No one called me Gen but my dad. I always corrected anyone who made the mistake of shortening my name, and not very politely. This time I didn’t because Gen sounded so right coming from him, which meant only one thing.

He was wearing me down.

~~Axel~~

One good thing about road trips was being in all the same places as Geneva. This road trip to Colorado was only two nights, and I’d welcomed it.

Coop was true to his word. Before each practice, he drilled the second line like the bastard he was. Then he shouted at us unmercifully during regular practice for being tired and sluggish. Ziggy, our left wing, grumbled about the extra work. Ziggy had always gotten by on raw talent and minimal work; now he was working as hard as anyone on this team, and the extra practice time was cutting into his sleeping and partying. The rest of us ignored his bitching. Coop, on the other hand, rode him extra hard, pushing him to be better.

We won the Colorado game and flew back to Seattle, still in the hunt for a playoff spot and hopeful.

I continued my gift giving to Geneva, including more chocolates, a nice bracelet, and a bottle of wine. We hadn’t talked since the sexiest kiss I’d ever had despite it being relatively chaste. I was biding my time. We had to get through the next week of games and make the playoffs. Hockey had to be my priority right now, and I had too many distractions as it was. Regardless, I wouldn’t turn her down if she said yes, no matter the timing.

Kaden, Easton, Steele, and I had carpooled to the airport, so we piled in and drove home together. We were tired from the late flight, and Coop had us scheduled for morning drills before practice.

Steele went straight to bed, but I hesitated. Kaden was in one of his moods, and I had the distinct feeling he needed a friend. I popped the tops off two beers and handed one to him, plopping on the couch next to him. He glanced over at me, then refocused his attention on the sports channel showing updates from recent games.

“What’s up?” I said, not trying to sound concerned in the fear I might chase him away.

He was quiet for so long I assumed he wasn’t going to answer. I almost jumped out of my skin when he did.

“Have you ever met someone so special you feel as if you won’t ever find another like her, and you’re desperate to hold on to what you have?”

I mulled his question around in my mind and decided to answer with raw honesty. “Yes, I have. And you?”

“I think so. But how weird is it to fall in love with a woman you know zero about? Nothing about her family, where she was born, what she does for a living, not even what her favorite color is.”