Ryan’s brow perks. “What do you mean?”
“This place is fucking clean as hell. You were never this clean.”
He laughs. “Sofia is a neat freak.”
Even so, the house is immaculate. It doesn’t even look like the stone-gray couches have been sat on. The barstools around the island in the kitchen don’t appear to have ever been pulled out, and I’m pretty sure no one cooks in here. I glance back at Ryan as he grabs two beers out of the fridge. Which, by the way, is so white, it hurts my eyes.
“For real, did you rent this house to impress me?”
Ryan lets out a booming laugh as he hands me a beer. “Fuck you. It’s mine. I can show you the mortgage papers.”
I raise a brow. “I might need that. This place is insane.”
He scoffs. “Come on.”
I follow him through a hall that is a gallery of pictures. Lots of his family, some of Sofia and her mom, and then pictures of both of them in the sports they love. At the end of the hall is a huge photo on canvas of Ryan proposing to Sofia in front of the vault in her new gym. I thought it was kind of weird, but apparently, that’s where he fell in love with her. I guess if it were me, I’d be proposing on the side of the road as James Arthur sings that song Amelia likes. I wait for the fear to settle in my chest or the nervous itch behind my ear, but it doesn’t come. When Lana talked me into marrying her, I got the itch. I should have known, but I ignored it. Shit, I’m in way too deep, but I see no problem with that.
We climb some stairs, and I follow him into what I assume is his man cave.
“So you do live here,” I tease as I look around the room that holds everything hockey, along with some clothes on the floor. There are beer cans on the table, and it’s exactly how I remember Ryan being back in college. The walls are covered in wood planks that go up on the ceiling. The floor is carpeted, and I like the look of it. On the walls are photos of Ryan with the Nashville Assassins, the NHL team where he works as a team trainer, and then some of the Bellevue Bullies. I step closer to the one that was my last year. We were sitting right next to each other, both of us grinning, excited for the future. “Man, I had a huge zit on my nose.”
Ryan snorts. “Remember you wanted to put makeup on it?”
I look back at him, wide-eyed. “I should have!”
My face breaks into a grin as I laugh loudly with him. He falls back into a big leather chair as I sit on the leather sofa. “Man, this is nice.”
“Yeah, Sofia doesn’t clean this room.”
I scoff. “Good. Looks lived-in.”
He laughs. “I love it. How was the trip in?”
“Good. We got in about two hours ago, and when you said you weren’t busy, I figured I’d head over.” I gesture back toward the door. “Where is Sofia?”
“The gym,” he says with a smile. “Always at the gym. That girl blows me away. My dad always said ‘A working woman is a dangerous woman. She works hard, and she loves harder. When you get her, you won’t let her go.’” A pained look fills his face. I know he was really close with his dad before the cancer took him. It hurts me to see how much he misses his dad. Almost as much as it hurts when I see the pain on Amelia’s face. The difference between Ryan and Amelia? I want to kiss away the pain for Amelia. Ryan might be offended if I tried to kiss him.
Not that I would. Just saying.
Jesus, why am I nervous?
“Your dad should have been a motivational speaker.”
Ryan laughs. “He would have been awesome.”
“Yeah,” I agree before taking a pull of my beer. “So, things are good?”
“Things are great. Work is awesome. Sofia is everything, and I’m happy.”
“That’s all that matters. Don’t miss the ice?”
He shakes his head. “Actually, no. I love being behind the bench and helping the guys achieve their goals.”
“That’s awesome, dude.” I was always worried he would regret not going into the AHL, but he’s one badass trainer.
“Yeah. How’s life? Lana staying away?”
I want to tell him how his sister basically told my ex to go to hell, but I’m hesitant. “Yeah, I changed my number after the last time she begged me for money, and I don’t deal with her.”
“Good. Your plus/minus is amazing right now. I heard them saying they think you’ll take the Norris.”
I scoff, rolling my eyes. “Please, I’m on no one’s radar.”
Ryan gives me a serious look. “You always think that, but I’m telling you, you’re on someone’s radar.”