with Kimberley again while she got some scoop on the team. It also meant that he wouldn’t have to broach the subject of their past for another day, and a reprieve was exactly what he needed.
“Sure, snowboarding. We’ll find you some of those dainty girl’s boots and you can fall down the mountain like the graceful California girl that you are,” Cannon promised, receiving a quick elbow in the side for it.
“Hey, I’m up in Montreal now. I can snowboard circles around you. Want to bet?”
Incidentally, yes, Cannon did want to bet. Didn’t matter if he won or lost, he’d still be a winner for getting to spend time with his mate.
CHAPTER NINE
Kimberley
Kimberley wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened, but she’d been spending day after day with Cannon now and it had been… good. Better than good, actually. It’d been fantastic and she couldn’t exactly wrap her head around how it could possibly happen.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t aware that the time she’d spent dating the man had been some of the happiest of her life, but Kimberley had been more than sure that being around him now would be nothing but pain. Several times, she’d found herself wanting to reach for her bag and go somewhere, anywhere, where she wouldn’t be in his immediate presence. Where she could smack some sense into herself and remind herself that she was steaming angry at getting tricked into coming to Shifter Grove for a man who was both nothing and everything he claimed to be.
But she hadn’t gone anywhere. And she was still in Shifter Grove.
And worst of all, she was pretty damn sure she’d fallen in love with Cannon Wright all over again.
Her hands balled into fists in her lap as she watched the game with only lukewarm interest, her stomach twisting inside of her. The Timberwolves were no pushovers, but the Shovelers, still a completely ridiculous name and one that had been debated heavily at every meal she’d shared with Cannon or any other team member including Coach himself, were in fighting form. They’d really taken to this grittier way of playing, one that had to remind many of them of how they used to skate when they were kids or teens, when frozen lakes were the only things they could practice on.
Kimberley’s heart really wasn’t in it. She only perked up a little as Cannon passed the puck to Heath and the powerful sniper raced past past the fourth line of the Timberwolves and scored a goal that left the stands cheering with deafening enthusiasm. Kimberley didn’t even get up. She was slouched over with one elbow on her knee, listlessly watching and not noticing a damn thing.
Her bag was packed for good now. She was supposed to leave after the game ended, getting on Slate’s little plane again and heading back to Montreal and away from Cannon. At this point, Kimberley couldn’t even count how many times she’d willed herself to start talking about their past, to finally clear the air, and then she’d choked on her own damn words. It had become so frustrating after the first day that she’d pretty much given up.
The thought of tearing those old wounds open absolutely terrified her. Watching him play now, it all felt so fresh, as if it had only happened yesterday.
He’d been nineteen and she’d been eighteen. They’d known each other for a while through message boards because they were both active in the local leagues, but they only started dating when Kimberley had moved to Cannon’s hometown of Chicago due to her father’s relocation. Karl Thomas was a respected old-hand playmaker himself, who’d played for non-shifter teams in his youth, and had continued his career as a coach specializing in plays.
Everything had been absolutely amazing. They clicked, they could talk for hours and hours, they shared the same passion for hockey, and it soon became evident that they couldn’t keep their hands off of one another. But the deeper the relationship got and the more ravenous they got for
“Sure, snowboarding. We’ll find you some of those dainty girl’s boots and you can fall down the mountain like the graceful California girl that you are,” Cannon promised, receiving a quick elbow in the side for it.
“Hey, I’m up in Montreal now. I can snowboard circles around you. Want to bet?”
Incidentally, yes, Cannon did want to bet. Didn’t matter if he won or lost, he’d still be a winner for getting to spend time with his mate.
CHAPTER NINE
Kimberley
Kimberley wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened, but she’d been spending day after day with Cannon now and it had been… good. Better than good, actually. It’d been fantastic and she couldn’t exactly wrap her head around how it could possibly happen.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t aware that the time she’d spent dating the man had been some of the happiest of her life, but Kimberley had been more than sure that being around him now would be nothing but pain. Several times, she’d found herself wanting to reach for her bag and go somewhere, anywhere, where she wouldn’t be in his immediate presence. Where she could smack some sense into herself and remind herself that she was steaming angry at getting tricked into coming to Shifter Grove for a man who was both nothing and everything he claimed to be.
But she hadn’t gone anywhere. And she was still in Shifter Grove.
And worst of all, she was pretty damn sure she’d fallen in love with Cannon Wright all over again.
Her hands balled into fists in her lap as she watched the game with only lukewarm interest, her stomach twisting inside of her. The Timberwolves were no pushovers, but the Shovelers, still a completely ridiculous name and one that had been debated heavily at every meal she’d shared with Cannon or any other team member including Coach himself, were in fighting form. They’d really taken to this grittier way of playing, one that had to remind many of them of how they used to skate when they were kids or teens, when frozen lakes were the only things they could practice on.
Kimberley’s heart really wasn’t in it. She only perked up a little as Cannon passed the puck to Heath and the powerful sniper raced past past the fourth line of the Timberwolves and scored a goal that left the stands cheering with deafening enthusiasm. Kimberley didn’t even get up. She was slouched over with one elbow on her knee, listlessly watching and not noticing a damn thing.
Her bag was packed for good now. She was supposed to leave after the game ended, getting on Slate’s little plane again and heading back to Montreal and away from Cannon. At this point, Kimberley couldn’t even count how many times she’d willed herself to start talking about their past, to finally clear the air, and then she’d choked on her own damn words. It had become so frustrating after the first day that she’d pretty much given up.
The thought of tearing those old wounds open absolutely terrified her. Watching him play now, it all felt so fresh, as if it had only happened yesterday.
He’d been nineteen and she’d been eighteen. They’d known each other for a while through message boards because they were both active in the local leagues, but they only started dating when Kimberley had moved to Cannon’s hometown of Chicago due to her father’s relocation. Karl Thomas was a respected old-hand playmaker himself, who’d played for non-shifter teams in his youth, and had continued his career as a coach specializing in plays.
Everything had been absolutely amazing. They clicked, they could talk for hours and hours, they shared the same passion for hockey, and it soon became evident that they couldn’t keep their hands off of one another. But the deeper the relationship got and the more ravenous they got for
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