Chapter 27

TWENTY-SEVEN

Anders

Saying goodbye on Sunday is much harder than I’d expected. I’d known I would miss her, but she and Hana had a tearful goodbye at breakfast that brought the reality of the next month or so to the forefront.

And now it’s our turn.

Hana isn’t leaving until tomorrow, so we planned an early breakfast at Johan and Sloane’s house, which had been fun up until the end when the girls all started to cry. I wasn’t teary, but it was a stark reminder that Claudia and I were saying a similar goodbye in a few hours. I told myself I had to be strong, because I figured she’d cry, but I hadn’t been expecting a visceral reaction to her tears.

I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight to my chest. “Shh. Don’t cry. It’s only twenty-six days.”

“That’s twenty-five too many!”

“I know, baby, but you’re going to be busy with work and I’ll be traveling a lot anyway, so even if you lived here, we’d only see each other about half those days.”

“I’m sorry I’m being a big baby.”

“Don’t be sorry.” I press soft kisses on her hair, her temple, the side of her face. In a selfish, macho way, her tears kind of make me happy because it means she’s going to miss me just as much as I’m going to miss her. I know that’s kind of a dickish thing to feel, and I hate seeing her cry, but it gives me hope for our future.

It’s early days, but what I feel for her is too strong to assume it’s going to burn out. We have something special, something that makes me realize I’m ready to settle down. And I’ve never felt that way about anyone before. I’ve never had trouble being faithful to a woman I was involved with, but this goes way beyond monogamy. She’s exactly the kind of woman I can envision spending the rest of my life with, and I’m already mentally making plans for us.

The road trip to Philly.

Thanksgiving.

Christmas.

Going somewhere for the All-Star break.

Moving in together.

I’m getting way ahead of myself, but I can’t seem to help it.

There will be a lot of logistics to sort through for us to be together, but I’m determined to work through them if she’s willing.

Unfortunately, this four-week separation will be the first hurdle.

After that, it will hopefully get easier.

She’s checked in her bag, but hasn’t yet gone through security, and we’re rapidly running out of time. I don’t want to remind her she has to go, but I know she’ll be upset if she has to call out on her first day of work because I made her miss her flight.

“It’s time, baby.”

“I know.” She lifts her head and digs a tissue out of her pocket, dabbing her eyes.

“Twenty-six days,” I repeat, lifting her chin and forcing her to look at me.

“And then it’s only a few days,” she says miserably.

“Yes, but I looked at the schedule and we have two full days off for Thanksgiving, so if you wanted me to, I could come to Philly and then meet the team in Minnesota on Friday. That’s a travel day so I wouldn’t necessarily need to travel with the team.”

Her face brightens. “That sounds awesome.”

“And remember, that’s late November, and by mid-December, you’ll be done with you probation and can potentially come down to Florida for extended periods of time.”

“I know.” She takes a breath. “I’m sorry. I’m getting my period so I’m probably a little more emotional than usual.”

“If I wasn’t a rough-and-tough hockey player with a reputation to uphold, I’d probably be crying too.”

That makes her smile.

“There. That’s the face I want to remember until we’re together again.” I lean down to kiss her and our mouths fuse together hungrily, despite standing in the middle of the departure area of Fort Lauderdale airport.

“Don’t get me worked up,” she whispers, her face flushed when we pull apart.

“I want you totally worked up,” I say gruffly. “So you’ll think about how this feels until we’re together again.”

“Like I could forget?”

I brush the back of my fingers across her cheek.

There’s so much I want to say.

So much I want to do with her, share with her… teach her.

But we both have responsibilities.

And four weeks is nothing in the grand scheme of things. The time will fly by, especially for her, even though she probably doesn’t think so yet.

But she looks like she might cry again, so it’s time to man up.

“You don’t want to miss your flight,” I say quietly. “Go, sweetheart. It’s not going to get any easier.”

“I know.” She lifts her chin. “I’m probably going to text you on the flight.”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Our eyes meet and lock.

That ever-present spark sizzles brighter than ever, and I can’t resist kissing her one more time. Our tongues meet in a frenzy, both of us acutely aware that four weeks of not touching will undoubtedly feel like a lifetime. No matter how busy we are.

It’s the last thing I want to do, but I pull away.

“Text me when you’re on the plane,” I say gruffly. “It’ll probably take me that long to get home.”

“And I’ll call you when I land.”

“Your mom is picking you up, right?” I ask. “Because if not, I’ll get you a car.”

“My mom will be there. Don’t worry.”

She smiles.

Then she takes a tentative step back. “Thank you for…everything. It was probably the best vacation I’ve ever had.”

“It was a great week,” I agree.

It’s so fucking hard to say goodbye, so I opt not to.

“The security line is getting longer,” I say instead.

She nods, her eyes never leaving mine as she presses three fingers to her lips, kissing them and then blowing the kiss in my direction.

I reach up a hand to catch it.

And press it against my chest.