one another, the more distant Cannon seemed to become.
By the time he was getting ready to be drafted, Kimberley had decided to go to college to study media and public relations, and they barely saw one another. They’d admitted their love for one another several times and Kimberley had no doubt that Cannon was devoted to her, so when he dumped her, over text of all things, it was like someone had ripped her heart right out of her chest.
To add insult to injury, he’d gotten picked up by a minor team in Chicago and became an overnight sensation the first time he played for the pros, with endless pictures of him with countless women appearing on the blogs. It started only days after they’d broken up, without Cannon giving any more of an explanation than “Guess it wasn’t meant to be,” convincing her that he must have been seeing someone on the side even before.
It wasn’t even the break-up itself so much that hurt her, but the betrayal. He’d been her best friend, her closest confidant, and he hadn’t respected her enough to even give her an explanation? It was a wound she’d been fighting to patch up for years, and even now she wasn’t entirely sure if she’d managed it.
And now she’d been stuck in snowy Idaho with the same man, who sounded like him, who even looked like him, but who could still fill her heart with happiness. It was that which was twisting her into pieces, both the realization that she had to leave before he sucked her in completely, and the fact that leaving him was the last thing she wanted to do.
“What’s with the long face?” a familiar voice called, Slate hopping onto the bleachers next to her. “Isn’t this what you hockey nuts live for?” he asked, spreading a hand over the crowd, twice as large as it had been for the last game.
News had traveled lightning-fast, and Shifter Grove had been packed all of a sudden with hockey tourists heading in to see how the Chicago Bluehawks were doing in their new and rather more rural settings. This time, it felt a bit more like a big game and less like some backwoods local tournament, but Kimberley hadn’t really had the time to enjoy it. Moping around took a lot of energy, after all.
“We do,” she admitted with a weak smile, looking up to see Cannon wave at her from the ice as he sped past. “But my heart isn’t in it today.”
Cannon knew as much as Kimberley did that she would have to go after the game. But she’d gotten the sneaking suspicion that he had something up his sleeve to prevent that. The thought both excited and terrified her all at the same time.
“Listen, I’m heading back to the plane early to set it up. If you’re done with this, I can drive you up there now. You can beat the traffic, as it were,” Slate offered, giving her a tentative look.
Kimberley whipped her face around to look at him. Was this it, the life preserver she’d been looking for? A way to get out of the inevitable teary goodbye, or even worse, going against everything she’d promised herself and staying with Cannon regardless of what had happened between them, which she’d managed to ignore throughout her stay in Idaho? She couldn’t do that to herself. One look at his eyes and she’d be putty in his hands again.
“That… that actually sounds like a great idea,” she said, feeling genuinely relieved as she grabbed her bag. “Let’s go!”
“Right away? Uh, okay!” Slate said, slipping off the seat and ducking his head as he got off the stands and helped Kimberley along, who was now clad in Sabres gear once more, much to the chagrin of both the Shifter Grove and the Seattle fans.
Kimberley paused at the end of the stands, looking out on the ice. The crowd was up on their feet again, screaming their heads off as the Timberwolves went on the offensive, and she could see the very moment that Cannon decided he wouldn’t let the puck get anywhere near their goalie. She couldn’t suppress the little smile that rose to her lips
By the time he was getting ready to be drafted, Kimberley had decided to go to college to study media and public relations, and they barely saw one another. They’d admitted their love for one another several times and Kimberley had no doubt that Cannon was devoted to her, so when he dumped her, over text of all things, it was like someone had ripped her heart right out of her chest.
To add insult to injury, he’d gotten picked up by a minor team in Chicago and became an overnight sensation the first time he played for the pros, with endless pictures of him with countless women appearing on the blogs. It started only days after they’d broken up, without Cannon giving any more of an explanation than “Guess it wasn’t meant to be,” convincing her that he must have been seeing someone on the side even before.
It wasn’t even the break-up itself so much that hurt her, but the betrayal. He’d been her best friend, her closest confidant, and he hadn’t respected her enough to even give her an explanation? It was a wound she’d been fighting to patch up for years, and even now she wasn’t entirely sure if she’d managed it.
And now she’d been stuck in snowy Idaho with the same man, who sounded like him, who even looked like him, but who could still fill her heart with happiness. It was that which was twisting her into pieces, both the realization that she had to leave before he sucked her in completely, and the fact that leaving him was the last thing she wanted to do.
“What’s with the long face?” a familiar voice called, Slate hopping onto the bleachers next to her. “Isn’t this what you hockey nuts live for?” he asked, spreading a hand over the crowd, twice as large as it had been for the last game.
News had traveled lightning-fast, and Shifter Grove had been packed all of a sudden with hockey tourists heading in to see how the Chicago Bluehawks were doing in their new and rather more rural settings. This time, it felt a bit more like a big game and less like some backwoods local tournament, but Kimberley hadn’t really had the time to enjoy it. Moping around took a lot of energy, after all.
“We do,” she admitted with a weak smile, looking up to see Cannon wave at her from the ice as he sped past. “But my heart isn’t in it today.”
Cannon knew as much as Kimberley did that she would have to go after the game. But she’d gotten the sneaking suspicion that he had something up his sleeve to prevent that. The thought both excited and terrified her all at the same time.
“Listen, I’m heading back to the plane early to set it up. If you’re done with this, I can drive you up there now. You can beat the traffic, as it were,” Slate offered, giving her a tentative look.
Kimberley whipped her face around to look at him. Was this it, the life preserver she’d been looking for? A way to get out of the inevitable teary goodbye, or even worse, going against everything she’d promised herself and staying with Cannon regardless of what had happened between them, which she’d managed to ignore throughout her stay in Idaho? She couldn’t do that to herself. One look at his eyes and she’d be putty in his hands again.
“That… that actually sounds like a great idea,” she said, feeling genuinely relieved as she grabbed her bag. “Let’s go!”
“Right away? Uh, okay!” Slate said, slipping off the seat and ducking his head as he got off the stands and helped Kimberley along, who was now clad in Sabres gear once more, much to the chagrin of both the Shifter Grove and the Seattle fans.
Kimberley paused at the end of the stands, looking out on the ice. The crowd was up on their feet again, screaming their heads off as the Timberwolves went on the offensive, and she could see the very moment that Cannon decided he wouldn’t let the puck get anywhere near their goalie. She couldn’t suppress the little smile that rose to her lips
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