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  “Is there a reason you’re still here?” A sense of satisfaction overwhelms me when he jumps at the sound of my voice.

  He stands and faces me. “Where’s Meredith?”

  “You found out what you wanted to know. What else do you need to say to her?” You know, what’s stopping me from punching him one or three times? Why shouldn’t I? I let those thoughts fade and continue talking. “She doesn’t need your apology or anything else you might have to say to her. There’s no reason for you to stay any longer.”

  “I just want to talk to her, pal. Who the hell are you anyway?”

  For some reason, I’m not surprised that he doesn’t know who I am. And who the hell says pal? “I’m Noah Ramsey, Meredith’s boyfriend and a professional hockey player, which means I occasionally get into fights to spice things up.”

  What’s even funnier than what I said is that Vance actually pales. Holding in my laugh is difficult, but I manage.

  “Why are you still here?” We turn at Meredith’s question. She’s standing at the opening of the hallway with Leo against her chest.

  “I just—”

  “He’s just leaving,” I say over him, grabbing his shoulder and guiding him toward the door. Lucky for him, he doesn’t protest. After closing the door behind him, I turn to Meredith to find her sitting on the couch. “How did he find the apartment?” I ask.

  “He found out where I worked and Erica told him how to find me.”

  “What?” I’m certain giving out personal information like that has to be against policy. Regardless, it pisses me off.

  Mere shrugs as I sit next to her, causing Leo to hop over into my lap. “I’m just glad he’s gone.” She rests her head on my shoulder and holds my hand, her fingers biting into my skin. “Are you sure we’re okay, Noah?”

  “We’re okay,” I confirm.

  Her fingers relax just a bit. “Good.” We sit like that for a bit. Quietly. Lost in our own thoughts. “He was mean when we broke up,” she begins quietly. “He told me I was pathetic for being so lost without my job and in the same breath said I was worthless without it. He wanted us to be some kind of tennis power couple or something. I missed my period the month I started PT, but I thought it was just because I was so stressed. Then, when I missed it again, I took a test and found out I was pregnant three days after we broke up. He was convinced I was using it to get back together and trap him into a marriage with me. I even tried to tell him I didn’t want to marry him, but he didn’t believe me. So, I left. Went home.” The tears start all over again.

  “I was trying to figure out what I was going to do with my life and the one I had inside me. I needed to do that before I told anyone else. Part of me was sure my parents would be disappointed in me. I had a broken engagement, was pregnant, and didn’t have a job. My plan was gone, and I needed to come up with a new one. I had gotten used to the idea of being a mom and had started thinking about how I was going to do this on my own. I was about to start my second trimester when it happened. After that, I was so heartbroken. I just couldn’t make myself tell them what happened. I was even home for a month before I let anyone know I was there.

  “Then, Mom knew the engagement was off simply because I was home and refused to say anything about it. I eventually got stir crazy and maybe a little crazy from reexamining my life, which led me to decide to find you. That’s what I would’ve told you if Vance hadn’t shown up. I knew I needed to tell you when you showed me the ring. I...” The word dies in her throat. “I was due this month, Noah,” she whispers.

  I lift our hands and kiss her knuckles. So much of what she said now makes sense. “You can lean on me, Mere,” I say quietly, remembering how she said she didn’t have anyone to lean on during the worst time of her life.

  “Thank you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Does our future still look the same?” she tentatively asks.

  “Absolutely. We’re getting married this summer. Don’t worry; I’ll ask you at some point, and we’ll buy a house. One day, that house will be full with as many kids as you want.” My number one priority is her happiness. If she wants those things too, then I’ll give them to her.

  Meredith takes a shaky breath and lifts her head to look at me. “How many kids are you hoping for?”

  “I want my own hockey team.”

  Mere laughs; I said the right thing. “Pick another answer,” she tells me.

  “Fine. Six. That gives me three forwards, two defensemen, and a goalie.”

