I laugh. “You’re probably right.” Victoria doesn’t take crap from any man. It’s one of her endearing traits. “Delilah, in case she didn’t mention it...” I clear my throat. “It’s my fault she left. I thought she’d always regret not taking this opportunity. What was I thinking? I’m a...”
Big Bertha swears at me from across the room.
Man, that bird’s got impeccable timing. “I was going to sayidiot,” I finish, before giving the bird a side-eye. “I already know I messed up.”
Delilah studies me for a moment. “She promised to come back to get her things—in case you didn’t know.”
“Did she say when?” I ask, feeling hopeful.
Delilah shrugs. “I don’t know. But she left me a key. And I don’t have any need for it.” She sets her plate down and grabs a key hanging on a plastic hook. “Why don’t you take this?”
She drops it in my hand. All I can do is stare at it like it’s Willy Wonka’s golden ticket. Not that it will bring her back, but it’s...something.
“Just in case,” she says with an encouraging smile.
At least somebody’s on my side. I can’t say as much for Big Bertha.
“Thank you,” I say, rolling the key in my hand.
“Of course, honey. By the way, I heard about Tina. If there’s anything I can do to help, I’d be happy to.”
“Really?” I ask, my eyebrows lifting. Maybe she could help Tina, so I wouldn’t have to take a leave of absence. I want to be on the ice more than anything, but I feel conflicted about leaving Tina alone so much.
“Wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t mean it,” Delilah says. “Besides, I don’t have anything to do now that Victoria’s gone.”
“Well, Tina could use some company. She’s slowly getting better, but it’s not good for her to be by herself all the time. I asked for a leave of absence, but I don’t know how long Coach will let meoff.”
“Consider it done,” she says without a second thought, taking my empty plate. “No way I’m letting the Crushers lose because you’re not playing.”
“You’re a Crushers fan?” I ask incredulously. The woman who looks like aGolden Girland spoils her bird?
She leans toward me and lowers her voice. “I even submitted my secret crush to the Crushin’ on the Crushers fan site.” Then she gives me a wink. “Can’t tell you who the lucky guy is.”
So the social media plan is working... which reminds me, I still haven’t asked Victoria about whether that secret note about me was from her.
“I’m also giving you the rest of the brownies,” Delilah says, hurrying back to the kitchen to wrap up the remaining treats. “Pass a few along to Tina, would you?”
I stop in the door. “Why would you do this for me?”
She smiles, like the answer is obvious. “That’s what neighbors do. If you’re special to Victoria, then you’re special to me. That girl helped me more times than I can count.”
“She did?” No wonder Victoria felt like she couldn’t leave Delilah. They were friends in that magical way that can’t be explained when two people hit it off.
“She’d help with things around the house,” Delilah says as she wraps up the brownies in so many layers of plastic wrap, I’m going to need an exacto knife to cut through. “And sometimes she just showed up because she thought I was lonely. But really, I suspect she was the one who needed company. Well, beforeyoushowed up.” Delilah shoves the brownies into my hands before leaving. “I’d love it if you could stop by again sometime. Keep me and Big Bertha company?”
“Sure,” I promise.Victoria would want me to.
As I head out into the hallway, I suddenly stop. Instead of going downstairs, I turn around and walk toward Victoria’s apartment, driven by some instinct, like my feet can only go in one direction—toward her.
I take the golden key and open the door to her apartment. Instantly her scent washes over me, the smell of sweet strawberries, kisses on the beach, and dancing on the ice.
My eyes land on the black jacket she wore for our Pro Ice Gear commercial hanging from the back of a chair, and I’m nearly floored by the memory of that kiss on the couch during the pretend proposal. Or in my case, the proposal I wanted so badly, I didn’t even have to act. No wonder I’ve watched it a hundred times since Desmond sent the rough cut to me.
Next to the jacket sits a paper with tally marks on it. Dozens and dozens of lines fill the page. I pick it up, and then I see my name at the top. Below that, the scribbled words of a note I recognize—the same one anonymously left on the fan site.
Leo, you’ve always been the one who could make me feel special, even when I didn’t believe it myself.
And that’s when I know what I need to do.
