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He laughs and kisses me again. “Believe me, if I could I’d keep you in my bed for days.”
A delicious shiver runs through me at the thought. “Promises, promises.”
“One day,” Magnus murmurs against my lips, “we’ll take a long vacation and I’ll show you exactly what I mean.”
My heart flutters in my chest. Entire days with Magnus, free to explore this thing between us without worrying about the rest of the world. I can’t wait.
After cleaning up and getting dressed, Magnus walks me to my car. We linger into another kiss before I get in, already counting the hours until I see him again.
“Thank you for tonight,” I say. “I had a really great time.”
“So did I.” Magnus smiles, brushing the baby hairs on my forehead. “I’m glad you came to the game. It meant a lot, sharing that part of my life with you.”
Magnus kisses me once more, soft and sweet. “Good night, Sandra.”
“Good night.” I watch until he disappears into the night before starting my car, warmth blooming in my chest.
Four
Magnus
Caleb fucking Malone, my former teammate, struts into my office, all furrowed scowl and brawn. At the sight of him, memories flood back. The countless hours we spent together on the ice, working our asses off. Blowing off steam afterwards, chasing skirt and partying.
“Gunner, you son of a bitch!” He pulls me into a rough hug, pounding my back.
“Cal.” I squeeze him tight. “What the hell are you doing here, you asshole?”
“I’m putting the band back together, man.” He claps my shoulder. “We had magic, you , me and the guys. Fans went wild every time we hit the ice.”
“Yeah, the good ole days,” I say with a wistful smile. Those years were the best and worst of my life, filled with triumph but also so much work, physical pain and solitude, even surrounded by crowds of fans and puck bunnies. Away from my family, always on the road, without any meaningful relationship other than my teammates friendship.
Caleb perches on the edge of my desk, eyes intent. “You know you miss the action. The cheers of the crowd. The thrill of the chase.” He nods at the photos on my wall, frozen moments of our glory days. “This shit isn’t for you isn’t for you.” He sweeps his huge hand pointing at my laptop and desk.
An ache tingles in my chest as I remember the rush of the game. The roar of the fans still echoes in my dreams.
“One season. You come coach with us. See if you like it.” My mouth falls open. Cal coaches the world champions. And he wants me on the coaching staff? Fuck.
Caleb’s voice is low and rough, a promise of passion, fame, and more wealth. “For old time’s sake, Mag.”
His words ignite a fire in my blood, and I’m twenty-three again with the world at my feet. But then I think of Sandra, the woman who has breathed new life into my world. The joy we’ve found together, our consuming passion.
I rake a hand through my hair, torn. Could it work? Being on the road, the long hours, constant travel, weeks apart, the emotional and physical toll of competition at that level, even only as staff. Do I even want that?
Caleb studies me with a knowing look, reading my inner turmoil. He knows me too well.
I clear my throat, grasping for words. “It’s not that simple, brother. I have responsibilities here I can’t walk away from.”
“Come on, Gunns. You can’t tell me coaching a college team and playing house is enough for you.” Caleb shakes his head. “You’re meant for so much more than small town life. I fucking know how talented you are.”
I think of Sandra’s smile and the peace I’ve found in her arms, our passion, the laughter and endless conversations.
“I’m exactly where I’m meant to be, Caleb.” My voice is firm, conviction steeling my resolve. “I didn’t really have a choice to leave the ice, but that life no longer fits me.”
Cal studies me, a flicker of understanding softening his hard gaze. “Okay, brother.” He sighs, resignation etched into the lines of his rugged face.
A smile tugs at my lips as I think of Sandra, warmth flooding my chest. I know without a doubt I made the right decision. I clap Caleb on the back, pride in my voice. “One day you’ll get it, Cal. For now, just make me proud out there.”
Caleb grins one of his rare smiles. “Always, Gunns. It’s us against the world, right?” He repeats our old motto.
