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“Great,” I say, having never kayaked before.
“I love kayaking,” Nila comments, and I can’t hide my surprise. “My grandpa used to take me years ago.”
“Well then.” Tina smiles. “Hopefully, it’ll bring you joy as you make new memories.”
Nila nods eagerly. “I hope so.”
“Have a nice hike,” Tina says before moving on to the next group.
“We really should get to know the others,” Nila comments as soon as we start down the trail. “I think it would be beneficial.”
“Why?” I ask as my hiking boots crunch on the rocky path. “They’re probably already judging me for everything.”
“You act like everyone follows hockey.” Nila shakes her head and steps out in front of me. She’s wearing a pair of tight leggings. It’s the biggest distraction ever and brings back the memory of the bathroom this morning.
Jeez. She’s so hot.
I’m not usually the kind of guy who checks out women, but the memory of Nila in just a bra and tight shorts had been impossible to ignore. Her curves are jaw-droppingly perfect, and the sight of her bare skin is forever burned into my brain.
“Have you ever gone hiking before?” She glances back over her shoulder at me, and I rip my eyes from her legs, feeling embarrassed.
“I used to hike with my parents,” I answer. “They loved the outdoors.”
“My grandparents did too. We used to go camping all the time in their RV. It’s a cheap way to take vacation.”
“I thought you grew up in New York City.”
She shakes her head. “It was Upstate New York. I moved to NYC for college.”
“So, you must like it there then?” Something in me stirs as I think about the distance between Atlanta and New York City.
I don’t even know why I’m measuring it, though.
“I like New York City, yeah.” She pulls out her water bottle. “But I don’t have the same attachment to it that I used to. It doesn’t necessarily feel like home.”
I nod. “I get that.” My eyes drift past her, taking in the tall trees and blue skies. The air is crisp and fresh.
Maybe I’ll vacation in the mountains more.
“So, are you from Atlanta?” Nila’s question brings my eyes back to her, and I trot to catch up, falling in step beside her on the wide trail.
“I’m not, no,” I tell her, catching a hint of her perfume. “I actually grew up in Missouri. It wasn’t until I started playing for the Glaciers that I moved to Atlanta.”
“Oh, did your dad follow you there, then?”
“Yep. My dad moved to Atlanta to be closer to me. We still have our estate in Missouri, though.”
She nods, stealing a glance at me. “That must be nice.”
“It is. I guess that’s considered home for me.”
“I don’t really have a place I’d consider to be home anymore...”
Her comment makes my heart sink.
I meet her gaze and see the loneliness in the hues of her green eyes.
It’s clear that Nila carries a weight of her own. I want to ask her about it, to dig deeper, but I’m not sure how to approach the subject. Instead, I decide to keep things light for now.
