then shakes her head. “I’m getting dressed. Only because I can tell you royally messed something up if you’re trying to convince me we had a breakfast planned, when I know you really want to be with the guy you’re falling for.”
I bristle at her words, then try to shrug them off. “Time’s a-ticking for scones, Ems.”
A little later, we grab a table at a café near her flat, and I open the menu. I scan the items, reading each one carefully, letting eggs and toast and sausages and tea and Emma totally take my mind off the man I can’t let myself think about. His eyes, his sarcasm, his laugh . . .
Shake it off.
I study the menu harder, like I can memorize it.
There. Eggs.
Perfect. I look up.
Emma parts her lips, about to say something, when the server swings by. We place our orders, then I fire off questions at Emma.
“So, you ready for your program to start? How’s the flat? Do you need anything? Want to swing by the store?” I snap my fingers. “Hey, should we go to the Tower of London today?”
She holds up her hand as a stop sign. “James.”
“Fine. We can go to the National Gallery.” I flash my best supportive-brother smile. “How about the Tate too?”
Adamant, she shakes her head. “How about we start this impromptu bonding session with you telling me why you are hiding from the fact that you’re falling in love?”
My heart lurches.
It kicks and screams.
It flings itself to the ground in an epic temper tantrum.
Then, it stops, goes quiet, as emotion clogs my throat. I swallow it down, drag a hand through my hair, then cover my face. “I’m so fucked, Ems. I’m so fucked.”
She moves next to me, sets her hand on my back, and rests her cheek on my shoulder. “Why are you running? That’s what you’re doing, James. You know that, right? You don’t need me. You need to figure out what’s going on in here.” She taps my heart.
I look up, feeling nothing but misery and not trying to hide it from her. “Because he lives here, and I live there, and that’s not going to change. I have a job in the NHL. I can’t and I won’t give it up. And he has a life here, a family here, a business, friends, a loan. Everything. This is his home.” I gesture wildly to whatever direction Dean lives in. “We don’t work. We can’t work. It’s not possible.”
She nods, smiling sadly. “Can’t you try long-distance?”
I shake my head. “No. I can’t. I barely get time off during the season. We play three games a week. We travel constantly. He works weekends. Hell, he works six days a week. This was a huge exception for him to take off two days to be with me.”
She scoffs. “Why are you with me, then?”
I grab her arm, desperation wracking my body. “Because I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to be with him and not tell him I’m absolutely fucking crazy about him.”
She hauls me in for another hug and ruffles my hair. “You’re such an idiot. He’s so obviously crazy about you too.”
My heart slams against my chest. “Yeah?”
“Yes, and you’re stupid if you can’t see it.”
For a few seconds, a sliver of happiness sneaks under my skin. I didn’t think I was alone on this slippery slope. I had a strong feeling he’d been sliding along with me.
But even if he feels the same way I feel, that doesn’t change the almost four thousand miles between us.
“I don’t want a long-distance thing. I want to see him and touch him and be with him. That’s how messed up this is.”
She takes a beat. “I don’t know how you solve it either. But I know how you don’t.”
“What’s that?”
“By being here with me. You should be with him. Talk to him. Tell him what you told me.”
“I don’t want to scare him away.”
“You already ran, James. Go see your man.”
My stomach rumbles. “I’m kind of hungry though.”
She rolls her eyes. “You don’t deserve breakfast. Go fix this. Now. You have one more day with Dean.”
I stand, open my wallet, hand her some bills, then drop a big kiss on her forehead. “I love you.”
“I know. And I love you slightly more than I did before because now I have breakfast for my lunch.”
The second I leave the café, I call Dean.
But he doesn’t answer.
30
Dean
“It’s mad if you think about all the people that