing very touristy things in my favorite city.

For lunch, he takes me to Sugar Factory, which seems like overkill. “Aiden, we couldn’t possibly need more sugar.”

With a simple shrug, he orders the sugar factory sliders, which come on mini buns in a variety of colors and with a toy.

“Finn is going to love this,” he says, snapping a picture of the yellow duck that sits beside our burgers. Seriously, what are the chances? This ducking family.

He also orders a Cookie Monster milkshake for himself and a Barbie one for me. When our server drops them off at our table, I can’t help but laugh. His is practically Bolts blue, and mine, of course, is pink.

With a grin, he says, “They match our closet.”

After lunch, I feel like I could use a nap, but according to Aiden, we have places to be, so he leads me toward the seaport and straight to a large bus-like vehicle.

I can’t help but chuckle at the sight. A Duck Tour? It’s such a Langfield activity. The tour bus is a military-grade vehicle created during World War II to operate on land and in the water. Here in Boston, the DUKW, which was used on the beaches in Normandy on D-Day, as well as many other locations during the war, is used to bring tourists through the city and then down the Charles River and yes, it quacks.

We sit up front, and about halfway through, Aiden steals the mic from ourguide and serenades the lucky tourists. He lists fact after fact about Boston to the tune of Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start the Fire.”

By the time we hit the Charles River and he’s started on “The Downeaster ‘Alexa,’” the entire group is singing along.

It’s amazing how this man can make even strangers fall in love with him. How the hell do I stand a chance of walking away from this with my heart still intact?

It’s dusk by the time we make it to the park where we met up all those weeks ago. It’s only a few blocks from our apartment. Aiden is now carrying a bag full of several souvenirs he’s purchased throughout the day, including a Boston Duck from the Duck Tour company, which he says he’ll store next to Luigi, who guards the coffee milk in the fridge. I don’t understand that one at all, but I just smile and nod.

As we come upon the crowded carousel, Aiden points to the grassy area where I envisioned his wedding taking place. “Looks like they’re having an outdoor movie night.”

Silently, I take in the scene before me. There’s a large blank screen set up where I imagined the ceremony would take place. Families sit on blankets in the grass, and picnic baskets litter the ground.

I sigh. “God, I always wanted to go to one of these.”

Aiden grabs my hand and tugs me forward.

“Where are you going? We don’t have a blanket.”

Without a word, he guides me to a large blue Bolts blanket spread out on the ground beneath a willow tree. There are lanterns dangling from the branches above, creating a romantic scene.

“Aiden Langfield, what did you do?” I can’t hide the surprise in my voice, and I can’t pretend to be unaffected. Because this? This is just…I have no words.

He drops his bag of souvenirs to the ground and holds out his hand. “Dance with me.”

Butterflies flap wildly in my belly, and my heart pounds so loudI can barely hear the music playing from speakers nearby. Even so, I take his hand and let him pull me close.

“I honestly had no idea they did this. Is it, like, a weekly thing?” I rest my head on his chest as he spins us around our little spot.

“It is now,” Aiden murmurs.