Page 103 of Icebound Hearts
“I’m fucking starving. Let’s go.”
A few days later, I get a call from Modular Talent saying that they’d like to represent me. Thankfully, my meeting with Desiree was basically finished when Violet walked in on us, so I didn’t make a terrible impression when I excused myself quickly to go after Violet. And based on what Desiree said during our interview, I think she could do great things for my career.
I’m not the oldest guy on the ice, but I’m well aware that there will come a day when I won’t be able to play anymore, so I want to make sure my family is well set up for when that happens. I always want Jake to be provided for.
To celebrate the news, I insist on taking Violet and Jake out to dinner—not that there’s any resistance, since Jake loves going out to eat, even though he always orders the same thing off the kids’ menu: grilled cheese, if they have it.
We go to a place that’s upscale but still casual, and where they know me but don’t treat me like a local celebrity, which I like. The hostess seats us at a four-top, with Jake beside me and Violet across from us.
“Grilled cheese,” Jake declares without even bothering to pick up the menu, and Violet and I laugh.
“Decisive,” she teases. “I like that.”
The waitress comes to take our order, and I watch with pride as Jake asks her politely for a grilled cheese. He’s growing upso damn fast, and I find myself clinging to the little moments, determined to savor every one of them.
As we dig into our food, Violet glances across the table at me. “I’m glad Desiree decided to sign you with her agency. I was worried I… might’ve messed things up for you.”
“Nah.” I shake my head, heat stirring in my veins at the reminder of what we did that day. I haven’t been that fucking impulsive since I was in college—but as reckless as it was, I can’t regret it one bit. “You’re my good luck charm, remember? You couldn’t mess anything up.”
She grins, twin spots of color appearing high on her cheeks. “What kinds of stuff will the agency do for you?”
“Commercials, endorsement deals, maybe some speaking engagements. That kind of thing.”
“Are you gonna be on TV, Daddy?” Jake asks, his eyes widening.
“I’m already on TV,” I remind him with a chuckle, holding a hand to my chest as if wounded that he forgot. “Every time I play a game.”
“No, I mean onregularTV,” he clarifies, and I shoot a wry look at Violet.
“At least he keeps me humble.”
She grins, her smile brightening the entire restaurant. “Kids are good at that.”
The banter is easy and light as we continue eating, and Violet and I share small looks across the table from time to time. Ever since that day when I followed her into the elevator, something has shifted between us. The end date on this thing we’re doing hasn’t changed, but I meant what I told her in the elevator. As long as we’re doing this, I’m all hers, and she’s all mine.
And I really, really like that.
Maybe I’m being an idiot, letting myself jump in with both feet to something I know can’t last. Or maybe it’sbecauseI knowit can’t last that I let myself jump in this deep. When I think about it too hard, an ache starts to spread through my chest, so I try not to let myself think about it. Instead, I’m focusing on just enjoying what we have now.
Amazing conversations, fun nights out with Jake, and the kind of sex that could alter a man’s DNA.
As dinner starts to wind down, Jake looks at his plate, where his mostly eaten grilled cheese sandwich sits in front of him. He has a sleepy, full look, but there’s a determined set to his lips as he picks it up.
“You don’t have to finish it, you know,” I remind him. “We can always take the leftovers home with us.”
He looks torn. “But Iwantto. Cheese is probably my favorite food,” he explains to Violet, looking up at her.
She grins fondly. “Oh, you don’t have to tellme, bud. I’ve cooked you enough mac and cheese to know that.”
“What’s your favorite food?” he asks her, and she purses her lips thoughtfully.
“Hmm. That’s a tough one. I have a lot of favorites, but maybe… chocolate covered strawberries.” I make a noise, and she looks over at me, wearing a quizzical expression. “What?”
“Nothing.” I bite back a grin. “That’s just a shockingly conventional pairing for a mad food scientist like yourself.”
She rolls her eyes, throwing a roll at me from the basket on the table. I catch it easily and set it on my empty plate.
“Okay, wise guy.” She cocks her head at me. “What’syourfavorite food?”