Joelle Morrow has her focus set on the future. As an up-and-coming lingerie designer, she's overcome multiple setbacks on the road to achieving her dream of opening her own boutique but has yet to be knocked down, leaving her no time to think about...
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"So, what do you guys think I should do?" I asked as I finished taping the last box of my things shut.
After weeks of crashing in the spare room at Cameron and Isla's house, I'd finally managed to find an apartment of my own with the help of a couple of my teammates. It was only fifteen minutes away from the arena, and since the landlord was letting me move in right away under a month-to-month lease, I would've been a fool to turn it down. Because even though I liked being closer to my brother, we'd shared enough spaces growing up. Now, I needed my privacy, and so did he.
But before I left, I needed advice.
Despite lasting only seconds, I was finding it surprisingly difficult to forget the way Jo's lips had grazed mine the night before. We'd barely kissed, and yet when I'd settled into bed, she'd been there—front and center in my dreams.
Clearly the lack of action I'd gotten over the last couple of months was starting to affect me.
"First?" Cameron grinned wickedly. "Grow a pair of balls and ask the woman out."
Rolling my eyes, I nudged his chair with my foot, causing him to roll back a few inches. "Thanks, genius," I replied with a sarcastic drawl.
Cameron held up his hands. "You asked, man," he said, wheeling himself back to the spot at the kitchen table where he'd set up his laptop.
Turning to Isla, I hoped she'd be more of a help. "What about you? Any words of wisdom for your favorite brother-in-law?"
Her lips quirked upwards, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. That I was her only brother-in-law; which was irrelevant. "It's simple really," she said. "Do you like this woman?"
"Didn't you listen to my whole spiel?" I asked, having just explained the situation between Jo and I to them both. "Of course I like her; I just don't know what to do about it."
In university, I'd started seeing a classmate early on during freshman year. We'd clicked from the moment we met and she'd quickly become a fixture in the stands when I was on the ice. What I hadn't realized, however, was the effect hockey would have on the relationship. The more I played, the more focused I'd become with getting better. I'd started missing dates—not valuing the time we had together like I should've—yet was still surprised when she'd told me she couldn't do it anymore. That being with me wasn't worth coming in second to hockey.
After that, I'd vowed not to get seriously involved with anyone again, knowing I'd only hurt them when they realized I was more focused on my career. And in the ten years since then, I hadn't. Not really.
So, now I had two choices. I either had to take the risk and go for it or take a step back from everything and keep my focus centered around hockey.
"Well, that's the hard part out of the way," she mused. "And aren't your next few games out of town?" I nodded. Tomorrow I was off to the west coast for a short, two-game road trip. "Then focus on that. Jo knows you play for the Knights, so she won't expect to see you around this week. Take the time to figure out if you can juggle her on top of hockey, and if you think you can, then go for it. Date, have fun, just don't lead her on."
