Kiss and Don't Tell(128)

“I am. I think it’s just enough challenge in my life, keeps me busy during the day. Not a lot of time to think.”

“Yeah? What would you be thinking about?”

She makes eye contact with me. “Just . . . you know . . . things.”

She doesn’t have to say it out loud for me to know what she’s talking about. She’s talking about me. Us. I wish I had the luxury of keeping busy, but when I’m not at therapy or lightly working out, I’m sitting at my apartment, thinking of her. Wishing I could be with her.

I pierce my fork through some lettuce and chicken. “I know what you mean. I’ve been thinking about things every day.”

She smiles softly. “Let me guess—the things you’re thinking about are what you’d take if you were stranded on an island, right?” She attempts to lighten the heavy tone and it works.

“Yeah, that’s it,” I answer. “I can’t decide between a machete and a beach towel.”

She chuckles. “Obviously the beach towel for me. I’m not a survivor, I think we know that after getting my car stuck in a ditch, so might as well lay out the beach towel and enjoy the deserted island, hoping some cabana boy stumbles over me.”

“Just like you stumbled into five hockey players?”

She points at me. “Exactly. Hey, maybe I’m the one with all the luck, not you.”

“Nah, I’ve been feeling pretty lucky,” I say, lifting my eyes so she knows I’m talking about her. When she smiles, I know I’ve been really fucking lucky, that’s for damn sure.





“Hey,” Winnie says, answering FaceTime. She’s lying on her bed, stomach against the mattress, and she has some sort of facial mask on her face.

“I like the look. Green is really your color.”

She chuckles and then “vogues” her face. “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?”

The other day, she gave me a tour of her bedroom while we were talking. It’s subtle, sweet, and totally Winnie. The only thing missing in it is me. I wanted to tell her that, but it still felt too soon. Although, I think I’m getting closer. We’ve FaceTimed every day this week, and yesterday, we spoke twice. I can feel my hard work paying off, and that the bond we built is not only still there, but stronger than ever. This has been the right thing to do for us. We really did launch into our relationship very quickly. It felt right at the time, but this time of learning, of listening, has been so helpful.

“Beautiful,” I say, meaning it. “Why the mask, though? Your face is stunning.”

She grins. “Why, thank you, but it’s all about upkeep, Pacey. Start when you’re young is what I say.”

“Think I need some upkeep?”

She shakes her head. “Wrinkles are stupidly dignified on a man.”

My eyes widen. “You think I have wrinkles?”

She laughs, but her mouth barely opens from the restriction of her face mask. “You have laugh lines at the outer corners of your eyes. They’re sexy.”

“Sexy?” I ask. “Tell me more about that.”

She rolls her eyes. “No, I don’t need your ego getting any bigger than it is.”

“Trust me, babe, the ego is barely inflated these days.”

She slowly smiles and then looks away.

“What’s that smile for?” I ask.

She shrugs and then fiddles with her comforter. “Nothing really. You just called me babe, is all.” Her eyes flash to the screen and my pulse picks up. I’m so fucking close; I can feel it. I’m right there. I’m winning her back.

“Should I have called you fart face instead?”

“What?” She roars with laughter. “Oh my God, what is wrong with you?”

I sigh. “Been hanging out with guys way too much lately. I need a feminine touch in my life.”

“Keep FaceTiming me. I’ll help you out.”

And that’s exactly what I wanted to hear.





“You’re cheating,” Winnie says, looking at her game board.

“How am I cheating?”

She looks behind her and then back at the phone. “I don’t know. Are you in cahoots with Max or something?”

“He’s not even in your room.”

“Is there a hidden camera in here?” She looks around her room.

“You’ve been hanging out with Katherine too much. Just admit it, I’m amazing at Guess Who.”

“Never,” she says, chin held high.

I sent her Guess Who in the mail so we could play together, each having our own play sets. Every night we’ve been playing, that and Battleship. It’s simple, but fuck, it’s been the best week of my life . . . since Banff, of course.

“Does your person have glasses?”

“No,” I answer.

“Damn it.”

“Is your person Anita?”

She flips her board and says, “I hate you.”

I laugh out loud and then stretch my hands over my head. “It’s nice to congratulate your opponent.”

Arms crossed over her chest, she asks, “Oh yeah? Is that what you do when you lose? Congratulate your opponents on the ice?”

She’s got me there. “No, because the congrats I’d offer would be a fist to the gut.”