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She obviously didn’t like that answer.
“I kept picturing my parents’ faces, getting the same news about me that I had to deliver about Sara. I…” She sighed. “I don’t know. I think I’ve spent the last couple of weeks dealing with survivor’s guilt.”
Blake could understand that. “That makes sense in a way.”
“It’s been on my mind a lot, so when that storm hit tonight and Corky broke the leash and ran… Too much bad shit came up, and I lost it. I’m sorry about that, by the way.”
He cupped her face, forcing her to look at him again. “I already told you I didn’t want to hear you apologize. You have nothing to be sorry about.” He kissed her forehead, then her cheek, then gave her a soft kiss on the lips.
Erika didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, which felt like progress.
When they pulled apart, she smiled, one that was devoid of the same lingering sadness he’d seen in her expression all night.
“Thank you for telling me that story.”
“Thank you for listening. I don’t know why I never told you before. I guess…even after all these years, I’m still ashamed of my behavior.”
Blake grinned. “You were fourteen years old. That’s when we all do stupid shit designed to make our parents crazy.”
He felt some of the tension leave her body. “Bet you gave your mom a run for her money.”
“You know I did,” he said, his tone pure bragging. He spent the next ten minutes filling her in on his teenage exploits, his stories cracking her up as she finally turned the corner on her fears and anguish for good.
“You know,” Erika said. “You’ve never told me why you decided to pursue hockey.”
“Oh, that’s an easy one. Because of my stepdad.”
She looked at him, clearly waiting for him to expound.
“That’s it? Not much of a storyteller, are you?” she teased.
Blake grinned. “You know my dad split when I was three.” He and Erika had discussed childhoods near the beginning of their friendship, so she knew his dad had an affair with a coworker and decided to dump family number one to start family number two. Maybe Blake would have been bitter about that if he hadn’t had the world’s greatest mom and stepdad. Mom had never let him feel the absence of his dad, taking on both roles with ease. When he told her he wanted to play hockey—because his best friend in second grade did—she signed him up, bought the equipment, and started watching the sport in an attempt to understand it.
“I know about your dad leaving,” Erika confirmed.
“When I started playing hockey, Alan was my first coach. That’s how he and my mom met. He knew she was a single mom with very little knowledge of the sport, so he spent extra time helping me, teaching me the basics along with Todd, who was also on the team. I was hooked on the sport from day one, and Alan was my biggest cheerleader. He said he knew right from the start that I had the talent to play professionally. He encouraged me without pushing, always patiently guiding without putting any pressure on me, if that makes sense. I still go to him if I find myself struggling with some part of my game. I’ve had countless hockey coaches in my life, but he’s been the best.”
“I’ve always liked Alan,” Erika confessed, “but now, I think I love him. I’m so glad you had him in your life.”
“Me too. Because I’m sure that without him, I wouldn’t be where I am today. He set me on the path to the best life ever.”
Erika smiled. “So cool.”
Then Blake said something he’d never admitted aloud. “I hope I can be as good a father to my kids as he was to me and my brothers.”
“Kids?” Erika tilted her head. “I’m not sure I’ve ever heard you say you want kids.”
He gave her a serious look. “Of course I do.” What he didn’t add was that he wanted them with her, wanted to see her belly grow round as she carried his son or daughter. God willing, they’d have one of each.
She raised one eyebrow. “Well, you might want to reconsider your timeframe for acquiring a ball and chain, otherwise people are going to think you’re the grandfather when you go to all the school functions.”
Blake ruffled her hair playfully. “I’ll take that under advisement.”
Erika covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hide a yawn. “I should probably go home.”
He shook his head. “Nope. We’re having a sleepover.”
“Aren’t we a little old for slumber parties?”