  She leans away from me like she can’t help but fall over, holds her stomach, and giggles. To see her laughing, knowing what she’s been through in the past year and knowing she’s mine, it’s like a damn miracle. I grab her elbow and tug her to me for a kiss. The giggles cease, but the smile stays. “Six? Really?”

  “What did I tell you while I was getting the tattoo?” I ask.

  Her smile fades a bit as she remembers, but it’s still there. “That you would be okay with only my name on your body for the rest of your life, but you hoped to add the names of our kids one day, whether it was one kid or six. You said the most important of all was having me,” she recalls quietly. “I had forgotten that.”

  “It’s true to this day and always will be, Mere.”

  She slips her arms around me in a hug, resting her head on my shoulder again. “I love you.”

  “I love you more.”

  The rest of morning is spent lounging on the couch and playing with Leo. Meredith’s only additional comments about what happened is that the only reason Vance put forth the effort of calling her most likely has to do with shutting his new wife up rather than a guilty conscience or actually wanting something to do with the baby who would’ve been born this month.

  When I leave to drive to the rink for the game tonight, I call Hope.

  “Noah, how are you doing?” she asks when she answers.

  “Good. I don’t really have much time, but I wanted to call you real quick.”

  “Okay,” she says warily. “What’s going on?”

  “I can’t tell you more than what I’m about to, and the only reason I’m calling is to ease your worries, so please don’t ask me anything. Can you do that?”

  “Is this about Meredith?”

  “Yes.”

  There’s no hesitation. “I can do that.”

  “She’s told me everything. She’s talked to me. You don’t have to worry so much about her.”

  A moment of silence and then, “She’s okay?”

  “She’s okay. I think she’s going to share with you and Harold, but I can’t say when she’ll be ready for that.”

  Hope’s sigh is full of relief. “Thank you, Noah.”

  “No thanks needed. Oh, and one more thing. I haven’t asked yet, but we’re planning to get married this summer. I figured you’d want to know, so you can get her to start planning the wedding she wants.”

  “You want us to plan a wedding when you haven’t proposed?”

  “Yes,” I answer simply.

  “And Meredith knows about this?”

  “She knows my plan, yeah.”

  “Well, okay.”

  I talk to her for a few more minutes before hanging up. It’s not my place to explain to her parents what happened, but I wanted to let her know she can stop worrying about her one and only daughter. The hardest hurdle for Meredith was talking about it. She’s done that. Meredith isn’t as lost as she was when she first came here. She’s found a new passion, she’s with me, and she’s tackling her past so she can move forward.

  She’s close to being back to normal. That’s all I want.

  “Why are we here?” Meredith asks when I pull into a parking lot the next evening.

  “Because it’s Halloween and I forgot to tell you sooner. We need to find costumes for Brayden’s party. We have an hour, so let’s get this done.”

  “An hour? Why didn’t we do this when you got back from the arena?”

  I turn my head to raise an eye
brow at her as I pull the key from the ignition. That’s all the response I need. Her cheeks turn a little pink as she remembers how she attacked me the moment I walked into the door. She did the same thing last night when I got home from the game. I’m not complaining one bit either.

  “Right, well, ah, let’s go.” She opens the door and gets out, so I follow after her. Mere takes my hand when we meet at the back of my SUV, and we walk into the Halloween store. “Are we matching?” she asks.

  “I don’t care.”

  “What kind of party is this?”

  “It’s just a party,” I reply, not sure what she means.

  “Are we going for something fun? Something sexy? Something simple? What?”

  “Sexy, definitely sexy.” I want to show her off. Unfortunately, my answer makes Meredith picky. For thirty minutes, I follow her as she shifts through the clothes hanging on racks. “You need to hurry up,” I repeat what I’ve been saying since we hit the fifteen-minute mark.

  “Say that one more time, Noah,” she says without even looking at me. “I’m trying these on.” She holds up four costumes. I follow her to the dressing room, and since there isn’t enough room for the both of us, I’m left sitting outside in a chair.

  The store is busy, appearing as if we weren’t the only ones waiting until the last minute to get our costumes. The problem is there isn’t an awful lot to choose from due to waiting.

