Page 54 of The Hard Hitter

“Why do you think you ruin all relationships?” I ask.

She stirs beside me, the question obviously catching her by surprise. “I’m not good with relationships, Zander.”

“Tell me what happened.”

A long pause, and then, “The first guy I dated… Well, I thought I loved him. I was young and stupid. I blurted it out one night, and that was the last I saw of him. I have a problem with my mouth, obviously.”

I touch her lips, run my thumb over them. “Not as far as I can see,” I say.

“The second guy I was serious with said I studied too hard, and I hadn’t paid him enough attention. I never could get the whole work/life balance thing figured out, so in the end, I opted for work.”

“You do realize this isn’t on you, Sam. You were being honest and open, and those guys were chickenshits, simple as that. And as far as work/life balance, maybe the asshole should have been supporting you, and helping make things easier so you could pass your exams and step into the career you were chasing. Instead, he acted like a spoiled prick.” I tamp down the anger. “None of this is on you, and there is someone out there for you. Someone who will give you the baby you want, and will listen to what you need.”

She nods her head and looks off into the distance, like she’s really contemplating that. I hear the faint ding of the doorbell.

“Looks like our food is here.”

“Have we been out here that long?”

“Time flies when you’re having fun.” I climb from the hot tub, tug on my jeans, and grab my wallet f

rom the back pocket as I make my way to the foyer. Garlicy smells of bread and pasta fill the entranceway when I pull open the door.

The driver hands over the food. I paid with my card over the phone, but reach into my wallet to give him a generous tip.

“Hey, thanks, man,” he says, then stands there for a moment. “Would you…uh…mind if I got a picture with you.”

“Not at all.”

The kid grabs his phone, and I smile as he takes a selfie of us. His grin is ear to ear as he shoves his phone back into his pocket. “The guys are going to lose their shit when I show them this.”

He darts back to his car, and I shake my head as I close the door and turn to find Sam watching me from the kitchen, wrapped in nothing but a towel.

“That was nice of you.”

I shrug. “It was nothing.”

“You just made his day. Probably his year.”

“Happy to do it.” I walk to the kitchen and start pulling containers from the bag.

“It really is nothing to you, is it?” she says.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re famous, Zander. People throw themselves at you, go crazy when they see you, and you just take it all in stride.”

“I’m just a guy who made it to the NHL, Sam.”

“With a lot of hard work and practice. Quinn told me how hard you worked. Wait, is that why they call you the Hard Hitter?”

“It’s because I’m a power forward and have a powerful flick.” I mimic the action of shooting the puck.

“You must score a lot.”

I lift my head and grin at her. “I score enough.”

She rolls her eyes and pulls out two plates, very familiar with where things are in my kitchen now. “Are we even talking about hockey anymore?”