  “Noah?”

  I stand at the sound of her voice and move closer to the door that separates us. “Yeah?”

  “If we’re matching, then you need to find a sailor’s costume. I’ll find you once I get dressed again.”

  “Okay.” I leave her to see if I can find the costume. Because I don’t feel like doing the search myself, when a salesperson asks if I need help, I ask if they have one. According to her, I’m in luck. There’s one left and it’s in my size.

  “Good,” Meredith says, appearing next to me, “you found one. Let’s pay and get out of here, so I can get ready for this thing.”

  She’s holding an entire outfit in her hands. I’m tempted to ask if I can see it, but knowing it can take her forever to get ready, I decide against it. I’ll see it soon enough. When we get home, Mere orders me to shower in the guest bathroom, be sure to take Leo for a walk, and to be ready when she is. It’s funny how I need to be ready to go when she is when I’m going to be ready way before her. That’s why she wants me to make sure Leo uses the bathroom before we leave. I’m the only one who’s going to have time to do it.

  As expected, I’m ready in no time. It’s a little odd to walk Leo in my costume, and I’m relieved when no one sees me. I’m surprised when I walk back into my apartment to see that Meredith is ready. All I can do is stare, though. She’s wearing fishnet stockings that stop mid-thigh, blue heels, and a blue dress that flares like there’s a tutu underneath it at the bottom. Her legs look amazing, her cleavage is to die for, and I’m second-guessing this whole wear-something-sexy-so-I-can-show-you-off idea.

  She looks too good, if that’s possible.

  Leo runs over to her, so I drop his leash before he runs too far and gets yanked back. Meredith smiles and leans over. I groan. She just flashed me with a spectacular view of her ass.

  “You can’t wear that.”

  She turns around as she picks Leo up and unhooks him from his leash. “Why not?”

  “You’re too hot and if you’re going to flash someone, it should be me and only me.”

  Mere rolls her eyes. “It’s not like I’m going to bend over like that at the party, Noah. I know the dress is too short for that. Besides, you can’t tell me what to wear or to not wear. Get over it.” She flashes me a grin before walking over to Leo’s crate. She moved it while I was gone. Now, it sits in the living room where he has a view of the door and so he can watch TV. Yeah. She turns on the TV to a kids channel and lets him watch cartoons while no one is home. Leo curls up on a small pillow she put in there and goes right to sleep. Meredith walks over to me, her heels clicking on the floor, and takes my hand. “Let’s go.”

  With a hand on her lower back, I pull her against me. “We have some time.”

  “No.” Her hands are firm on my chest. “I took time to put myself together, you’re not about to undo it before the party. You can do whatever you want to me when we get back.”

  “Whatever I want?” I ask.

  She nods. I nudge her out the door and lock up. The sooner we go, the sooner we can leave and I get to do whatever I want.

  Last year, this party was a ton of fun. Kids aren’t allowed, so those with kids get their activities done, drop them off with a babysitter, and then come to the party. I’m excited to be able to do something with Mere. We’ve been on one date since she came to North Carolina, and that shouldn’t really count. It was only lunch and showing her the practice facility.

  The party is already in full swing when we get there. Because friends of friends can also be invited, Brayden has to host it at a banquet hall. Plus, he didn’t like the mess that was left at his house last year. This way, he doesn’t have to worry about anything but showing up and paying people to do their jobs.

  “Meredith!”

  That’s all the warning we get as a mostly naked man runs up to my girlfriend, lifts her up, and twirls her around before planting a kiss on her cheek. Meredith is laughing as Marc sets her down, but I’m glowering. He does that shit on purpose. He slings an arm around her shoulders and grins at me.

  “What the hell are you?” I ask. He’s in a Speedo that’s the Canadian flag and there’s a medal hanging around his neck.

  “Obviously, he’s an Olympic gold medalist swimmer from Canada,” Meredith answers.

  Marc nods. “Yep. Plus, this is a great excuse to wear my Speedo. Yo, EJ!” Marc waves down the guy as he’s walking by with some girl.

  “What?” he asks.

  “Take a picture of us.” Marc picks up his cell from the table nearby and tosses it to EJ.

  Meredith reaches out to grab my hand and pulls me in next to her. She’s in the middle with a man on each side. When EJ shows us the picture he took, she’s grinning the widest.

  “What sort of caption should I use when I post this on your Instagram?” he asks me.

  “My what?”

  “Instagram; you know, the social media site where you post photos. I created one for you.”

  “You did what?” I ask as Meredith says, “Oh! Let me see.”

  Once Marc has posted the photo of the three of us, I look over Meredith’s shoulder as she goes through the photos Marc has posted. What the hell? Half of the time, I didn’t even know he was taking the photo.

  “Aw, it’s like he’s your stalker,” Meredith tells me. “Do people know it’s you posting for him?” she asks Marc.

  “Only when the captions are making fun of him.”

  “Why do I have Instaspam?”

  “It’s Instagram,” they both correct me.

  “Whatever,” I mutter.

  “Because fans like to see what their favorite players do off the ice. Granted, I started it to make fun of you without you knowing, but then the team had to tweet about you being on it, so I had to straighten up a little bit since people think it’s you posting directly and not me.”

  “Delete it.”

  “No, don’t do that, Marc. He’s right, you know,” she says, turning to me. “It’s good to have. Marc can give me the email and password he used. I can help and monitor his posts. You know you can trust me with it.”

  “Are you saying I’m not trustworthy?” Marc asks, pouting and holding a hand over his heart.

  “Yes,” we both answer.

  “Oh, Meredith, you wound me. Here I thought we were tight. I’m going to have to get drunk now.”

  “You’ll be okay.” She pats him on the shoulder. “Text Noah the login info.”

  “We need drinks.” I grab her hand and pull her to one of the many mini-bars set up around the room.

  “What�
��s so wrong with having social media?” she asks after we order.

  “I don’t care for it, and I don’t have anything to say.”

  “You have always been a bit on the anti-internet side. It is a good thing to have, though.”

  “What’s the point of having it? No one cares what I do.”

  “Your fans do. Lots of sports fans want to know what their favorite players do away from the game.”

  “Yeah, and I don’t do much. I’m with you, out with the guys, or at home in Pittsburgh during the summer.”

  “And people want to see you with your girlfriend, out with the guys, and see the world through your eyes. You’re keeping it. Marc can post for you when it’s work stuff or on road trips, and I’ll cover it when you’re with me.”

  “Do you have one?” I ask.

  She gets quiet. “Haven’t posted anything since my injury.”

  I nudge her elbow with mine. “Your fans want to know you’re okay, too, Mere.” She shrugs, glancing away. “Let’s take a picture of ourselves. You can post it on your Insty thing.” She looks like she’s about to object, so I add, “You have a lot of young fans, right? Don’t you think they want to know that there’s more to life than tennis? Or that there’s a happy life without it?”

  “Maybe.” She glances down at herself. “But this isn’t exactly a young-girl friendly outfit.”

  Marc is walking over to us, so I take Meredith’s phone from my pocket and hand it to him. “She’s going to post one of us on her own. Take it for us, yeah?” Before she can protest, I stand behind her, wrap one arm low on her waist and the other over her chest with my hand on her shoulder, conveniently covering up her cleavage. I rest my chin on my hand and my head against hers.

  “Say ‘boner,’” Marc says, making Meredith laugh, which makes me smile. He takes the picture and returns the phone to her. “It’s good. Should definitely post it.”

  Meredith glances at me, and I nod. It is a good picture. She should post it. One of these days, I’m going to get through to her that just because she isn’t playing tennis doesn’t mean that she can’t associate with it anymore. That shit is in her head because of Vance. It’s not an all-or-nothing situation. She should know that already since she’s an assistant coach and will hopefully start offering private lessons, but it’s not connecting with her for some reason. She’s still insisting that she can make a comeback.